I finish my coffee, rinse the mug, and check the time.Still an hour before church.I should eat.Should do something productive.Should stop thinking about blonde hair and blue eyes and the way she said my name before everything went to shite.
Tank.
My name in her mouth sounded right.Sounded real.
And I destroyed it.
Church is the usual.Territory disputes, supply chain issues, someone's cousin causing trouble in Cork.I sit there, half-listening, contributing when I need to but mostly just present.My head's not in it.I can't focus on club business when my mind keeps drifting back to a small flat on the Northside and a woman who probably hates me now.
Deservedly.
Pyro sits at the head of the table, Raptor on his right.VP's got his arms crossed, listening to Preacher drone on about some issue with a shipment.Rush is drumming his fingers on the table, impatient as always.Bozo's cleaning his nails with a knife, not paying attention to anything.
"Tank."
I look up.Pyro's staring at me, expression unreadable.
"Yeah?"
"You hear what I said?"
"Yeah."I didn't.Not a fucking word.
His eyes narrow."Repeat it back to me."
Shite.
"We're moving the shipment," I say, taking a guess."Thursday instead of Friday."
"Close.Wednesday.Try to keep up."
A few of the lads chuckle.I nod, jaw tight."Got it."
Raptor's watching me from across the table.He got that assessing look he gets when he's trying to figure out if someone's a liability.He doesn't say anything, but I can feel his judgment.Can feel him cataloguing my distraction for later.
Church wraps up eventually.I'm the first one out, needing air, needing space.I head outside and light a cigarette even though I quit months ago.I found a pack in my jacket pocket, probably left over from some party.The first drag burns my lungs and makes me cough, but I keep smoking anyway.
Punishment, maybe.
Rush follows me out and leans against the wall beside me.He doesn't speak.Just stands there, solid and steady, waiting.
"I fucked up," I say finally.
"Yeah?"
"Called a woman the wrong name.During—" I stop, unable to finish the sentence.
Rush winces."Christ."
"Yeah."
"Whose name did you say?"
"Ex.From years ago.I haven't thought about her in—" I take another drag."Doesn't matter.I said it.She kicked me out.End of story."
"You apologize?"
"I tried.She didn't want to hear it."
