Deciding to poke me like I’ve poked him, Bronco asks, “Speaking of your mom, does she know you’ve asked Aja for help again?”
“Like you, I try to avoid telling Barbie shit that’ll upset her. Well, unless I can make the news funny. No way to make a joke out of ‘your husband loved him some bunny’s pussy.’”
“Blood is good and all,” Bronco says, clearly only wasting words to get to his point. “However, the Serpent’s Eye guys aren’t the kind of people we need to owe.”
“You don’t owe them. I owe her. She isn’t patched in. She’s a hired gun. They aren’t the only club she works for.”
“Don’t act as if they can’t claim otherwise. I know men like that. I was one. When I started the Executioners, I squeezed everyone. No other way to build fear and alliances.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes at his dramatics. Instead, I ask, “So you think I should go to that Kansas town myself to hand over the phone? Also, if Needy wanted out of her situation, I planned to ask Aja for help. The town is closer to her territory than ours. But if you see a better way, I’m game.”
Bronco exhales hard, frustrated by how problems unrelated to him end up on his lap. “I don’t know. Creating an alliance with the Reapers in Kentucky made sense. They’re expanding, and Lana has a connection to them. But mostly, I felt as if River Majors was someone I could deal with. I don’t know the people running the Serpent’s Eye. Our only connection is Aja and Francesca.”
“How about we don’t plan for shit that isn’t a current problem?”
“I thought you were Mister Plans?” Lowell asks.
“Yeah, and how did all my planning work with the Killing Joes?” I ask, patting my scarred stomach. “Sometimes, you have to go by gut instinct.”
The corner of Bronco’s mouth lifts approvingly. Despite trying to be more of a plotter in his old age, my uncle normally follows his impulses. But we’re both capable of learning the skills that don’t come naturally. That’s why he trusts me to run his club one day.
“The Serpent’s Eye is a rowdy club,” I say, glancing at Anders, who can’t be comfortable in his corner. “But they’re in Missouri. We have Indiana between us. There’s no logical alliance to be made, grudgingly or not.”
“Fair enough, but no more sneaky missions. If you’re asking for help from Aja, it’s a club matter, even if it remains between us four. I know she’s your sister and blood to the club, but your mom will never be okay with her here. Bambi and the others will be just as shitty. Let’s keep that relationship outside of Woodlands, okay?”
“Sure. I’ll let you know when the phone gets handed off to Needy and if Monroe’s mom actually calls.”
Nodding, Bronco gestures toward the door. “You better head out before Anders hurts himself in that corner.”
Relieved to get out of the small room, I hurry to my bike and look around the steady traffic passing by the often-empty ice cream shop. In my pocket is the burner phone linked to the number Needy will get. Despite shit being in motion, I’m nervous to tell Monroe yet.
I don’t know her mom. In my mind, I can imagine Needy living comfortably and wanting to leave her past behind. But I also watched those videos of Needy and Monroe together. I can’t believe the woman in them would abandon her daughter. Of course, people are complicated, and no one really knows what’s in another person’s heart.
I climb on my bike and let it idle. Months ago, I was ready to leave this place. Years earlier, I was obsessed with proving myself. Now, I’m in no rush to do anything except be at Monroe’s side.
MONROE
Conor keeps his secrets and dreams of things that aren’t meant to be. Like how he wants me to move into his mom’s house. Even if I wanted to see Barbie Jessup repeatedly through my day, there is no way in fucking hell on earth does she want to see me. Over the last week, we’ve run into each other a handful of times. She called me “Molly” twice and “Monica” four times. I also caught her calling me a bitch once. In her defense, I did refer to her as various Barbie products.
“Did you like having the apartment to yourself before I moved in?” I ask Amity as she dances around in the kitchen, wearing boxers, knee-high boys’ socks, and a white Buckeyes jersey.
“No, why would I want to be alone?”
“Privacy.”
“Who needs that?” she asks while wrapping her dark hair into a floppy ponytail. “I don’t like the quiet. The past gets really loud when people aren’t around to distract me.”
I think to ask about her childhood, but Amity doesn’t want to get bummed out. She’s been in a good mood since breakfast. Now, she’s positively giddy. Amity is always happier when she gets to work at Rooster’s in the evening.
“Oh, my, god,” Amity says and gasps. “I was thinking about how Bronco got hooked up and then Anders. They were single for years, then wham! Now, not so long afterward, Conor gets hooked up. That’s when I realized you’re the girls from ‘Friends.’”
“Explain, please,” I insist while joining her in the kitchen.
“Lana is the clean-cut good girl like Monica. Pixie is the fun hippie like Phoebe. And you’re Rachel. You even ran away from a wedding.”
“The wedding was months away, and I don’t want to be Rachel. She was a bitch, and Conor’s too hot to be Ross.”
“Conor is like the three guys mashed together. He’s smart like Ross, sexy like Joey, and funny like Chandler. You got the trifecta, baby,” she says, winking at me while lighting a joint. “Still, I’m sorry you’re Rachel.”
“It’s okay. She does have the best hair,” I say, running my fingers through mine. “But who would you be in that scenario?”
“Umm... one of those sidepieces the guys had.”
“How about the hot one that dated Joey, and he stole her food?”
“Sure, as long as I’m not Janice.”
“Oh, no, that’s most definitely Jena.”
We share a laugh while Amity hands over the joint. “I like having you and Conor around,” she says as her mood gets a little funky.
“That’s good because I don’t want to live anywhere else.”
“What about his house?”
“In that scenario, I give you up as a roommate and get Barbie in return. How the fuck is that fair?”
Amity grins, scooting closer. I take her hand, sensing she’s lonely.
“How long do you think you’ll be a bunny?” I ask as she wraps her arm around my shoulders and squeezes.
“Until I get too old and fat. Then, maybe I can waitress. Except it’ll depend on how full the Overlook is by then. If a bunch of bunnies have moved on and there’s space for me here, I bet they’d let me stay.”
“Aren’t you hoping to find a man of your own?”
“No.”
“Is it for the same reason that Jena didn’t find someone?” I ask, thinking about her crush on Bronco.
“No,” Amity says, sighing warily. “Love can make a person vulnerable, allow them to do things they don’t want to do. I’d rather be alone than feel pain.”