“Damn, pumpkin, you’ve had a rough time,” Papa muttered.
“You’re telling me,” I quipped and subsided.
“You know, if you give up that apartment and come home, you’ll save money,” Dad wheedled. There it was.
“Luckily, Dad, I did what you and Papa taught me. Thirty per cent of my wages went into a separate account. I can easily exist for two years on my savings.”
Dad scowled. Papa matched it. As much as they wanted me to be independent, I was their little girl.
“Well done for listening,” Dad said sourly.
“Will you make chocolate s’mores?” I demanded, and Dad perked up. He made them a certain way, and they were definitely morish.
“Anything for you, Amy,” Dad replied and wrapped his arm around me.
Vortex
“Any news on what happened?” I asked two days after the accident.
“Feds have confirmed explosives on board. ATF has been collecting the remains of the bomb and is trying to find a signature,” Inglorious replied.
“Willow?”
“Yup, she’s keeping me updated. Especially since we’re housing the Feds,” Inglorious griped.
I felt for him. The town was due for its grand opening in two weeks. Now, one of our pristine hotels was being used by the various departments investigating. Willow ensured they paid up front, too. She wasn’t going to let the government string Inglorious along with payments.
They were well known for that. Each agent had an expense card, or the team leader did. Willow had made them pay in advance and told them that on the seventh day, they would either pay for a second week or get out.
None had argued, although there’d been some dour looks. The club had also had a bonus. Food had been ordered for the chefs in the restaurants and the takeaways. The plan had been to test the menus, and instead of it going to waste or us getting fat, the Feds were paying to eat it. Gotta admit, we were a little on edge; having this many law enforcement officers around would put anyone on guard.
“Can’t believe someone bombed it. Wonder why. No terrorist organisation is claiming responsibility,” Oil announced from where he was listening.
“Something seems off,” Inglorious agreed.
“Gravey has freaked out that strangers have been near the graveyard and church,” Nanci said, entering. “I’ve calmed him down, but Gravey’s now sat out there with a shotgun. Can we warn the feds to stay the fuck away? There’s no reason for them to be intruding.”
“Damn. I’ll contact Willow. You’re right, there is no need. This disaster has brought out more curious gawkers. It’s been hard enough keeping them out of town,” Inglorious replied, frustrated.
“We’re still going ahead with the grand opening?” I asked.
“Yes. We need to get this place open. But I think we’ll also have to discuss a memorial for the site.”
Inglorious’s eyes took on a distant gaze. No doubt he was tired of memorials. There were plenty focused on what happened in the war with the Venomous Fangs. And half were dedicated to the MC who’d lost all but three members, us. We were slowly clawing our way back from that.
When Nanci landed, out of the three who remained, two had been drunk: Chill and Inglorious. However, Inglorious had been a full-blown alcoholic. Razor had been dealing with cancer, which left the prospects to run the club. Two had taken advantage, and Nanci had kicked their asses. Moon andKing were made members for how they’d handled everything. I’d returned alongside Hercules, and then Lasher and Oil had returned from nomad status.
Nanci discovered Gravey hiding out in the church and learned he was also a brother. But he had a weird ass relationship with the club. He hated people and preferred solitude. Gravey loved to ride his Harley and had decided the graveyard and church were his business. Inglorious let him have his privacy but ensured Gravey had everything he needed. I can’t say I was surprised that Gravey was now guarding what he saw as his territory with a shotgun.
Those who’d died during the war were buried privately there. The cemetery wasn’t a tourist site; it was personal to us. Our fallen brothers were laid to rest there. It wasn’t open to the general public to gawk at. Nobody had the right to stare at our pain and grief.
“Shit, will you leave me alone, woman!” Chill exclaimed, and Inglorious and I turned.
Nanci had cornered him, and Chill had one hand over his balls as he attempted to escape. She wore an expression that could only be classed as determined and demonic.
“Are you going to tell Chill he’s fucked?” I asked.
“Nah. It’s more fun watching Chill squirm.” Inglorious threw Chill under the bus. “Have you ever tried to get Nanci to change track?” He laughed. “Yeah? Then you understand, nothing I say will distract her. Chill’s on his own.”
