CHAPTER SIX
For the rest of the day, Badger felt Adrienne’s mouth on his lips. He thought he could still taste her. It was the first day that the need wasn’t on him so hard he’d almost been ready to give his kutte up to sate it. He knew he wasn’t through his trouble; he knew he’d feel that need for a long time, maybe forever. But on this day, after seeing Adrienne and finding the spine to just be straight with her and tell her what he wanted, after finding out that she still wanted it, too—on this day, he did okay. And that was a lot.
While he was still watching her pretty little ass as she walked to her car, he’d known that he was going to have to face Show right away. They couldn’t be ‘private’—they couldn’t sneak. He was working to make his brothers trust him again, and that was the wrong way to start. He didn’t know how much more his face could take, but he’d go to Show tomorrow, when they got back from the weed run, after the debrief in the Keep. And he’d tell him straight. And then he’d take his lumps, and hopefully he’d still be breathing afterward.
But tonight, he wasn’t going to worry about that. He didn’t know how far she’d want to go, and he didn’t know how far he’d try to go. Maybe they just needed a night like others they’d had—watching scary movies, eating pizza, him happy with the feel of her hiding against his arm during the scary parts. Or, during the really scary parts, hiding against his chest.
No. Shit. Not that. Shit.
He couldn’t let her see him. Or touch him. He couldn’t take that. God, if she turned away from him in disgust…
So what the fuck was he doing?
You don’t walk away from someone you love. Ever. Len was in Badger’s head again. He was kind of a nag. Badger stood in the middle of the barn, trying to work through the anxiety and need that had dropped on his head all at once. The animals were put up for the night. Weasel had already done his compulsive circling around his bed and settled in, nose at the door, pointing out toward his charges. It was time to go up to Adrienne’s room. And now he didn’t know if he could.
Fuck it. He was going up. He went into his office and shrugged off his kutte. Then he opened the top drawer of the file cabinet he’d been using as a dresser and pulled out two clean t-shirts. After he pulled them both on over the one he’d already been wearing, he put his kutte back on. He was off the clock and on private time, so he could have left the kutte off, but having gotten it back, he didn’t want it out of sight.
Three t-shirts should be enough. He’d just stay dressed. They’d take things slow. That was right anyway, and it would give him time to—to what? To get a chest transplant? To hope that she’d go blind—and numb? No. To figure it out. He needed time to figure out how to tell her, and how to deal with it if she couldn’t deal with it. He just needed time. A few hours ago, he didn’t think she’d ever talk to him again. He needed some time. They’d take things slow.
“Badge?”
At the sound of her voice, Badger went to the office doorway. She was standing just inside the main doors, holding a flat box. She was so fucking pretty. The late afternoon light shone through her long skirt just enough that he could see the silhouette of her legs. His cock stirred.
“Hey, you.” He had to raise his voice a little to carry the length of the aisle.
“Hey! I got the pizza—half macho meat and half veggie. Come up while it’s hot.”
“Right behind you. Five minutes.”
With a perky little nod, she turned, her skirt floating a little around her legs, and went off toward the main house.
~oOo~
Another thing he hadn’t thought out: there were no couches in the B&B rooms. They were just bedrooms—nice ones, but the only seating was a little chair at a little desk and one upholstered armchair.
So they sat on the bed. At first, it was fine. They sat up and ate pizza and drank soda and started Scream, a movie they’d watched together several times but that still managed to scare her. They’d developed at riff for it, and spent a lot of time talking back to the screen. She always shouted at Drew Barrymore in the first part and could never watch what happened to her.
This night was no different. Except that Badger couldn’t watch Drew Barrymore get gutted, either. Not until scant moments before that scene did it occur to him what was about to happen and how it resonated now in his head. His stomach rolled, but he held it together, staring down at the pizza still left in the box.
He hadn’t even seen what had happened to Havoc. He’d been unconscious. But he knew. He’d been told.
When it was over, Adrienne laughed. “I’m such a baby. That scene freaks me out more every time I see it.”
Badger shook it off and laughed with her. “Yeah. Total wuss. Want another piece of your grass pizza?”
“Totally. And my grass half is way better than your animal carcass half.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. You should come to the dark side.”
In that light, companionable mood, they ate and watched the movie. When it started to get more intense and they’d finished off about half the pie, Badge set it aside. He took off his boots and his kutte, and they sat together, side by side, against the headboard, their legs stretched out. Whenever somebody died or was chased, Adrienne grabbed his arm and hid her face against it, as she’d always done.
