“Why doesn’t Oscar have a mom?”
That’s a place we’re not going. “Do you ever stop talking?” I ask as I park the truck.
She doesn’t take offence. “When I’m sleeping.”
“You probably talk in your sleep.”
She grins. “Probably.” She hops out of the truck, then watches as I slide my cut out of a pocket in the back seat and shrug it on.
“What’s that?” She asks. Of course she does.
“Club colors,” I reply, then wish I’d just said vest.
“What’s that mean?”
“It’s what we call a cut. A vest with our logo on it.”
She walks around me and whistles. “Hell’s Jury. Awesome logo.” It’s been a while since I’ve thought about it, but the skull and wings with the raven on top is a remarkable piece of art.
“Yeah,” I say. “We got a painted one inside. Fills up the wall.”
I head towards the door and she waves at Chili as she follows me.
Her initial reluctance seems to have disappeared. I actually think she’s having fun.
It doesn’t last though because the moment she steps into the main room, Max sees her. “What are you doing here?” he asks in a big voice. His eyes stray to me. “What’s she doing here? And where’s Oscar?” He looks back at Henri. “Did you finally kill him?” Back to me. “Is that why’s she here?” He looks at Henri. “To take a long walk in the desert?”
She returns his hostile gaze, her lip curling. “Why would I want to take a long walk in the desert, you moron?”
“You are so stupid,” Max sneers.
Verity, Hangman’s former wife, and a candidate for Bitch-of-the-Year, comes over. “Where’s Oscar?”
None of your fucking business, I want to say, but I’m not about to disrespect her in front of the kids. “With Henri’s mom.”
Brielle wanders out of the kitchen, spies us and heads over. “Hi,” she says shyly to Henri.
Brielle is Max’s sister, but Verity isn’t her mother, despite taking on the role. A passaround is. Or was. Megan disappeared and we pretty much know she’s dead. We know who did the killing, but we don’t know who paid for it.
“Hi,” Henri replies boldly. “Are you Brielle?”
Brielle’s eyes widen. “How’d you know?”
She jerks her thumb towards me. “Eight said.”
“Who’re you?”
“Seven,” Henri smirks as she looks slyly at Max. “Club name.”
It’s evident that Max can’t decide how to react. I think he’s pissed that she gave herself a club name and he never thought to. “Lame-o,” he says.
“I like it,” Brielle says. She turns to Verity. “Can I have one?”
“You’re a kid. You don’t need one,” Verity replies briskly.
Henri casts a quick narrowed-eye glance at Verity, then says to Brielle, “What do you want to be called?”
Brielle is momentarily caught off guard, glancing between Henri and Verity, then cautiously says, “Can I be Six?”
