“It’s all good, Prez. Shit happens.”
“Story of our fucking lives,” he says, stomping outside in the muck the rain left behind.
Before we leave, I lay my hand on Mary’s shoulders and notice she is looking away from me again. Her lip is trembling, and she keeps wiping the tears that fall on her cheeks. I want to fix this. I don’t want her to cry again. It… it makes me feel things I haven’t felt in a very long time. I doubt this will be the last time too.
I bet every day I’ll wake up and experience an emotion that has been in hibernation for twenty years. She’s awakening me from a coma, and I nearly don’t recognize the world I’m seeing or myself, but I like it.
That’s new to me too. Liking something. I’ve been so focused on rage and harm, so lost in violence, that I’ve forgotten how to be.
“You okay?”
“I don’t know,” she answers honestly. “It’s not a good thing if my dad is here, Knives. He isn’t here to talk about God.”
“I know.” I wrap my arms around her and pull her close, kissing her forehead as if I do it every day. The other day, I wanted to tape her mouth shut, and now the thought of silence brings pressure to my chest.
But if Preacher Man wants to talk about God, I’ll make sure that before he leaves Vegas, he gets a one on one meeting with the man upstairs.
No one is going to take what’s mine.
And if they do, it’s nothing a ninja star to the throat can’t fix.
“Tell me everything, start to finish. I don’t want you to leave anything out. Mary, sit down, please.”
My ass hits the seat so hard, I slide backward. I would have hit the wall if Knives’ arm didn’t stop me. Reaper makes me nervous. He always has. He can be the reason why I stay or go. He holds the power.
Power can be a scary thing when it is in the wrong hands.
“You’re okay, Mary. No one is in trouble. I need details before we go downstairs.”
“Down…”
“Don’t worry; you don’t have to go and see what is about to be done—”
“—I know that Knives, but I can handle it,” I snap.
“I didn’t say you couldn’t,” he defends himself, digging his fingers into the table.
“I’m sorry. I’m stressed out. I shouldn’t take it out on you. I don’t want us to fight.” I find his hand and grab onto it.
“Aw, you two kissed and made up. I knew that would happen after what happened at Christmas. Bullseye and Tank owe me fifty bucks.”
“You’ve been betting on us?” Knives pulls out a ninja star and slams it into the table. I think he is about to throw one at Reaper he is so mad. “No one could have told me what was happening between us? I figured she was just a pain in my ass—”
“—Hey,” I say, pretending to take offense. He’s right. And for all I know, he is still going to be a pain in my ass.
“You know I’m right,” he says, tugging the star from the table.
“We figured you two would figure it out. Glad you did, I’m a hundred bucks richer.” Reaper leans back in his chair and lays his hands on the armrest. “Catch me up. What the fuck happened?”
“Well…” Knives starts. “I went to go pick up Hellraiser here from lock up—”
“—After you left me there for two days!”
“Anyway,” he drawls. “We were on our way back when I tried to teach her a lesson about speeding…”
“Nearly killing me.”
“Did you die?” he grins.
“Might as well have,” I huff, crossing my arms.
“I pulled over, and we fought…”
“You yelled at me, and then you flung a ninja star at me.”
“Semantics,” he says.
“Semantics!” I nearly come out of the chair I’m sitting in and strangle him.
“She wasn’t listening.”
“Oh, you want to talk about listening. He hit the gas tank to the bike with the star, trying to prove a point, and guess what? A man tossed a cigarette out the window.”
“And you wouldn’t move,” Knives drones, slamming his head against the table.
“Yeah, keep doing that. Maybe it will knock some sense into your head.”
“Like how you would have been knocked on your ass if I wouldn’t have gotten you away from the explosion,” Knives counters. “You were kicking fucking rocks.”
“Pretending they were your head at the time.”
Knives growls at me, and if it were possible, I know steam would be rising from his body with how angry he is getting. He flips the star over his knuckles, something he does when he has something on his mind.
“And the tornado happened,” he grits out. “We had to hightail it out of there. I carried her because her shoes were on fire. We found the barn. Maximo came into the barn a while later, early morning, I guess. We were waiting out the storm, and that’s when her dad came in.”
Reaper is rubbing his temples and taking deep breaths. “You two are going to give me an aneurysm with your bickering. So much damn bickering.”
“Sorry,” Knives says at the same time I do. “I guess there are a few things that won’t change.”
The words cut deeper than they are supposed to. I set my jaw, reminding myself that this is why I didn’t take it further with him in the barn. “My dad came in next and shot Maximo. I didn’t hear much. Something about a woman named Natalia. My dad was looking for me.”
“Do you want to go back with him—”
“No!” Knives throws both of the stars against the wall, then slams his fist on the table. “She cannot go back with him.”
“That isn’t up to you, Knives.”
“The hell it isn’t,” he sneers at his Prez, and then realizes his mistake when Reaper stands tall.
“Watch yourself. You don’t control her. Sit your fucking ass down before I tie you up next to Maximo.”
Knives lowers himself into the chair, then grabs mine and rolls it closer to him. His hand falls on my knee, his fingers playing with the frayed hole in my jeans. “Sorry, Prez. She can’t go back.”
“He’s right, Reaper. Please, the last thing I ever want to do is go back home. My dad isn’t who he says he is, and I think Maximo knows more.”
“Why don’t you want to go home?”
“Prez—”
Reaper lifts his hand in the air, silencing Knives on the spot. “I won’t ask again.”
“Um…” the table blurs as I stare at it, and I realize I’m on the verge of tears. I don’t want to say this again. Knives’ hand finds mine, and he locks us together by intertwining our fingers.
His hold on me grounds me.
“He molested her for twelve years, Prez. He isn’t a man of God,” Knives speaks for me, and I’m relieved just as much as I am disappointed that I couldn’t find the strength to say it to a man that wants to help. When I talk to Knives, it’s easy.
Anyone else, I want my secrets to stay my own.
“Is that right?”
I can see Reaper’s fingers folding around the gavel and the bone creaks.