He’d always been turned on by it, but he’d always sat still and let her. He didn’t have to just sit there now. But he wasn’t sure if—he cut off that thought and thought instead of his three t-shirts. He could bring her closer.
He pulled his arm out of her grasp and up so he could put it around her shoulders instead. “Come here, wuss. I’ll keep you safe from the big, bad, pretend monsters.” As soon as his arm was no longer between them, she snuggled close to his chest and put her arm around his waist. His cock went hard, totally, painfully hard, and he looked down to see how obvious that was.
Pretty obvious.
But she didn’t seem to notice. And then Neve Campbell and Skeet Ulrich were making out, and Adrienne’s hand slid under his shirt. Shirts. He could feel her realizing that he was wearing multiple t-shirts, looking for the end of them, and he put his hand around hers and stopped her.
She sat up, the movie suddenly forgotten, and looked at him. “I don’t want to watch the movie, Badge.” She pulled her hand from his and went for his shirts again.
And again, he stopped her. “Wait. Adrienne, wait.”
“No. I know what you don’t want me to see. I saw. It’s okay.”
“What?” He pushed her away and sat all the way up. “What do you mean?”
“At the clubhouse. That day. Your shirt got torn. I saw.”
His head did somersaults. He couldn’t think of anything to say, but now he wanted to leave. Right now.
As if she could hear his thoughts, she said, “Don’t go. It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. You don’t know. It’s not okay.”
Rising up on her knees before him, she leaned in and kissed him. His heart thumped once, hard, and then resumed its usual rhythm. When she leaned back, she did something astonishing.
She pulled her top over her head. She was wearing a plain, light pink bra. Satin—it shone a little in the ambient light of the room. “Me first, then.”
Nothing in the whole world was as beautiful as Adrienne was. Her wild hair cascading over her shoulders, her slim, small body, little round tits wrapped in pink satin. Freckles lightly dusted her chest and shoulders, fading out as they approached her little tits. No, not tits—it sounded wrong to use that word to describe her. Cheap. Jerri Rae had tits. Adrienne had breasts. Her stomach was flat and fair, with a subtle indentation down the middle, like an arrow pointing to the delights of her chest. He swallowed, and his dry throat made a rough, stuck sound. So badly he wanted to touch her, to feel the silk of her skin. To taste her.
In a million lifetimes, he could not allow the corruption that was his own body anywhere near the perfection that was hers. Her top was still in her hand; he took it from her, turned it right-side-out, and handed it back. “No. You should put this back on.”
Hurt bolted through her eyes. She sat back on her heels and took her top, holding it over her chest like a shield. “Badge, please. Don’t say that.”
“You’re beautiful, Adrienne. God. You’re so perfect. I can’t—you don’t want—you don’t know.”
“Badger. Pretty much the only thing I know that I want in my whole life right now is you. I know what’s under your shirt. It’s okay. I promise it’s okay. Trust me.”
Her last plea is what settled him. Trust was almost all he’d been thinking about since he’d been able to think clearly again. How to become trustworthy. How to trust. What trust even was. He got off the bed and stood, his back to her.
“No! Badger—”
“Just wait.” He grasped the hems of his shirts in his fists and took a deep breath, deep enough that he felt the blasted pull of skin and scar tissue fighting each other. He pulled the cotton in triplicate over his head and tossed it away. And then he was stuck. He looked down at his bare chest and couldn’t turn around.
The bed squeaked softly, and he felt Adrienne’s small, soft hands on his back. She was standing behind him. She pulled the band from his ponytail and combed his hair out. He closed his eyes at the gentle tug of her fingers through his long hair, and the light, tickling touch of her little nails on his skin. With a sweep of her hand, she pushed his hair over his shoulder, and then she caressed his back and shoulders, kneading gently. He groaned—it had been months since he’d been touched in this way, his bare skin. And really, he’d never been touched like this. Not ever.
She kissed the middle of his back. “Your back is beautiful, Badge. You shoulders are broad and strong. You’re so strong.” Her hands slid over his waist and pressed them flat to his belly. Only inches from the horror, which began not far above his navel.
He could feel the satin of her bra, and the swell of her breasts, against his back.
“Turn around, Badge. Please. Trust me.”
He turned around, his eyes closed.
They opened at the strident sound of her gasp, and he saw her hand over her mouth.
“Fuck. Fuck. I’m sorry.” He stepped back quickly, out of her reach, and bent to grab his shirts and get the fuck out. He needed to get out. Get out. Out.
