“It’s a shame about your being kicked out of the Order, Daniels,” Shane called. “Losing your home like that, too. I always thought you were capable. I know people who could’ve helped. If you’d just come to me, I could’ve made things easier on you. Life is tough, but at least you wouldn’t have to prostitute yourself to that creature.”
“Dude,” Luther exhaled.
Andrea picked up speed, her eyes furious. I had to get her out of here now. She was barely holding on to the edge of reason as it was. If she pulled her gun on him, she’d go to jail, and not even the Pack lawyers would get her out.
“Being in the Order doesn’t make you untouchable, Shane.” I kept walking.
“Women sell themselves because they’re starving, because they’ve got kids to feed, because they are addicted,” Shane said. “I don’t condone it, but I understand it. You sold yourself for four walls on Jeremiah Street. Was it worth climbing into bed with an animal every night?”
I ran into Andrea. She tried to push past me and I blocked her. “No.”
“Step aside.”
“Not now, not here.”
“Hello, Nash,” Shane called. “You want me to box your guns and send them to your apartment? Save you the shame of coming to the chapter?”
Andrea gripped my arm.
“Later,” I told her. “Too many people now.”
Andrea clenched her teeth.
“Later.”
She turned on her heel and we went back to the Jeep. I slid Hector back into the traffic.
“That bastard,” Andrea squeezed out.
“He’s a loudmouth who likes talking shit. There is no law against being an asshole. Let him hide behind his shield for now. That’s all he can do.”
Andrea squeezed her hand into a hard fist. “If I still had my ID . . .”
“You would be the best of friends.”
She glared at me.
“It’s true,” I told her.
She didn’t answer.
The first ten years of her life, Andrea was the punching bag of her bouda clan. She’d spent the last sixteen making sure she would not feel powerless again. She had never walked the street without the added weight of the Order’s ID. She was used to being a good guy, respected and even admired for what she did and who she was. She was never pushed around by anyone with a badge, because she carried one. But every choice had consequences, and now these consequences were hitting her right in the face.
“We can’t even do anything to that worm,” she ground out.
“Not now.”
She turned to me. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“You can,” I told her. “You’re a survivor.”
“You don’t know what it’s like.”
I laughed. It sounded cold. “You’re right, I have no idea what it’s like to take shit from people I could kill with my eyes closed.”
Andrea exhaled. “Okay. Sorry. That was a stupid thing to say. I just . . . Argh.”
“In the end, Shane doesn’t matter,” I said. “As long as you avoid him and don’t give him an opportunity to hurt you, he’s powerless to do anything except lather up some spit. However, if someone were to do something stupid, like shoot at him from some roof one night, we’d have real problems.”
“I was a knight,” Andrea said. “I’m not just going to start shooting every dickhead who mouths off to me.”
“Just making sure.”
“Besides, if I shot him, I’d do it so nobody could trace it back to me. I’d shoot him somewhere remote, his head would explode like a melon, and they would never find his body. He would just vanish.”
This would be a long climb uphill, I just knew it.