The main room is alive the way it always is this time of night—brothers at the bar, a card game going in the corner, a couple club girls laughing too loudly near the jukebox.Smoke fogs up under the lights.Somebody’s grilling out back.The whole place smells like whiskey, leather, and trouble.
Chux is at the big table near the far wall with Riot and Shaft, going over paperwork that never seems to end running a port.He lifts his chin when he sees me.
“You done redecorating bars for the evening?”Chux asks with a cocky smirk.
I shrug my shoulders, “For now.”
Shaft, our sergeant-at-arms, grins without looking up from the ledger in front of him.“Heard it was a good hit.”
“Would’ve been better outside,” I share my real feelings.
Prez leans back in his chair.“Name?”
“Didn’t get it.”
“Local?”
“Didn’t ask.”
That gets all three of them looking at me now.
I know what they hear in that.The lack of clarity in the moment.Usually I gather details without thinking.Not because I’m sentimental.Because information matters.Because if trouble’s in our town, I want to know where it came from and where it’s headed next.It’s my instincts that override my brain.
Tonight, all I noticed was her.I don’t love that realization.In fact, it crawls under my skin.
Riot smirks.“Woman must’ve been pretty.”
I don’t answer.
His smirk widens.“Ah, so she was.”
“Drop it,” I state.
“Touchy.”
Chux studies me another second, then nods toward the kitchen.“Go eat something before you pick a fight with your own shadow.”
I almost tell him I’m not hungry.Then my stomach reminds me I skipped dinner.That is Chux and how he operates.The motherfucker can read any brother in the club with one gaze.
I head into the kitchen and find a tray of brisket, potato salad, and a stack of white bread.I make a plate and take it out to the back porch where it’s quieter.The night wraps around me, thick and humid, grasshoppers and frogs making their own music in the night.
I sit on the top step and eat in silence.
Halfway through, the screen door creaks and Chux steps out, a beer in hand.He doesn’t say anything at first.Just takes the post beside the stairs and leans his shoulder into it.
Finally, he speaks, “You all right?”
I snort.“Everybody keeps asking me that.”
“That usually means something’s off.”
I tear off a piece of bread.“Guy got what he had coming.”
“Didn’t ask about him.”
I look out over the dark yard.“He grabbed her wrist.”
Chux waits.I don’t know why I keep talking, but the words come anyway.“She froze.”My jaw flexes.“Didn’t yell.Didn’t fight.Just shut down for a second.Like she left her body.”