“No wait—Badger, wait. I’m not—I’m not scared. I’m just—I’m sad. I’m so sad for you. I can’t think of how that must have hurt. Please don’t go.” She was crying.
Fuck! Everything was wrong. He would never have anything like this, like her. Ever.
But then she grabbed his arm. “Don’t go. Please.”
“You deserve more than this. Than me.”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she reached back, unhooked her bra, and drew it from her shoulders. While he was stunned to stillness by the mesmerizing beauty of her body, she stepped up close and rose up on her toes. She looped her arms around his neck, pressing herself tightly to his body, her perfect skin on his deformity. She laid her cheek on his chest.
In the background, somebody on the television screamed.
He brought his hands to hook around her sides, over her ribs, intending to push her off. But she felt so good. He couldn’t feel the press of her body against his scar, not the swell of her breasts on him, but still he could feel her everywhere else. He could feel her inside, making his heart thump. She turned her head and kissed his chest.
“Adrienne.” The break in his nose compounded by the turmoil in his heart made his voice sound gruff and strange to his own ears, almost mechanic.
She tipped her head back and looked up at him. Her hair swayed softly and brushed over his hands.
She’d seen the worst of him—body and soul, she’d seen the worst. And what he saw in her vivid blue eyes was not fear or revulsion. He recognized exactly what he saw.
“Adrienne, I love you.”
Her smile was sweet and sincere. “I love you, too.”
As he bent down to kiss her, he slid his hands down her sides and over her hips, clutching her thighs and pulling her up off the ground. Without hesitation, she circled his hips with her legs, the flowing skirt she still wore wrapping around them both. He walked back to the bed.
Putting his knee on the mattress, he laid her down and followed right after to lie over her, shifting a little to the side so that he wouldn’t crush her, and so he could touch her. When his hand came around and cupped her breast—small in his palm, but pert, tipped with a pink nipple standing erect—she arched way up, pushing herself hard into his hand, and she tore her mouth from his with a cry.
“Wait!” Her word was nothing but a breath.
At once, he moved his hand from her and pushed it instead into the mattress, propping himself up farther, lifting his wrecked chest completely away. “I’ll stop. I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t stop. I just need to go a little slower, okay? My head is…” She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. Just slower. But not stopping.”
The movie was over and had started playing the menu screen on a loop. Badger reached over for the remote and turned it off. “Okay. Slow as you want. Are you okay?”
“I’m with you. So yeah.” She brought her hands to his head and combed his hair out so that it draped around them, closing them off. He leaned down and kissed her, moving his hand to rest on her hip. Her hipbone was sharp on his palm.
Kissing Adrienne made his chest hurt in a wonderful way. Her tongue was small and silky, and she was not shy at all. She sucked and nipped and licked, making sweet little sounds as if she thought he was delicious. And she definitely was. He wanted to taste all of her. So he finally tore himself away from her pretty mouth. He kissed the dimple in her chin and then worked his way along her jawline and down her neck. She smelled and tasted perfect. Not like flowers or fruit. Just like her, but it was perfect. And so much of her skin was touching him.
Never before had he felt like this. He’d lost his virginity in the clubhouse. He’d never been with anybody but club girls. Adrienne was the only civilian he’d ever kissed, and, until tonight, he’d never done more than kiss her. He’d never even kissed her anywhere but her lips. And now she was under him, her breath so heavy that every inhale brought her tighter to him, her hands clutching at his shoulders. It was as if she had forgotten what he looked like, as if it really didn’t matter. He didn’t know if he could stand to go slow for much longer.
Needing more touch, he moved his hand carefully back to her breast and held it again. Again, she arched into his palm, but this time she didn’t cry out. This time, she moaned and flexed her hips, still covered in yards of skirt. She ground lightly against his thigh, and he had to stop and rest his forehead on her collarbone for a second. When he brushed his thumb over the hard little pebble of her nipple, she jumped and whimpered, and he had to taste her.
He moved down, kissing and licking over her collarbone and her shoulder, brushing his beard lightly over the tender skin at the join of her arm and her chest until she squirmed. The experience of her supple body writhing against him, in his hands, was indescribable. His cock strained inside his jeans, and he flexed his hips against her thigh.
In response, her leg slid between his and pressed hard to his groin, and he thought he’d die. Then he took her breast into his mouth, and he was sure of it.
