“I don’t make toys. I fix cars and bikes,” Duck protests.
“You could try making toys!” one twin insists.
“I don’t have time?—”
“SANTA IS MAGIC!”
Duck shoots Hawk a desperate look and Hawk just laughs, offering no help whatsoever.
I’m in the middle of watching this unfold when the main door opens and a woman walks in. She’s older—maybe sixty—with gray hair pulled back in a bun and worry lines deep around her eyes.
The atmosphere shifts immediately.
Duck sees her first and his expression goes dark. He’s across the room in seconds, meeting her near the entrance.
“Mrs. Olsen?” I hear him say. “What’s wrong?”
She says something to him I can’t hear, then hands him a piece of paper. I watch Duck’s expression go dark as he leads her toward where Dad and Tank are standing. Hawk joins them, and suddenly there’s a tight cluster of people having a very serious conversation near the kitchen.
Bones’s hand lands on my shoulder. “Stay here,” he says quietly.
“What’s happening?”
“I don’t know yet. Just stay with the girls.”
He moves toward the group and I’m left watching, frustrated by my inability to get up and follow. Andi slides into the chair next to me.
“That’s Erica Olsen,” she says quietly. “She lives over on Maple Street. Last time she was here, it was because Summit was trying to slap a bogus fine on her prize-winning roses. The club helped her out. So I’m guessing whatever’s in those papers she’s showing them isn’t good. Especially when she looks scared.”
I’m scared too. Just the mention of Summit and I can feel the tension curl through my body and seep deep into my bones.Not again.
“Is it always like this now?” I whisper to Andi, the air gone heavy in the span of a few minutes.
“Like what?”
“One minute it’s Christmas in July and the next?—”
“Everyone’s ready to throw down at a moment’s notice? Yeah, that’s MC life.” She scoots closer and lowers her voice. “You OK?”
I shake my head. “I don’t . . . I don’t know. I don’t remember it being like that.”
“Oh, honey,” Maggie says, her weathered hand resting on my shoulder. “It was always like this. You were a kid before. Kids leave the room.”
Looking to where the kids were just a moment ago, I realize she’s right. Steel and some of the others have left with them, probably playing games in another room, completely unaware. I sit with that for a moment, letting the truth of it settle. I was gone for so long, I forgot how much of this life is lived with one ear alwaysangled toward the next explosion. And yet, here I am, back in the blast radius, and part of me is . . . relieved? Like the rules finally make sense again. Like maybe I was built for this kind of chaos all along.
The rest of me wants to hide in the ladies’ room until everyone goes home. Which, judging by the volume of the heated voices by the kitchen, would mean hiding till morning.
We watch as Erica spreads the papers she brought on the counter. Dad and Tank lean in to look, their expressions getting darker with each page. Dad calls Josie over, and while she reads, Hawk says something that makes Erica nod, her hands twisting together.
Whatever this is, it’s bad.
After about ten minutes, Dad straightens up and looks around the room. His eyes find mine for a moment, and I see something that looks a lot like guilt.
“Church!” he calls out. “Officers, now.”
The word cuts through what was left of the party like a blade. Tank, Hawk, Axel—they all move immediately toward the chapel. Duck pats Erica’s shoulder and follows.
Bones stays where he is, standing near the kitchen, watching them go. His expression is carefully neutral, but I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands curl into fists at his sides.
