“Since when was I inducted into the last name basis club?”
“Third time here, you’ve earned it. Don’t mean you get to keep it, though.”
I rolled my eyes and sipped the coffee, almost gagging at the taste of it. It was definitely an acquired taste, and I wasn’t quite there yet. If allowed, I was going to try and set up the timer on their coffee pot so I could have a decent cup when I got here in a morning, because the slop they were serving… there was only one word for it: Nasty.
“So, what have you boys cooked up for me today?”
“You’re asking the wrong guy. I don’t call the shots, I just make sure they’re executed.”
“You’re telling me everyone’s still asleep?”
“Pretty much.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised. How about we wake them up with some good old fashioned biscuits and sausage gravy?”
“You can do that?”
“If I go to the store, sure.”
“You kidding? It gets fucking expensive cooking for this many men. Write a list and I’ll go. That way you can see if there’s anything you need in the kitchen. It hasn’t been used in a while.”
“Isn’t that beneath you?” I asked, taking a sip of coffee and regretting it immediately.
“We all pull our weight around here, including me. You’re doing something nice, feeding a bunch of assholes who can’t make toast between them. Full bellies make for good attitudes. You’ll see.”
Hopping from the bench and disappearing inside, Kenny came back out with his confident swagger, the chains on his belt announcing his arrival before his boots clomped on the wood of the bench and he produced a pad and pen.
“You sure about this?”
“It’s food, Hanagan. Not a gold-plated jock strap.”
He was gone the moment the list was finished, while I stayed where I was on the bench with a fresh cup of coffee. I actually didn’t mind the peace of sitting outside. The birds had started singing hours ago, but their enthusiasm grew the higher the sun crawled into the sky. It was peaceful other than that. There was no stirring from inside The Hut, and I doubted there would be until I started cooking.
There was one thing guaranteed to get Tate out of bed on the weekends and that was the smell of bacon. I just hoped these boys woke up in a better mood. The thought of that many men in a piss poor frame of mind wasn’t appealing at all.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Drew
It took me over an hour to figure out how to set my old alarm, last night. I didn't have a phone yet and had no intention of picking one up anytime soon. Five years was a long time to have gotten behind with technology. I really didn't want to have to ask Kenny or Deeks for lessons in digit dialing. I was proud in more ways than one. When I finally got the alarm working, I’d done some cool-down stretches up against the walls of my room, then pretty much collapsed in a heap on top of my comforter—stomach down, face planted, muscles resting.
I’d done enough of this training back in the day to know that in order for me to have any hope of walking for the rest of the week, I was going to have to get up at the crack of dawn and run the aches out of my legs nice and early. It was all about consistency. It was all about momentum. Once you started back on that train, you could only take so many stops. You could only sit down when it was absolutely necessary, and you could only allow yourself so much in the way of sleep.
I hadn’t heard anyone up when I’d thrown on my running gear and slipped out of the back door. I knew that if Slater, Harry or Jedd saw me, they’d want to know where the hell I was going on my own again, and they’d start to worry.As a collective, we didn’t make a habit of spending much time alone, and I knew that all they were seeing of me at the moment was my back as I continued to find reasons and excuses to walk away.
They didn’t understand how much I needed to breathe.
Even though the sun was out, and I knew it would only be a small matter of time before my thick sweat pants and even thicker hoodie got too much for me, I threw up the hood and pulled it tight under my chin. The more sweat my body produced, the quicker I’d get in shape. It was boxing training basics. Pour out the excess fat, build up what’s left of the muscles. For every step I took against the concrete, I could hear Pete’s voice cheering me on or giving me tips on how to improve my technique.
Elbows up, fists to chest. Push from the calves; don’t put too much weight on the balls of your feet. You ain’t a fucking ballerina, Drew. This isn’t a dance studio; this is the streets.
I didn’t really have any idea how much time had passed when I finally took the turn down the road where the yard sat, but I could take a guess that it was still way too early for the whiskey and the beer to have worked its way out of the other brothers’ bloodstreams just yet. I was covered in sweat, rubbing my brows, lips, and chin constantly with the forearms of my top as I turned through the open gates and kept my head down. It was only when I lifted my hands to finally bring down my hood that I saw a female body sitting on the bench outside, looking like she was waiting for some kind of cabana boy to come and serve her a cocktail and hand her a cold towel.
Ayda.
I tried to catch my breath and slow the heaving of my chest while I stood there. For the first time since I laid eyes on her, she looked at peace. Her lids were half closed andher chin was angled towards the sunlight as she took a single second for herself, away from the rest of the world. And I couldn’t help but wonder if she found it as hard to breathe her way through life as I did.
My mouth was dry and desperate for water, but all I could do was stand there watching her, somehow finding my own kind of calm just from witnessing hers. It was only when I licked my lips to try and gain some movement that I saw her slowly begin to turn and face me.
