Chapter Eight

Banks

“Will you settle down? It’s not the Spanish Inquisition,” King groaned as he and Scribe both looked up at me. “It’s nothing. All you have to do is sit there and listen to what the man has planned. Agree, offer some suggestions, and then shake the man’s hand. If I can do it, so can you.”

“Laurel already called Mr. Williams and told him you would be there instead. From what your woman said, the man was rather pleased to hear that Nash’s dad would attend instead,” Scribe said just as the doors to the front office opened and in walked the little shit himself.

Taking one look at me, Nash groaned, “What the fuck are you doing here? Gonna threaten to kick my ass some more.”

“Nash McDonald, you watch that mouth of yours,” a curt woman behind the admissions counter firmly said. “Sit down and wait until Principal Williams calls for you.”

The brat mumbled something under his breath as he plopped his ass down in a seat.

I couldn’t stop staring at him.

He was me. Everything about him was me, right down to his snarky attitude. Looking over at King and Scribe, I saw both men staring in shock as they kept swiveling their heads from me to Nash.

I knew what they were seeing and it wasn’t pretty.

How in the hell did Laurel handle him?

I could barely handle myself most days and now there were two of me.

“Mr. Owens?”

Turning fast, I watched as a balding, skinny man in glasses walked over to me. Extending his hand, he greeted, “I’m Principal Williams. It’s nice to meet you. If you would all follow me. Nash, you too.”

“Not going anywhere with that dickhead.”

Before I could respond, King grabbed the little shit by the back of his shirt and shoved him toward the principal’s office, not giving Nash a choice in the matter. “Say one more fucking thing and see what happens, kid.”

Scribe walked over and shoved me too. “That means you too, Banks.”

Sitting next to Nash in front of the principal’s desk brought back a lot of memories that I had blacked out. None of them were good. Standing behind us were King and Scribe, both men refusing to budge.

“Well.” Mr. Williams smiled warmly. “It’s nice to see you again, King.”

“You too, Alan. How’s the wife and kids?”

“Good. Murriel started UT this semester. I can’t thank you enough for getting Frank to recommend her for their science program. She was thrilled to receive her acceptance letter. Now,” the man said, leaning forward in his chair, looking between me and Nash, “as for you, young man. I’ve come up with some rules that I believe will help you get through this school year, and if your father agrees, I will implement them tomorrow.”

“He’s not my father,” Nash snarked. “He’s just the worthless piece of shit that provided sperm that knocked up my whore of a mother, then abandoned her.”

And just like that, I was out of my chair and had my son up against the wall. “Listen up, fucker. You know nothing about me or your mother. I don’t know what she told you, but I will not allow you to disrespect her in my presence. Got me? I get you are angry. Hell, I’m angry too, but that doesn’t give you the right to talk about shit that you know nothing about. Now, sit your fucking ass down and don’t say another damn word.”

“I hate you!” Nash fumed.

“Feeling’s mutual at the moment. Now sit!” I said angrily, forcefully shoving him back down into his chair.

Taking my seat, I sighed. “Go ahead, Mr. Williams.”

“Mr. Owens, upon further thought, I don’t think my plan will work.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, Nash clearly has no respect for you or his mother. He doesn’t listen to anyone and seems hellbent on doing whatever he wants, with no regard for himself or the surrounding people. Last year, Nash barely passed any of his classes. He skipped more classes than he attended, and I had to suspend him five times for fighting and vandalism. I’m sorry, Mr. Owens, but unless Nash wants to change his behavior, I’m left with no choice but to recommend our online program.”

“But that would mean he would be home all day, unsupervised. Laurel can’t be with him twenty-four seven. The Comic Center opens this weekend. She’s got a new business to run.”

“I know that,” Mr. Williams muttered, then smirked. “Which is why I’m suggesting that you take over. Nash needs something we at Rosewood High School can’t teach him.”

“What’s that?”

“A rough introduction into the real world.” King groaned. “Alan is suggesting that the Sons of Hell take Nash in hand.”

Mr. Williams nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry, King, but I believe it’s the only way. Without your help, Nash will surely be behind bars before he’s eighteen and I know that would hurt his mother deeply. She’s tried everything, and nothing is working. Nash needs some tough love.”

“But that means I can’t be on the football team!” Nash spoke up.

“Yes.” Mr. Williams nodded. “But I will make a deal with you, Nash. If you can get through this year without causing any trouble, and maintain a B+ average, I will consider allowing you to come back for your senior year.”

