Don't Fear The Reaper

Danielle

We sit across from each other on the couch and I stretch my legs in between us. I think about what questions to ask, I think about how much I actually want to know. I realize I need to know everything, even if it scares me.

"Tell me about Danielle." He shifts uncomfortably at the mention of her name. "And Abigail."

He sighs, reaching into his jacket and pulling the gun out. He sets it on the coffee table before removing his jacket, draping it carefully over the chair next to the couch. The gun should scare me, I've never even held one before, but it doesn't. I'm more intrigued than anything. "Let's start with Abigail."

He tells me everything from meeting her to falling in love with her, to falling out of love with her. He speaks fondly of her, saying she was nothing like her father who he describes as cold hearted and mean. No, Abigail was kind and soft, he loved that about her. He tells me how they spent lots of nights drinking and talking before he'd go home late, usually no earlier than 3 AM. The way he talks about it, I can tell they're some of the best memories he has.

He describes the night he was recruited into the Reapers as the most life changing event he's ever experienced, so far. It was a normal night, him and Abigail were getting drunk and talking about god knows what. He tells me how he definitely shouldn't have been driving but he was drunk, young and stupid, he didn't care. He got into his large pickup truck and accidentally backed over Abigail's dad's bike, crushing and mangling it.

"He was pissed. He came running outside, yelling at me." He laughs a little. "I was so drunk I didn't realize the deep shit I was in. I think I said something like 'hey man, it'll be fine!' and that really set him off. He shoved me against my truck, gave me an ultimatum. Work for him or he'd call the cops and I'd be in even deeper shit. It didn't seem like I had much of a choice but I did. I chose the wrong thing, I didn't know what I was getting myself into."

He talks about the drugs, the guns, the violence. It all scared him at first but he didn't know how to get out, he didn't know how to say no so he just went with it. After about six months, it was all normal to him, it was just how things were. He got patched in and there was no turning back. He says it was really weird being a senior in high school and being a full-fledged member of a gang, especially because everyone knew.

"I didn't exactly try to hide it. I wore my jacket to school, I rode my bike to school." He chuckles at himself. "I thought I was a badass."

"You are a badass." I nudge his leg playfully with my foot, smiling.

He continues his story, talking about doing cocaine for the first time and then a second time and then a few more times after that. He didn't ever get addicted, he didn't go off the rails or anything but he enjoyed it occasionally at parties. Cocaine seems to be the lesser of two evils in his mind because when he brings up heroin, his whole expression changes.

"I'd never even thought about doing heroin before we had to run it and someone asked me if I wanted to sample the product. My initial reaction was absolutely fucking not and it stayed that way for a while. But cocaine got boring, my life was a fucking mess, I just didn't really give a shit anymore. I snorted a line, I felt amazing for a short time before I puked my guts out and passed out. Joe, he's the clubs president now, basically a father to me. Well, he found me on the floor in the clubhouse, puke in my hair, just totally fucked up." He scrunches his face like he doesn't like remembering these things. "That's the only time I've seen that man cry. He said he thought I was dead, made me promise to never do it again."

"Did you?"

"No." He shakes his head and looks down at his hands. "I'm gonna be honest with you though." He pauses and looks at me like he's waiting for my approval.