“Yeah, sure.” I’m uncertain about leaving her like this. I’m not sure her state of mind is right to be left all alone to dwell on things. What can I do, though? I can’t force her to come with me. If I try to cajole her, I risk her shutting down further. With a jolt, I realize I genuinely care about her.
With a soft sigh, I offer her a smile. “I’ll come back later for sure to check on you.”
My own appetite is now gone after seeing how sad Camile is, and I need to talk with Jack, both about our rival gang issue, but also about the fact that he’s not seeing sense on Camile. Breakfast forgotten, I stalk over to the house he’s commandeered as his own and bang on the door with my fist.
It jerks open almost immediately, and I see he’s about to head out. He’s got his cut on, and he’s looking mighty pissed.
“What is it, Ace? I’m busy.”
I forget about the Revenants for a moment, my anger at him bubbling to the fore. “You’re going to make that girl sick.”
“What?” His brow creases while he looks at me as if I’ve grown another head.
“Camile, you’re making her sad, leaving her all isolated in that house. When she’s lost everything. Imagine if it was your daughter in this position.”
I realize immediately that it was the wrong thing to say.
“Ace, if it was my daughter, you’d be six feet under right now, with your balls in your mouth for what you did to Camile in the fucking hayloft.”
Yikes, that’s an image and a half he just painted for me.
“What I mean is, you wouldn’t want Vani to be all alone, dealing with this shit.”
He folds his arms across his massive chest, as though reminding me of his size should also send a reminder to me about his seniority.
“I’ll send one of the ol’ ladies to see Camile later. I get what you’re saying, but you men all sniffing around her like she’s nothing but fresh meat isn’t helping her any. And I don’t have fucking time for this, Ace, so move out of the way.”
Not wanting him to squash me, I step to one side. He pulls the door shut behind him and shoulders me as he passes.
“We need to talk about the Revenants, too.” I jog to keep up with him as he strides on long legs away from me.
“Yes, we do. I’m calling a meeting, just me, you, Saul, and Ghost.” He stops and stares at me. “What the fuck is wrong with your ear?”
“Snapping turtle.”
“What, now?”
“A snapping turtle bit it.”
With such extreme patience that I can tell he really wants to murder me, he says, “Where is this turtle now?”
“In the barn. Not up in the hayloft, though. It’s got its own place, at the back, on the big shelf that runs the rear end of the building.”
“And what is this turtle living in right now?”
“A big old ceramic planter.”
“Hhhmm.”
He says nothing else, but his lips twitch, and I think itmight be amusement. Or perhaps it’s the sort of lip twitch a man does right before he throttles someone to death? I can’t quite tell.
“Why?” I dare ask.
“Snapping turtles need a lot of water. A lot of space, and a fuck ton of filtration.” He narrows his eyes at me.
Wait, what? How does he know all of this? Is he a secret reptile keeper? Is a turtle even a reptile?
He sighs. “My old man used to keep turtles.”
