Chapter 14
Indigo
Duke and the guys must have decided I deserved a rest because when I cracked my eyes open and gazed at the window, I could tell the sunlight that had peeked its rays through my curtains was now the golden twilight of early evening. I yawned and tried to stretch, my aching muscles reminding me I’d had a little bit of a rough night last night. Recreational electrocution really took it out of a girl. I winced as I looked at myself in the mirror. Falling asleep with makeup on after a light torture session gave me the appearance of an emo raccoon. I padded over to the shower and stripped down, stepping gingerly into the hot spray before relaxing and allowing the luxurious heat to penetrate my sore muscles. I heaved a sigh as my shoulders eased away from my ears and rolled my neck to try to ease the crick I’d had there since awakening in the confessional.
After washing my face, body, and hair, I stepped out of the shower and dried myself, wrapping my hair in my towel after I swiped the steamoff the mirror. I took the opportunity to check myself over, but other than a few bruises and barb marks from Priest’s taser, I was fine. Or as fine as I’d ever be. Last night had beena lot,and I needed time, coffee, and carbs to process my feelings. I threw on a pair of ratty old gray sweats that hung precariously low on my hips but were so buttery soft I couldn’t help but adore them, a bra, a poppy-red tank top, and a pair of socks. Deeming myself appropriately attired to rummage around the clubhouse kitchen like the feral raccoon I was at heart, I put my damp hair into a sloppy braid and headed out in search of sustenance.
I tippy-toed down the stairs, surprised to find the clubhouse eerily quiet. Since the Los Cuervos headquarters was rarely empty, it was seldom quiet. Today, however, a hush lay upon the space. The club girls wouldn’t be here this early, so that explained the absence of their irritating giggles and squeals. Not to mention the other sounds I heard them make from behind the closed bedroom doors of several Crows. Eww. No one was at the bar or in the main room of the clubhouse, so I crept as quietly as I could through the saloon-style doors and into the hallway leading to the dining and kitchen areas. Maybe everyone was in church or some of the other outbuildings?
I walked into the kitchen but stopped short when I realized someone was at the table. Lorna, Priest’s mom and Duke’s ole lady, had a cup of coffee cooling in front of her. She sat back in her chair, sightless eyes fixed on her mug. I didn’t think she was aware that I was frozen in the doorway like a deer caught in headlights. When it became apparent to me that she wasn’t going to yell at me for foraging in her kitchen, or that she even knew I was there at all, I unlocked my limbs and continued my mission to locate and consume carbs.
I put a bagel in the toaster and filled and drank an entire glass of water from the kitchen faucet while it toasted. I slathered my slightly scorched bagel in cream cheese and exchanged my glass with a mug of coffee from the pot on the counter. As I was putting my knife and glass in the dishwasher and wondering if I should just take my food and run, Lorna finally spoke.
“You can eat that here. Don’t leave on my account.”
I nodded and placed the paper towel my bagel was wrapped in on the table along with my mug.
“Thank you,” I murmured, curling my feet under me as I took a seat at the worn kitchen table. We sat in silence, regarding each other while I ate. I had been introduced to Lorna when I first became a guest of the Crows, but I didn’t see her around the clubhouse much. Usually, she was only around on the weekly family night for dinner. She had never been rude or mean to me, but she hadn’t exactly been warm either. Lorna might not speak to me, but I felt her eyes on me sometimes. Watching. The sensation wasn’t new to me, though. I almost always felt like I had eyes on me when Los Cuervos were around.
“My son hurt you,” she said quietly, tucking her dusty-brown hair behind her ear.
I didn’t want to minimize what happened by telling her that I’d been hurt so sosomuch worse before, that what occurred with Priest in the confessional might as well have been a tickle fight. What he did wasn’t cool, but I wasn’t going to be dramatic and milk the situation either. So I went with a noncommittal shrug in response. A few bites of my bagel later, Lorna spoke again.
