The problems of the few
It was late on a Thursday evening, and Bro was just coming back from one of his less savory calls. Hal was pissed at him for leaving again. And even Dave was starting to get suspicious of why he was running off at every hour of the day and night.
Somehow even Jake had found out.
Bro sighed. There were things that were good in his life. His relationship with Hal. His relationship with Jake. Having his little brother Dave back just might be the best thing of all.
But this? This was definitely not good. It was only a matter of time before the gangs that owned him started using the people he loved against him. He knew what would happen if he ever disobeyed them. If he ever dared not to answer their calls or do the dirty deeds they asked of him.
They would kidnap Hal, Jake, or Dave, if he didn't do what they wanted him to do. They would beat them, torture them. They might kill them.
These heavy dark thoughts weighed on his mind as he drove through the stormy night. He was so absorbed in them that he almost missed the lone figure standing out in the pouring rain.
Who the hell would do something like that? Even he had the common sense not to stand around and catch a cold in the freezing rain. But as he approached the figured, he gasped and slammed on his brakes.
He knew this person. Throwing open the car door, he cursed at the terrible weather and ran up to the guy, taking him by the shoulders.
"Jake! What the ever loving fuck are you doing out here?"