“I sure hope so,” she said as she eyed my beer, noting I was more than halfway done. “But for right now, I think I’m happy to wait. I think I just want to make sure.”
I nodded, finished my beer, and slammed a twenty down.
“No round two?” she asked.
“The only thing that’s going to be a round two here,” I said. “Is our date.”
Mostly, I just knew staying there would only serve to torture me further as Jess tried to hold things over my head. I suspected she really did have to figure out some things—maybe she was getting caught up in the thrill of it as well.
Either way, I had come, I had gotten what I wanted, and now it was time for me to bail. And so, without another word, I left Tom’s Billiards, satisfied with the result and curious to see what would come. And it was a damn good thing, too.
Because for as good as what had just happened was, what was set to follow was going to be a fucking awful nightmare.
* * *
I rode my bike out of the comforting, peaceful, and embracing arms of Ashton and into the place that constantly reminded me of my father’s death—the place where I actually lived, where all mail and documentation came to.
Springsville.
And not just the graveyard. Not just my apartment on the outskirts of town.
The real heart of Springsville.
Just thinking the location felt like inflicting a curse on myself. Even though the town as a whole was a nice enough place, with enough local restaurants and landmarks that I felt like I could have lived there if not for... them, it still had too many awful associations for me.
For the time being, it would have to be known as the place where my father was murdered.
But since I was here, in the belly of the beast, I figured I might as well check out some of the old spots.
First, I drove to Mama Sue’s. The diner didn’t have any Black Reapers in it at the moment, thank God, but it looked to have a healthy number of customers inside. It was good to see the town’s favorite diner still going, even with the threat of the Fallen Saints lurking once more.
Next, I headed over to Main Street and checked out Bottle Revolution. There were no customers there, but for it being a weekday evening, that was to be expected. Bottle Revolution was never a place that packed a ton of people, anyway, and the fact that Axle’s girlfriend wasn’t there made it certain none ofthemwould be there.
The last place I wanted to check out, though, was one that I kept distance from until it came into view. I had to see it for myself. Had it really suffered as I had been told?
Carter’s Auto Repair. And, in turn, the Black Reapers’ clubhouse.
And...
Holy shit.
The place looked ravaged.
Explosive stains marred the building all over, as did holes in what windows were still intact. There were bikes outside; the grounds still served as a meeting spot for the Black Reapers, but the Fallen Saints had clearly struck a devastating blow. This was not an invincible fortress by any stretch of the imagination; if anything, what Father Marcellus had said about the place being attacked understated how badly the Saints had inflicted damage.
But it wasn’t like it was going to get me to change my mind. I didn’t feel any sort of gleeful vengeance; more just surprise at how badly the Black Reapers had gotten attacked.
And how that will be the Gray Reapers next if you are not careful.
I hated to admit it, but I knew how true that was.
I just didn’t know if it was the kind of thing I needed to worry about right now.
And then I froze as someone on a bike approached me. A Black Reaper. I tensed, but I did not move my hand to my gun. I had not come here to incite a civil war.
And then the Reaper came closer into view.
Father Marcellus.
