I glanced to the left, to where Shelly had placed several bookshelves. They were overstuffed, and most of the spines were blue, but I didn’t really see them.
What I saw were snapshots of my past. I saw having somebody, the someone I never had to explain shit to, my someone who just knew. He knew it all. And I also saw someone who had needed me, someone I’d cared for and took care of, from birth to now.
“He’s your responsibility,” my momma had said. “I’m counting on you.”
And then I saw the future, and him leaving, and nothing ever being the same.
“This sucks,” I said to Shelly’s blue books.
“It does.” Duane’s reply was rough, his voice like sandpaper. He also cleared his throat, adding in a steadier voice, “So don’t make it harder by being an asshole.”
20
“We do not have to visit a madhouse to find disordered minds; our planet is the mental institution of the universe.”
― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
* * *
*Beau*
Duane and Jess had wisely decided to borrow Billy’s truck. The Wraiths wouldn’t think twice about stopping and harassing any of us except Billy.
A few summers ago, I must’ve been seventeen or eighteen, two recruits had been harassing Billy on one of the back roads. The way Drill told the story, Billy sped up around a switchback until he was out of sight, then turned his wheel, blocking the road.
Not seeing him in time, the recruits plowed right into Billy’s 1985 Chevy Silverado. Billy called an ambulance and both fellas ended up in the hospital, but not before he broke both their noses, threatened to kill them if it happened again, and scared the shit out of them by driving away and leaving them in the middle of the road.
The story Billy told the police was completely different. Unsurprisingly, the police believed my brother.
Drill had a dozen or so stories of a similar nature about Billy. All of them started with some dumbasses at the club thinking they could harass my brother, and ended with those same dumbasses in the hospital. His hatred for the motorcycle club was no secret and no joke.
Billy’s truck was absolutely the right choice for picking me up from Shelly’s and taking me home with them.
But, before we all left, pie.
“So . . . you and Shelly, huh?” Jess’s crooked grin was enormous. I could see why my brother liked it so much.
Duane, Jess, and I were in Shelly’s small kitchen, eating pie. Shelly had just left to check on her dogs. They’d continued to bark, but they’d also started to whine.
I shrugged, trying to appear blasé about it and failing. No doubt my grin gave me away.
“Ahh! That is so exciting.” Jess did a little wiggly dance in her seat, shaking her fists back and forth in front of her.
“I can’t believe how different this place looks. The kitchen is brand new.” Duane, meanwhile, was currently opening and closing cabinet doors. He’d finished his pie before the rest of us. “Did you see what she did here? How this whole apparatus is on hinges?”
“When did it happen?” Jess leaned her elbows on the table, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Duane won’t tell me anything.”
“Look how easy it is to find stuff in here. This is genius.” My brother had moved on to the pantry.
“It’s not official or anything yet.” I glanced in the direction where Shelly had disappeared. “Tonight was our first date.”
“Well, I think it’s awesome.”
“Thanks, Jess.” I had to agree with her, I also thought it was awesome.
My twin strolled up to the table. “What I want to know—”
“Good Lord, Duane. There is plenty of time to admire the finer design elements of this fantastic kitchen. But right now I am gossiping with Beau over pie. Give it a rest,” Jess huffed at my brother.
I had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing outright, but I couldn’t stop my shoulders from shaking.
Duane planted a kiss on Jessica’s forehead and claimed the seat next to hers. “Alls I was going to say is, I want to know what happened at the diner, with those assholes. Why were they after you?”
Rubbing my beard, I decided it was time to bring Duane into the loop. “Drill came to the shop a few weeks ago, told me Christine St. Claire wanted a meeting.”
Duane looked surprised by this news. “Why’d she want a meeting?”
“I don’t know. I put Drill off as long as I could. They cornered me tonight at Daisy’s.”
“What happened?” Now Jess looked concerned.
I told them the gist of it, how the Wraiths had shown up, how Shelly and I had faked them out, how we got away. Duane was impressed—mostly by Shelly’s driving—and so was Jess. And for that matter, so was I.
“And you have no idea why Razor’s old lady wants to speak with you.” Duane glared at me, the muscle in his temple jumping as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. This was his thinking things over face.
“No. Drill said he couldn’t say.”
“You think it’s a trap? They might be aiming to involve you in their chop shop again.” Jess split her attention between the two of us.
“I don’t think so. Cletus has that thing he’s holding over their heads, so I don’t think it’s about the chop shop.” I leaned to the side as the sound of a door closing down the hallway was followed by a sad bark.
“I wonder what it could be.” Duane moved his glare to the tabletop.
Jess sat up straighter as Shelly appeared, her face lighting up. “How are the dogs?”
“They feel neglected.” Shelly walked to the sink and washed her hands.
“You don’t have to keep them in your room on our account.” Jess twisted in her seat to face Shelly. “We love dogs.”
“I don’t know,” Duane stole a bite of Jess’s pie while she was distracted, “those things sounded dangerous.”
“They’re only dangerous if you’re short.” I pushed out Shelly’s chair as she approached.
Shelly reclaimed her seat next to mine. “They miss me. I’ll take them for a run tomorrow and they’ll be fine.”
“Speaking of missing,” I glanced around the kitchen, “where is Oliver?”
“Who is Oliver?” Duane positioned his fork to take another bite of Jess’s pie.
“Oliver is her parrot.”
“You have a parrot?” Jess smacked Duane’s hand even as she smiled at Shelly, her eyes filling with wonder.
With the way she was looking at Shelly, and if I didn’t already know Jess was ass-over-ankles in love with my brother, I might’ve been jealous.
“Yes. I have a parrot.” Shelly’s shoulders tensed and she glanced at me, like she wished I hadn’t mentioned it.
“What’s wrong?” A furrow of concern appeared between Jess’s eyebrows. “Is there something wrong with your parrot?”
Shelly sighed, hesitating, so I decided to answer for her. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with Oliver. But I’m pretty sure he used to be a sailor.”
Shelly’s eyes cut to mine and narrowed. “He wasn’t a sailor.”
“A pirate?”
“No.” Her lips twitched, but she kept on squinting.
“Oh, I get it. He knows dirty words.” Duane, giving up on stealing Jess’s pie, cut himself a new piece.