Ky sat back in his chair and shrugged at Styx when I didn’t reply.
Tanner walked toward me. I met eyes with one of the only brothers who matched my size, and he said, “Got Little Ash set up with new records, social security and all that shit. Your old man never registered his birth. Had no trace. But he belongs to the Lone Star state now, brother. Said he was homeschooled by his mama until she died. Styx told me to get a tutor to get him up to speed with what he’s missed, which by talking to the kid, will take about five fucking minutes. I’ve got him in a good school nearby, when he’s ready. Private. Discrete. Small. Cash exchanged a few hands, not all of it entirely fucking legal, but at least it’s all done. Your little bro’s here to stay, Flame. He’s the baby of the Hangmen now. We got his fucking back. All good?”
My chest squeezed in gratitude, but I couldn’t find the words to fucking reply. The kid had been taught shit. He’d actually been schooled. That was more than I ever had, and I was so fucking happy about that fact.
Tanner flicked his chin at me and sat down. Then it went real fucking quiet. I ripped the label off my beer as I built myself up. Taking a real long deep inhale, I looked up at Asher. I already had his attention. He was still watching me, his eyes looking so fucking much like Isaiah’s and mine that it was surreal.
Someone coughed, causing me to snap the fuck round and flick my head toward the line of trees. “Come with me,” I ordered. Asher’s eyes grew wide.
I didn’t wait for him to get up. Instead I took a swig of my beer and pounded through the circle of club * hanging around and onto the raised verge. From up here you could see right over the forest surrounding the compound and out to the empty acres beyond.
I heard the shuffling of Asher’s boots first, then his deep breathing. Without looking back, I flicked my hand. “Sit down.”
I counted six seconds until he dropped beside me. Not too close, sitting about a foot away. And he didn’t say shit to me, just sat there, head hanging low, eyes to the ground.
I pictured Maddie and me in that fucking church. And I told myself that this kid, my blood, wasn’t going anywhere. That he was here to stay and that I wouldn’t fucking hurt him. I thought it, tried to get it through my head, but it was real fucking hard to believe.
Taking another swig of my Bud, I lowered the bottle and asked, “You doing good?”
Asher tensed, then nodded his head. “Yeah.”
I blinked, trying to think what to say next, when I asked, “AK treating you good?”
Another nod of the head and another, “Yeah.”
I knew this wasn’t going real well. I couldn’t fucking talk to folk. I couldn’t ever fucking say anything right. Asher looked out over the woods, but I looked to my left, watching his face. Fucking seeing me in that face. Seeing the same kid I once was. And like me, Asher had been kept in that cellar… and fuck knows what else.
“I ain’t good at talking,” I abruptly blurted. Asher’s face turned to me, and he swallowed. “I mean, I ain’t good at talking. At all. I don’t read people like others can. I’m not good with people’s emotions or shit, or mine. I… I always fuck up things I wanna say, and people get real pissed, and I end up getting killing mad. It just all goes fucking wrong. All the fucking time."
“I know, Flame.”
I frowned. “You know?”
“Viking and AK have told me that… that you’re different from others. That you talk different to most people.” He swallowed and said, “They’ve told me how to speak to you. So, I get it.”
I glanced back to AK and Viking. Viking was fucking around as always, but AK’s attention was focused our way. I flicked my chin at him, and he raised his beer in return.
Asher began pulling the grass from the ground, and as I took another sip of my beer, I noticed his hair. His dark hair, cut in a…