He laughs at what must be an expression of abject horror on my face. Days?
He gives me another hard slap on the back. “Or it could be hours, who knows? So relax, get some food. You did good.”
Pride at being praised by the vice president is warring with regret that I can’t leave to be with Brenda right away, neither winning. So I have absolutely no time for whatever annoying thing Blaze wants to accuse me of, going from his blazing eyes fixed on me. I turn and follow Tank into the bunker. A couple of hours of sleep sounds about right just now. And who knows, maybe I’ll dream of Brenda. Or better yet, be able to go see her as soon as I wake up.
22
Colt
At sunset, I’m crouching by the wall of the bunker, smoking, watching the sky erupting in an angry orange so much like fire it’s hard to tell the difference. The heat certainly adds to the illusion. As does my impatience. I’ve called Brenda three times since waking up a couple of hours ago, even left a message for her to call me back with the receptionist lady who answered the phone each time, but so far, my phone has stayed silent.
I don’t know what to make of that and I don’t want to think too hard about it, but it’s hard focusing on anything else. What if she did leave like she said she would? What if this was my last test, and I failed it because I didn’t come to see her sooner?
Useless fucking questions, but they’re crowding my mind and not letting anything else in. Maybe it’s for the best that she left. It would’ve soured, like every other relationship had, then fade into forgetting. I don’t want that with Brenda, so maybe it’s best if we call it quits while we’re at the top. The memories will be so much better that way. If only there was any hope that I’ll ever not want to keep making new memories with her. There’s very little hope of that.
I heard boots crunching against the gravel and stone, growing louder. I bet it’s Blaze come to offer advice I don’t need, so I don’t even look.
“They’re singing like canaries in there,” Ace says, startling me. I stand up too fast, then spend the next few moments thinking I’ll pass out. “I bet we’ll be out of here by tomorrow.”
“That’s nice,” I say, trying hard to ignore the blackness closing in from the sides of my vision.
“Then I was thinking we could all ride up to Vegas together, you and Brenda, and Blaze if he wants to,” Ace says. “I bet Brenda wants to finally go home, and I know Stormi is dying to see her.”
“By tomorrow night? She’d be ecstatic about it, actually,” I say.
“It’s a guess, it could take a couple more days, but to be honest, I doubt it,” Ace says. “Cross is as eager to get us out of here as the rest of us are.”
“What’s his plan for the Sinners?” I ask.
Ace shrugs. “Who knows? But he’ll tell us when he’s good and ready, just like always.”
I nod and we smoke for a while, talking about this and that and nothing of importance.
After Ace leaves to go back inside, I call Brenda again and again and get no reply at all. At least they’re putting the calls through to her room, meaning she’s still there. Just not answering my calls. Punishing me? But by the time the moon’s high in the sky and it’s past midnight, I’m almost ready to ride out and see what the fuck is happening. I want her so bad my whole body is tense to the point of pain, and nothing but her soft touch and wicked good kisses will make it better.
It’s a good thing I have Blaze to talk me out of it. Or is that because I’ve grown up some in how I view responsibility and duty these last couple of days? Either way, I spend the night tossing and turning and willing my phone to ring like a goddamn teenage girl.
It’s very early in the morning and I’m very groggy as I make my way to the conference room where me and Blaze have been summoned by a very bleary-eyed Eagle.
“How’s Mac doing?” Blaze asks him as we walk.
Eagle shrugs. “Pretty good. He was lucky that the knife didn’t do any permanent damage, but he should’ve been more fucking careful. Doc stitched him up, and he’s sleeping it off now.”
He’s clearly back to his cocky, arrogant self, so I personally have no more need to talk to him.
Cross, Tank, Ice, and Ink are already in the conference room, and Ace and Rook arrive just as we do.
“Close the door,” Cross tells me since I’m closest to it.
“All right, so the prisoners all told pretty much the same story, and I have no reason to doubt what they’re saying,” Cross says. “Snake’s been against Griff talking to the feds, as have most of the still-living members. He’s also always wanted to lead the MC, a tale corroborated by the other three. None of them knew why the cops were moving against them the first night we attacked, but Snake speculates it was because Griff had gone silent on them. It would make sense.”
Ice and Ace are nodding along, but Tank doesn’t seem entirely convinced.
“What do you propose we do with them?” he asks as Cross pauses. “Do we just believe them and send them in their merry way?”
“More or less,” Cross says. “We’re transporting them back in a couple of hours and giving them until dawn to clear out of town. The Knights will make sure they never come back. If they do, we kill them all. That should keep your uncle happy, right, Ink?”
Ink shrugs. “My uncle’s never happy. But yeah, with Griff and his sons gone, I doubt he’s gonna press too hard for the rest of them to be killed.”
“He can do as he likes once we’re gone,” Cross says. “We’re gonna make sure the town is empty and they’re well on their way to wherever they want to go and then we’re done with this job. Are you satisfied with that, Tank?”
Tank shrugs. “I trust your judgment. You haven’t led us wrong yet.”
It’s impossible to tell if Tank’s being sincere or sarcastic, and I personally think it’s a little of both.
“Colt and Blaze, I want you in the hills overseeing the leaving,” Cross says. “Ace and Eagle, you too. Best leave now before too many of them wake up.”
We file out into the pitch darkness outside, dawn not even a hint yet. I could’ve sworn it was later, but this is better. The sooner this is done, the sooner I get to find out why Brenda’s not calling me back. That question echoing in my mind is colder than the night we ride through to tie up this job that’s given me everything but is now threatening to take it all away too.
Brenda
I swim up from the darkness, from muddy, murky waters so thick my lungs will explode if I don’t get a breath of fresh air soon. But the only thing that explodes is white-hot pain as I open my eyes and light pierces my head like two very sharp and hot knives. Long, too.
I now distinctly remember at least three such attempts to open my eyes and breathe. Each time I closed them again and sunk back to the murky, suffocating waters. This time I have a little more awareness. I keep my eyes, but I don’t drown again. I can hear the moaning of someone in a lot of pain, and a good few moments pass before I connect the sound with my own mouth, or more like chest because that’s where it’s coming from.