“When they were kids, Lochlan and Ellis got along for the most part. Lochlan was older, and usually, he’d be patient with her when Ellis would get it in her head to get up to some foolishness. I could see him bite his tongue when she got sassy with him, trying to stay patient. Sometimes he was successful; other times, they’d end up bickering and fighting. He’s got a temper and he’d say things in the heat of the moment, but he’d always feel bad and make it up to her.” Lorna’s eyes shone with unshed tears as she remembered her children together and a part of me felt sorry for her unimaginable loss. Like one-fourth of me. The other three-fourths? Those parts of me were hoping that she wasn’t going where I thought she was going with this little trip down memory lane.
Giving her the benefit of the doubt, I sat back in my chair and replied, “I’m sure he did. I don’t have siblings, but I know they fight and make up on a regular basis as children if sit-coms are anything to go by.”
She took a sip of her coffee and nodded. “He was always sorry, and he’d apologize when he had a chance to calm down. Are you understanding what I’m trying to say?” Balls. She was really doing this?I knew she was about to hate what I was going to tell her, but I felt like it had to be said.
“Honestly, ma’am…First Ole Lady Lorna…that’s a crock of shit.”
Her mug clanked on the table as she set it down in surprise. She was the prez’s wife, so I was willing to bet that people didn’t speak all that frankly with her about her own family. But she was fixing to discover that I was a unique and beautiful snowflake and didn’t mind calling things like I saw them in the slightest.
“Maybe I misunderstood, milady, but it sounded to me like you were excusing Priest’s shitty history of behavior because he felt remorseful after the fact. Certainly, you weren’t raising your daughter to endure verbal or physical abuse so long as her abuser looked appropriately apologetic afterward?”
Lorna’s mouth opened and closed on repeat like a fish, and it was hard to keep a straight face while shefloundered. Get it?Floundered. Gah, I crack myself up sometimes.
“No, that’s not…I was trying to say that he’s a passionate person who sometimes…”
“Abducts women and tortures them for information?” I helpfully supplied. “And you thought, what? That if he said sorry and looked really sad about what he’d done I’d be likeaw, shucks, I can’t stay mad at you when you look so pitiful? ’Cause I gotta say, lady, that’s fucked up.” I took a bite of my bagel and chewed slowly while Lorna processed my words. She grimaced like they gave her a tummy ache. Truth does that sometimes.
I continued, “That’s not to say that emotions don’t get the better of all of us sometimes. You’re right that we can get so caught up in our feelings that we don’t always consider the consequences of our actions. But if what you’re saying is true, it sounds more like a history of poor impulse control and anger management problems. I’m not a doctor or anything, but I read a lot of self-help books when I lived in a library for a while in Chicago. That was fun; if you ever have the opportunity to live in a library, you should take it. The head librarian thought I was a ghost.” I cackled at the memory of the stuffy-looking librarian burning sage and mumbling prayers when he saw the note I left on the break room cabinets in drippy red ink. Good times.
A knock on the doorjamb announced the presence of Ratched, who looked exhausted. I perked up a bit. It had been a while since I’d seen him.
“Hey, Ratched! Long time no see! Want a coffee and a schmear?” I wiggled my bagel at him, slightly charred and smothered in cream cheese, just how I liked it. Ratched gave me a tired smile. “Or maybe a nap would hit the spot?”
“Hey there, I heard we’re to call you Indigo now? That’s great.” I sat up straighter in my seat and grinned. “Duke sent me to fetch you. You’re needed in church to give a statement.” Lorna, who had risen and walked over to the sink, must have dropped her mug because a loud clanking rang through the kitchen before she twirled around to glare at Ratched.
“Only Crows are allowed in church.” She glared at me.
I shrugged my shoulders. “I mean, it looked like a conference room to me the last time I was there. I kind of expected some stained glass or a font or something. I was a little disappointed, to be honest.”
Ratched ignored my criticism and shrugged at Lorna. “Duke said to fetch her, so I’m fetching her. If you don’t like it, I suggest you take it up with him.”
I stuffed the remainder of my bagel in my mouth and put my mug in the dishwasher, then followed Ratched down the hallway. A second later, I heard the door off the kitchen slam and assumed that Lorna preferred to rip Duke a new one in the comfort of her own home.
“How ya been, Ratched?” He looked over his shoulder at me and shrugged.
