Page 146 of Silent Damage

Jason flips his visor up, showing me his puzzled look. “At the trailer.”

“Jason…Doug will know that you’re with the HellCats if you roll up in a motorcycle.”

“I won’t confirm anything,” Jason says.

“You won’t have to! Where the hell would you get the money for a motorcycle that costs thousands of dollars if you don’t work for the HellCats? What job would give you that kind of cash that quickly?”

His eyes look down as he considers this. “Why should I have to hide who I am?” he asks.

“I’m not saying you should do that, but maybe don’t park this thing at the trailer park.”

Jason starts the bike, a look of determination on his face. “If he wants to start shit with me, he can go ahead.”

Jesus Christ.

Jason drives, making a right onto the gravel road that weaves through the trailer park.

Everyone watches us as we stop in front of the trailer. We hop off the bike, and I hear the screech of Doug’s front door.

He waddles out with a mean expression etched into his features.

My mom follows him onto the porch, and her jaw drops.

Jason sees all of it but refuses to acknowledge Doug’s gawking. Instead, he rolls the bike to the back of the trailer and begins chaining it to the tree. I follow, preparing myself for what might come.

A moment later, Doug stomps into the backyard and yells, “Where the hell did that come from?”

Jason looks at him for a couple of beats. “A fuckin’ bike shop. Where do you think?”

Mom rushes in next, wrapping her arm around Doug’s, but he pulls away from her and marches to Jason. “And how the hell did you afford that?”

“With money I made from my job,” Jason answers without hesitation.

“And what job is that?” Doug asks, his veins bulging in his neck.

“None of your business,” Jason says, his fists clenching at his sides.

Mom hurries between them. “Boys. Let’s not do this.”

Jason huffs a laugh and says, “How many times is your wife going to have to protect you from getting your ass kicked, old man?”

I step in next, pushing myself in front of Jason, but he says, “Gabe. This is going to happen, and I won’t let you get hurt. Stand over there.”

He moves me to the side, but Mom won’t budge. “Doug, come back home, now.”

“I know what you’re doing,” Doug spits at Jason. “You think you’re smart, don’t you?”

“I’ve had enough of your shit, is what I think.”

Jason’s words turn Doug’s face crimson, and he maneuvers away from Mom and swings, but Jason ducks and punches Doug in the gut.

Doug falls over, holding his stomach and heaving.

Jason stands over him—his face red and his body shaking. I can see it happening: the years of pain Doug inflicted on him have bubbled to the surface, and he’s about to unleash hell.

I try to step forward to stop it, but I’m too slow. Jason kicks Doug in the gut. He does it again. And again.

“How’s it feel?” Jason screams. “How’s it feel?”