Preacher’s brow creases further, as if I didn’t just volunteer to solve this for him at great personal expense. Or something like that.
“I’ll get a burner phone tomorrow. I’ll drop it off and tell her she has an hour to call after she gets it. Will you answer then? Please?”
“I love that you still say please.”
“You’re not obligated.”
“Aren’t I?”
“No,” he says flatly, but we both know it isn’t really true. “You answer that call and I’ll ask Rita to make you that cherry cheesecake you like. A whole one.”
“There’s this wonderful thing called takeout. I could order one up anytime I like. You can even get groceries online and dropped right at your door. But props for resorting to some formof bribery at last. I like it. Lowering your moral standards, one dessert at a time.”
He’s the one who rolls his eyes.
He opens the door and I do the hospitable thing and walk over to close it after him. He stands on the doorstep under the covered overhang where I park my bike. He gives me that look that says he’s both worried about me, thankful as hell, and that he hasn’t properly processed any of this.
“If I answer that call, you had best make sure it’s the best cheesecake of my life, or screw the unobligated thing. You’re gonna oweme, and I’ll make sure it’s something that you can’t live down.”
“Don’t push your luck, sunshine,” he grunts.
I just stare back blankly at him.
He gives me a tight nod, one of those things guys do for each other that says a whole lot more than words can say. We’ve said enough for now. Far more than enough. This is probably more words than I’ve uttered in the last year combined.
I don’t like it.
I don’t like Preacher walking away,knowing, and everything being different. What is there to do about it? Just like most things in my life, I know the answer to that is nothing.
Chapter 3
Fawnie
It’s been one full day.
One day that felt like a thousand years, just as I knew it would.
Thirty-four hours, or ten thousand years, I still haven’t processed any of this. Not what Dad said when he came over yesterday afternoon after talking with the man who saved my life. He tried to explain everything, but both of us are still in shock. The fact that the man I’ve wanted to find so badly is living right here, and has been for five years. That he’s as close to my dad as he can get because he’s a patched-in member of the same club.
My brain still traces over the connections, and it does make sense. I’m just struggling to get over that giant hurdle of disbelief.
Maybe Dad is right. I’ve made this man to be some kind of superhero and he’s just a regular guy. Just a scared person who was barely more than a teenager himself, who did something brave.
Dad made me promise that I would leave it at a phone call. He tried to make me understand that some people value their privacy, and that Shadow—his club name, not his real name—isn’t a people person. He likes being alone. Attention is the last thing he wants. He doesn’t even want to meet me because any sort of hero worship is something he can’t deal with.
I tried to say that it wouldn’t go down that way, but Dad didn’t believe me.
Go figure. I didn’t believe me either.
My hands have been shaking, and I’ve been a total wreck since Dad dropped off the burner phone twenty minutes ago. He told me I had an hour window to call. It’s weird. Will the phone explode after sixty minutes? Will it turn into a pumpkin at the stroke of midnight?
Wrong fairytale.
You’re not supposed to be living a fairytale at all. That’s the point.
Dad was probably the one who settled on an hour. He gave me the burner to respect this man’s privacy. I know that anyone from the club who could help me find his address probably won’t now, because Dad’s likely talked to them.
I’ve clung to the few pieces of information Dad gave me. This man, Shadow, is five years older than me. I know he went to counselling with Dad at church, but never attended the church. He lived a few blocks from our house, so he was able to see the smoke the night of the fire. He moved here because he needed more opportunities than Ohio offered, and it seemed a good place to start. And he’s been here for the last few years, doing the club books and scheduling at one of their nightclubs.