“This is fucking bullshit!” Nash shouted. “You can’t kick me out. This is a public school. I have the right to attend if I want to. I will sue you and this whole fucking school if you make me leave.”

“Sit down,” Scribe barked menacingly.

Nash gulped and sat back down.

“I will need to talk this over with Laurel first.” I sighed, rubbing my forehead.

“She already knows,” King declared, holding up his phone as he glared at Nash. “She’s been listening the whole time.”

“Nash, I’m sorry, honey.” I clearly heard Laurel whisper through the speaker. The second I heard her voice, I fucking knew she heard what her son called her and that pissed me off even more. Glaring at the fucker, he didn’t even look repentant. He knew his mother heard what he called her and he didn’t fucking care.

Not one bit.

“This fucking blows!” the kid shouted, then quickly shut up when Scribe grabbed his shoulder, causing him to wince.

“What he meant to say, Laurel,” Scribe spoke up, “is that he’s sorry for causing you problems and will try to do his best to make you proud. Isn’t that right, kid?”

When Nash said nothing, I watched Scribe squeeze his shoulder harder. “Yes! I promise!”

King walked over to shake Mr. William’s hand. “You set everything up online, and we will take it from there.”

“Thank you, King.”

The second we left the school, I grabbed Nash by his throat and slammed him up against the brick wall. “You are a selfish, inconsiderate little shit. Your mother heard what you called her. Do you even fucking care? That woman has busted her ass since the day you were born to give you everything she could, and you call her a whore. You got a problem with me, then be man enough to talk to me, but if I ever hear you call your mother a whore again, I will beat your ass fucking black and blue. Got me, Nash?”

“Banks, not here,” King cautioned, pulling me off him. “Wait till we get him to the clubhouse.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Nash gasped, rubbing his throat.

“That’s what you think.” King smiled as I turned around and there they were. All my brothers, sitting on their bikes, watching the show.

It was around dinnertime when I saw Laurel walking over to me.

The second we got Nash to the clubhouse, the little shit showed us his true temper when he took a swing at King, who didn’t think before laying the brat flat on his ass.

Now sporting a broken nose with two black eyes, Nash hadn’t said shit to anyone for the last few hours because he could barely breathe as King, Frank and Scribe were running him through the paces of the obstacle course.

Meant for calisthenics, the obstacle course was more than a place to get our exercise on. It was also a great place for punishment.

I should know. King had my ass on the course many times.

King firmly believed that exercise cleared the mind and was a great outlet to get to the root of any problem. However, the only problem I saw was a stubborn kid who refused to give up.

“Hey, baby,” I said, pulling her down into my lap. “How did the shipment go?”

“Good. Cameron is a very organized young man. He, Benny and Kai had everything catalogued in no time. Tomorrow, they are gonna help me set up the displays.”

“Where are they now?”

“Inside with Sugar. Kai is helping Cameron and Benny with some chores. How long has Nash been doing that?” she asked, looking while her son laid on the ground doing sit-ups.

“For about thirty minutes now.”

“Do I want to know why he has a busted nose and two black eyes?”

“Nope,” I said when King blew his whistle.

Nash stumbled to his feet and trudged over to the pull-up bar.

“One hundred, Nash,” King ordered. “I don’t have all night.”

Saying nothing, Nash jumped, grabbed the bar, and started doing pull-ups.

Walking over to us, King sat down next to me and sighed. “He’s gonna be hard to break.”

“You broke me.”

“Yeah, but you wanted to break. Nash doesn’t. Something is bothering that kid, and until he talks, he’s going to push all our buttons.”

“I don’t understand,” Laurel said, looking at her son.

“Kids like Nash lash out for several reasons, but my gut’s telling me Nash is holding something in. Something he doesn’t want anyone to know about, but whatever it is, he’s having a hard time dealing with it. I called Mike, and he said the problem with Nash started right after you moved here last year.”

“That’s right,” Laurel agreed. “He wasn’t happy about the move, but he dealt with it. I thought when the coach allowed him on the football team, everything would get better, but it only got worse.”

I frowned. “Babe, being on a football team should have given him the structure and regiment he needed, not make shit worse. How was he with school?”

“Nash was always a straight-A student. But after we got settled here, I noticed his grades started to slip. I tried to help him, but he didn’t want my help. Then he started skipping school and hanging out with the wrong crowd. At first it was stupid stuff, like smoking, drinking, and egging houses. Shit went downhill fast after that. It’s like he just gave up. I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Well, I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”