The Biker's Rules
Ilkay says, practically falling off the bus and into the house, “tell us about Harry.”
“He’s around Uncle John’s age,” I begin between bites, “and he’s got scars. Like —everywhere.” I keep talking, ketchup on my fingers, telling them about the revenge thing, about Mom, about how he didn’t kill our grandfather, about the son who’s inconveniently in love with me … and the violated daughter who’s very much not in love with Enrique.
“That sucks, bro,” Jackson whips, “You’re losing your touch, and I get stabbed.”