Stereo Blast Volume 1 [MxM]

Chapter 2.3

Anything before the Rising had either been destroyed or confiscated by the government. But what was in the box proved that some things had slipped through the federal’s hands.

It wasn’t much, a small bottle of cologne wasn’t much to anybody in the district. Value was all in the hands of foods and fuel, things that could help you stay alive in this desolate environment.

Ryan pulled the bottle from the box and read the label. It was faded, but he could read some of the words.

Woodspice and manly stood out from the list of words.

He grinned sheepishly at Logan.

“Thanks,” he said, happier than he thought he could be. The smallest of things were sometimes the best anyone could give. He was lucky he had Logan. He was lucky he had anyone that would think of giving him something.

Logan slurped down the last of her drink, giving just the smallest of smiles. He knew she wasn’t big about showing emotion, so much like Taylor, it kinda terrified him. As he placed the bottle back in the box, he had to talk himself down. Logan wouldn’t end up like Taylor even if he believed she might. Logan and Taylor were two very different people. They came from different backgrounds and had their own ideas about life.

Even as he started to believe in his own words, there was a dreadful feeling inside him.

He looked down at his plate, feeling more worried than he should be. Logan wasn’t his responsibility. She wasn’t his kid.

Kids in Mason would become the future killers, gangsters, and prostitutes of the districts. Instead of a child, there were only the beginnings of a corrupt adult hiding under their skin.

As much as he wanted to think otherwise, the cycle never ever broke. It only continued as it had started.

***

Ryan slipped into Taylor’s apartment with his hands buried in the pockets of his jean jacket. He glanced around the dark empty room and sighed as he realized he’d come too late. The secret entryway he’d slipped in through had been left open, meaning Taylor had expected him to come, and when he didn’t show he’d left without even a note. Which meant he was probably pissed.

Don’t blame me.

Logan hadn’t left until dusk had settled. He would have kicked her out if he thought he would see her again, but after seeing how bruised her arms really were and the f*****g finger imprints left on her neck, he knew it wouldn’t happen. It was a good thing Taylor hadn’t been around when she’d showed up. Taylor hated the brat, but he hated abusers more.

Ryan flipped the shades up and peeked out. A group of four were huddled around a burning fire in a metal trashcan. They weren’t Wolves and Taylor wasn’t amongst the group.

That meant either he was walking around or he was heading towards the border.

Fuck.

Ryan closed the shades, running his hand over his face. He searched the room with a quick glance, looking for a sign, anything that would tell him what he should do. The room held nothing for him.

Instead of waiting any longer, he slipped out and onto the street. He’d thought about it since this morning since he’d let Taylor find out about Cleo.

This was why he never let Taylor in on anything. He would murder Logan’s parents and leave the kid an orphan on the streets if he found out what they were doing to her. And once he found out about Cleo messing with Ryan, he’d set his mind on killing the fucker.

The cold air cut through his jacket. He shivered.

It was going to happen sooner or later. Nothing slipped by Taylor for long.

He left the main road and walked as fast as he could down the backroads of the district. The pink and blue lights blurred out around him, becoming a mass of color in the corners of his eyes. He didn’t realize he was crying until he’d hit the outskirts of Kitro. The tears dripped down his chin and he wiped them with a rough hand.

There was always a possibility Taylor wouldn’t win a fight. There was always the fear Ryan would find a body instead of his best friend.

Though it was the fear that plagued him for most of his days, Ryan pushed it to the back of his mind as he set out for the one place he knew Cleo would likely be. He was a man of habit and while he was smart enough to know he shouldn’t pick fights with groups of Wolves, he wasn’t smart enough to go against his own ego. He was strong and no one could think him. That’s what he thought. It was this thinking that would get Cleo killed someday and that day, Ryan hoped, would be today.

Hate for the Eastcliffs might have not been understood by Ryan when he was younger, why the Wolves and the Eastcliffs always fought—those were things that were there because they were. There was never an explanation, not that his parents would ever tell him. His mom was an addict like half the human population and his dad never came home most days, too busy f*****g the little girl next door.

Right. His parents were as f****d up as the next family. Somehow he knew that but couldn’t understand why there was a gang war happening right outside his window.

Things changed after his parents died and he had to start fending for himself. He saw what the Wolves did, what they could do, and what the Eastcliffs were willing to do to save their own hide. Unlike his own people, the Wolves killed those that hit first—most of the time. The lower ranking Wolves didn’t give a rats ass about having a heart. It’s how Ryan ended up here on other side and not dead in a ditch in Nitro.

A pack of Wolves had beaten him and for some reason, Taylor had defended him.

It shouldn’t be something he should still be hung up over. That happened almost a decade ago.

But the memory is still fresh. He can remember the pain, hear Taylor’s voice, and his soft hands helping him sit up. The other Wolves had darted like the cowards they were once they saw who was coming their way. Even at ten years old, Taylor had already built a large reputation. He’d become an alpha alongside his dad.

It all began two days after the fires started. The Eastcliffs had crossed the border into Kitro and started a brawl with the Wolves over a shipment coming from Silic. It was the Wolves merchandise and the Eastcliffs had wanted it for themselves. Looking back on it now, after Taylor had told him the full story, he thought it was pathetic, almost disappointing to think all those innocent lives taken were over something so petty. Drugs. The Eastcliffs had wanted drugs so they thought it was a good idea to start a fire in their own city.

It somewhat worked. To an extent. The fire had cut off the Wolves from following the Eastcliffs into Nitro after they’d taken more than half the shipment. The Wolves were left with scraps of their inventory and a blazing fire that cut them off from making any attempt at getting their property back. The loss also alerted the feds, causing a big storm to cover up the entire operation while trying to keep the gang from going ballistic.

When he brought it up to Tike, he was met with a shrug, an almost indifference to the situation though it was the sole reason he’d become the transportee.

“From what I’d heard, the man in the shipment wasn’t too keen in Mr. Schiffor’s views,” Tike said as he lowered a box of needles onto the floor. Ryan stood behind him, his arms crossed and his eyes lost on Tike’s movements, watching him, but not taking it what he was doing. “He stole drugs, liquor, needles, anything he could get his hands on without being caught. And he had the balls to go behind Schiffor’s back! He was working with the Eastcliffs thinking he could get a piece of the s**t without getting f****d over.”

Tike shook his head with a laugh. “He was a f*****g i***t. By the time the Wolves tracked him down, he was beaten and died with a gunshot to the head. He honestly thought the Eastcliffs were gonna let him slide by in their district.”