When Lynx nodded at something Mama said, rose from the table, and left the building without his plates in hand, Zeus stilled. The second the front door shut, everyone at the table except Mama shifted away from the food on their plates and ate the food off Lynx’s plate. Zeus even found himself walking over to snatch up an abandoned biscuit before walking back to the booth.
“You know you all are wrong,” Sabrina said, shaking her head.
She still hadn’t gotten used to it, but it made sense to Zeus. He believed that at some point everyone in this room had to fight for scraps to survive. Just because they could have most anything they wanted now didn’t mean they no longer had to protect what they valued; they still had to watch over what was theirs or risk losing it because those who hungered were always watching and waiting.
“It’s a family tradition, Sabrina,” Terry said, winking at Mama.
Only smears of gravy were left on Lynx’s plates before everyone went back to their own food, their banter louder than the blues playing in the background.
Lynx had the saint at his side when he returned, gray sweats hung loosely over the saint’s gaunt frame and bruises mottled his pale face. The man was lucky his face wasn’t riddled with bullet holes; Bride had a quick trigger reflex. Her obsession with guns just didn’t seem natural.
Head bowed, the saint’s lips moved in what looked to be fervent prayer as Lynx escorted him to a solitary table toward the back of the room. Lynx shook his head when he walked past the communal table and saw the condition of his plate. Lynx was the only one to lose his food since Zeus had been recovering on the mountain, yet he seemed surprised each time it happened. Zeus didn’t believe he ever had to fight to survive for his meals.
After blessing his food, the young saint opened his eyes and ate like a starved man. The man had been on the other side of the mountain for days and had chosen to starve instead of hunt in a forest rich with game and edible plants. He’d deserved his hunger.
Sabrina placed a hand on Zeus’s thigh and whispered, “Maybe we should have said grace?”
“You are my grace, and I say your name daily.”
Sabrina’s eyes softened and she pressed a lingering kiss on his shoulder before returning to her food.
Zeus continued to watch the saint, continued to watch the Brood joke and tease each other though he sensed their attention never strayed from the terrified man. The rumble of an engine, doors slamming shut, heavy feet stomping up the front porch put him on alert.
The room went silent as the front door flung open and Big Country stepped through with keys in one hand, a gun in the other, and wrinkled boxers as his only attempt at modesty. The sex witch who’d handed out the gift bags the night of that party was abandoned in the doorway as Big Country headed straight for the food and grabbed three plates.
“I tell y’all what,” Big Country said. “If I’da walked in this som’bitch and all my biscuits was gone, I’d of knocked this fucker off its foundation. Every last one of y’all would have enjoyed your last meal, that much I guarantee.”
Mama rose from her seat, wiped her hands and mouth with a napkin, and headed over to the sex-witch pinching Big Country on his arm as she moved past him. “Boy, don’t think I’d let you tear up my house again just because you didn’t get a biscuit,” Mama said as she pulled the sex witch fully into the bar and hugged her. “It’s good to have you back Stormy.”
“Good to see you again, Almaya, even though everyplace this one goes, he’s threatening something or someone.”
“All I’m sayin’ is these biscuits come from my grandmère’s recipe. If they’re made and I don’t get any, her spirit calls out for vengeance and I can’t be responsible for what happens. I’d mourn y’alls passing, though.”
Not waiting for his woman, Big Country sat at the table with the saint. “How you doin’ cousin? You sleep well, you ain’t got a concussion or nothing ’cause you was out cold when I left.” Big Country’s words never paused as he consumed half a plate of biscuits. “What I’m trying to figure out is how you get that shiner—wasn’t there last night when I left you.”
The saint’s eyes darted and retreated from Bride. “There was a misunderstanding of intent,” the saint said.
“Yeah,” Lynx said between bites. “Bride misunderstood that an offer to have her sins cleansed wasn’t a plea for her to smash the hell out of his face with a gun.”
Big Country shrugged. “Women, huh, who can ever guess how they’ll react to an act of random kindness?”
Mama guided Stormy over to the communal table, but Big Country pulled out a seat for her on the other side of him. Mama sat her there instead.
“Those two shared a gift bag,” Zeus assured Sabrina, watching the way Big Country ate with one hand and massaged the inside of Stormy’s thigh with the other.
Big Country joked with the saint, and the man lost his pensiveness, even smiled as he quietly engaged with Big Country and Stormy as if the rest of the Brood had faded out of existence.
To have to talk or listen to someone he didn’t give a shit about seemed like it would be exhausting, Zeus thought, but the more Big Country and the sex witch engaged with the saint, the more he shared about how he’d come to be dropped off on the side of the highway and instructed to watch the road that led to Mama’s House.
“It must have been you out there the night of my party,” Stormy said. “I knew something was out there, but then you seemed to disappear.”
“I saw you,” the saint said, rattling off the make and model of the vehicle Stormy rode in as well as the vehicle’s license plate number. Stormy confirmed that the information was one hundred percent accurate.
The saint proudly informed Big Country that in the near two weeks he’d been watching the road he’d remembered each car that had gone up the mountain, detailing the number of vehicles and the number of times they returned. He stated that he could describe each car and its corresponding license plate number. He also reported that on those occasions where he could make out the people inside the vehicles, he could give a detailed description of them as well.
Zeus’s fingers moved rhythmically, phantom blade twirling through them.
Big Country held out his hand and shook the saint’s when they locked grips.
