Chapter 2

After breakfast, Pierce drove me to the auto shop before heading to work.

Watching Pierce's car disappear around the corner, I immediately turned and headed straight for the nightclub.

Last night, someone had been dealing drugs in my establishment. Ajax, one of my enforcers, caught them and locked them on the top floor, waiting for me all night.

I interrogated them for an hour and extracted a name from those two punks—Quincy Steele, the son of the current Crimson Brotherhood leader, Quinn Steele.

Staying away from drugs was a rule passed down through the Crimson Brotherhood. After Quinn took over, he got greedy for drug profits and broke that rule. He once tried to drag me into it, but I refused. I stuck my knife right in front of Quinn: "Anything can come into the West District except drugs. If Mr. Steele wants to sell, I can't stop you. But if you try to sell in my territory, better come with your neck washed clean."

The Steele father and son clearly didn't take my words seriously.

After crippling both hands of those two drug-dealing scumbags, I wiped the blood off my hands and headed downstairs, instructing Ajax: "Find out where Quincy's stash is. Bury him with the drugs."

Ajax hesitated: "Felix, are we really going up against the boss?"

"Someone's already dancing on my forehead and you want me to pretend I don't see it? Today Quincy can deal drugs in my place, tomorrow Quinn can stuff drugs down my throat. They sell drugs in my territory and pocket the cash—what am I, a saint?"

Turning the corner, I caught sight of Pierce at the bar.

He walked toward me. I instantly fell silent, my mind going blank, my heart nearly jumping out of my chest.

I'd been playing the part of an honest, law-abiding mechanic in front of Pierce for six years.

I never dared bring even a trace of blood home.

First, I didn't want Pierce to know too much.

Life in this world is unpredictable.

My life is cheap. If I die, I die.

Pierce is different. Pierce is precious.

Second, I made a vow to Pierce eight years ago. No knives, no fighting, no crime. I'd be a good, honest person and let him take care of me for the rest of my life.

I'd lied to Pierce. I was afraid he wouldn't stay with me forever.

After Pierce got married, Faye almost never came home.

Faye didn't care about me, and she didn't care about Pierce either.

I dropped out of school at sixteen.

At seventeen, Pierce took me in. He visited every high school in the city, compared them all, had drinks with people, and got me into a school with excellent teachers and a good atmosphere.

The day it all worked out, Pierce got drunk and collapsed by the sofa, hugging me and rubbing my head, his chin resting on top of my head, saying: "Our little Felix is going to school now. Don't be afraid. I'll support you. You'll get better and better, better and better."

I opened my mouth but didn't tell him I didn't want to go to school.

I obediently drank my milk, obediently grew taller, obediently went to school.

Then in corners where Pierce couldn't see, I carried long knives and fought gang wars.

Pierce found injuries on my body. Later, he caught me in an alley after a fight, covered in blood.

Under Pierce's scrutinizing gaze, half my body went numb.

As clean as Pierce was in the sunlight, that's how dirty I was in the shadows.

I stiffened my neck and pieced myself together, bristling with defenses.

I said: "You saw? I'm not what you thought. I'm not good at all."

"I didn't want to go to school. You're the one who made me go."

"If you think I'm too much trouble and don't want me anymore, I'll leave."

Pierce moved. He walked over, crouched down, and used the sleeve of his white shirt to wipe the blood off my face.

"If you don't want to go to school, don't go. Even if you amount to nothing, I can still afford to keep you."

"I won't abandon you. When I took you in, I was prepared to take care of you for the rest of your life."

He held my hand, gentle but firm, and took away my knife.

"But Felix, I need you to promise me—no more knives, no more fighting, no more getting hurt, no more risking your life. Be good and let me take care of you, honestly and properly."

I made the promise, and Pierce believed me.

He was almost stupidly righteous.

Pierce and I are different. The worst thing that's probably ever happened to him in his whole life was getting cheated on by my sister.

But by the time I was fifteen, I'd already experienced all the suffering life had to offer.

I clawed my way out of the mud, stained black through and through. No amount of washing could make me clean. Not even promises could change that.

Sometimes I think, if Pierce had taken me in two years earlier, maybe I really could have been a good kid.

Like he wanted. Go to school properly, get better and better.

But that wasn't possible. From the moment I picked up that steel pipe and crippled my father at sixteen, from the moment I joined the Crimson Brotherhood under Quinn, my world changed.

In Harbor City, once you pick up a knife and join a gang, you can only climb higher.

Either become the boss or die. There's no leaving halfway.