“Tired. Scared. Shocked. Don’t think I can name everything I’m feeling, Dad.”
“You’ve been through a massive trauma, baby. Your scans have returned clear. The hospital can’t understand how you’re not injured,” Papa said.
“Neither can I. Is there any news on Declan?”
The little boy had begun complaining of stomach pain and had been rushed away. His spleen had ruptured, and he’d needed emergency surgery.
“Declan’s back and sleeping. Look, he’s in the bed next to you.” Papa pointed. I glanced over and was relieved to see Declan snoring.
“Any sign of family?”
“No. Doctors have informed us to expect the police soon. They’ve been in and out, taking survivors’ names, but they stated they need to question people.”
“Any more survivors come in?” I asked. Sadness crossed Dad’s face, and Papa’s went blank. Before they spoke, my gut told me what they were going to say.
“No,” I whispered as tears welled.
“They found Natasha, Pumpkin. She didn’t make it,” Papa announced gently.
“Tash can’t be gone,” I sobbed as Papa wrapped me up. This time, Dad didn’t get up; he climbed onto the bed and held me tightly.
I couldn’t believe she was dead. A tiny piece of me had hoped Natasha had made it. How had she died, and I hadn’t when we’d been at the same table? I shook violently and let grief take me.
Vortex
“The JTTF is going to be sending people to take our statements,” Inglorious said late afternoon.
“Whatever. They can find me at the hospital,” I replied.
His head snapped up. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m checking on Amy. Her dads both looked shell-shocked when I told them her friend was dead. Want to see how they’re doing.”
“Understood. Just don’t be shocked if they refuse to see you. Sometimes they don’t wish to see someone who reminds them of the bad times,” Inglorious said.
I stared at him. Inglorious was saying something without saying it. “You’d know about that.”
He nodded at my guess.
I tilted my head. Inglorious still dreamed about the war. Nanci had told me in confidence that he woke up sweating and calling out for our dead brothers. It hurt Nanci too, because Psych, the former VP, had been her older brother, and they’d been very close.
“If you need to talk…” I offered awkwardly, and Inglorious snorted.
“That was fuckin’ heartfelt. Thanks, but nah. I’ve got Mase, the AA meetings, and Janet. You don’t have to worry about me, Vortex.”
I nodded and began heading through the rec room. Inglorious and I weren’t as tight as we should have been. I’d left the club when Inglorious and some of my former brothers had wiped out the filth that infected our brotherhood after Inglorious’s sister was raped. Naturally, I’d agreed that Vapour should have been put down, but I hadn’t known the reason behind the other killings.
Recently, I discovered Nanci and my cousin Sasha had been on a rape list, as had some of the other female members, including old ladies such as Daisy-Duke. Inglorious had made his move and killed everyone, especially his uncle. At the time, I thought it was revenge because Rhea was raped. But I also believed it was a purge and power play as Inglorious took president.
Several others and I had left without knowing the truth. When Nanci had called me to say she was returning to the club, I’d come with her and discovered what really happened. I’d treated the man who saved my cousin from being raped like trash and ignored his pain. That made me the asshole. I hated being the asshole.
Now we were working on establishing the relationship between a president and a VP. Ain’t gonna lie and say it was easy. Inglorious struggled with alcoholism, although he was sober now. He seemed to have somehow channelled his addiction into Nanci, and while many may disagree, Nanci was a healthier choice. Even her temper and ball busting didn’t put him off. Inglorious was much braver than anyone gave him credit for handling Nanci.
The woman might have been my best friend, but fuck me, she could turn a man into a wailing pussy in less than a minute. Just ask Chill. He was her latest victim. Nanci had determined that Chill liked Meadow, and that was it—Nanci had a mission. Sweet and light would never be words used to describe Nanci. Fuckin’ loyal, loving, heart of gold could be used though.
The clubhouse was crammed with allies. The Feds had kicked the search and rescue teams out around eleven. All they were finding were bodies or body parts. There was nothing more we could have done.
There were two hotels in Merritt, and we’d opened them up. Once the rooms were full, we placed cots and sleeping bags in the open indoor spaces. People slept on sofas and in armchairs, anywhere they could drop and sleep, really. The old ladies had left platters of food out and hit the sack themselves. A few hours later, they woke and started cooking again.
