The Chains — Chapter 3 — The Club
Fifteen years old. A biker club takes Helena. Kim calls Jack.
Kim doesn't like telling stories. So Jack tells it with him.
I was about fifteen.
I got home tired. I'd been selling candy on the bus all day and had just said bye to Jack.
Helena was drunk. Nothing new. It's weirder when she isn't.
But the air was different. You could feel it.
There were people in my house. About ten guys from a motorcycle club.
Big. Bearded. The bikes outside were beautiful. The guys, not so much. Mean-looking animal faces, faces of people pissed off about something. Chains hanging off them, leather jackets.
There were two or three women with them.
A group that size inside our house. Now that was new.
A few of them tried to strike up a conversation when I walked by. I kept walking.
Helena pretended she didn't see me.
But when I passed next to her, I felt something bad. It wasn't trust. It was the opposite.
I went upstairs. Changed clothes.
When I came down, the house was empty. The group had left and taken Helena with them.
That got to me.
I texted Jack: come over. now. no questions.
He didn't answer. Just left me on read.
Fifteen minutes later he was at my door.
JACK
Twelve. I came on the bike.