She moaned and hugged her arms around his head, holding him where he was, his mouth on her, drawing her nipple against his tongue. Now their hips were flexing together, grinding on each other, and fuck, he was going to lose it in his jeans. He released her breast with a grunt and pushed up, then dropped his head to her chest, breathless.
He’d wanted to go slow, to treat her right. To take care. To prepare her for who he was now. To make her ready for his horror. But she’d seen it, his darkness inside and out, and she’d writhed against him, her body moving so hard on his that he could feel her on his dead chest. Now he felt her heartbeat thrum rapidly on his forehead, and he said quietly, “Adrienne, if we don’t stop now, I don’t think I’ll be able to.”
Her hands came to his face, sliding into his beard, and she lifted his head and looked hard into his eyes. “We’re not stopping. We’re tired of stopping, remember?”
“I hurt you.” He brushed her lower lip, still bearing the mark of the worst thing he’d ever done. “How can you trust me?”
“I know you, Badge. I love you. It wasn’t you that hit me. You’re not going to use again, are you?”
“I don’t want to. I’m afraid to promise, though. I still want it.” Actually, this was the first time he’d thought about it in hours, and the thought didn’t come with the need.
She tucked his hair behind his ear. “Well, I trust you. And I’ll help you.”
He felt lucky. Blessed, even. That was almost funny. He kissed her again, deeply, tasting all of her, and moved his hand into the waistband of her skirt. It was snug, and he looked for an opening. Smiling on his mouth, she put her hands between them and untied a drawstring, then wriggled out of her skirt and panties. He helped, pulling the fabric down and away, and there she was, totally naked under him.
So beautiful. So perfect. He pulled away to watch his hand move over her hip, down her thigh, and then back up, moving over and between. At the peak of her thighs was a small triangle of amber hair, trimmed short. As he watched his hand nearing that lovely sight, he realized that she was trembling. He looked back up and met her eyes. “Adrienne?”
“Not stopping, remember?” She smiled, but she looked scared.
“I don’t want to do anything you don’t want.”
“Then don’t stop. I want to feel you. Inside.”
“Fuck, I want that, too. Hold on.”
Pushing off the bed and ignoring the burn in his chest as he did so, Badger stood and took off his jeans and boxers, grabbing a condom from his pocket before he tossed his jeans aside. Her eyes flared when he stood naked at the side of the bed and rolled the condom on. As he circled her ankles and pulled her legs wide so that he could kneel between them, she scooted away—just an inch or two—and whispered, “Um. Wait. Wait, wait.”
Kneeling, his hands on either side of her hips, he stopped. “Okay. Okay?”
She stared down between them. “Yeah—just…yeah. Okay.”
“Not stopping?”
“Not stopping. But slow.”
Thus assured, he slid his hand under her little ass, cupping a whole cheek in one hand. He took hold of himself with the other and pushed gently against her folds. Even through the latex, he could feel how wet she was. He could see it, too, in the darkening of the light spray of hair at her entrance. He wanted to touch her more, but she wanted this, and so did he. He pushed in, gently, slowly.
Jesus God, she was tight. Club girls, even new club girls, weren’t tight like this. He felt her body resisting him even as her eyelids fluttered shut and her neck arched gracefully upward. He pushed, working hard to be slow and steady, though the stimulation of her powerfully tight sheath was making him crazy, and then thought he felt real resistance. An actual barrier. He opened eyes he hadn’t known he’d closed and saw her biting down on her lip, her brow knitted. With pain?
Holy. Fucking. Shit. He pulled out in a hurry.
“Adrienne!”
A bright, fiery blush suffused her face and chest, and she opened her eyes. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I should have said. Please don’t stop.”
“You’re—you’re a—you never—” Confounded by shock and arousal, his brain would not form a sentence.
“I’m so sorry. I suck.”
Reaching for calm with a deep breath, Badger rolled to sit at her side, his solid cock sticking up stupidly. “No, you don’t. But how…I don’t understand. You’re twenty-four. You’ve had boyfriends. That Patrick guy.” He hated that guy. He’d made Adrienne cry. A lot. Which had sucked for so many reasons.
“I know. I suck. It’s so lame.”
“Stop, Adrienne. It’s not. And you don’t. I’m just surprised.” Shocked, more like. “Why haven’t you?”
She didn’t answer. Instead she closed her eyes and then, for an extra layer of protection, threw her arm over them. Suddenly, she seemed very young to him.
“Adrienne.” He pulled on her arm. “Talk to me.”
Peeking out from under her elbow, she said, “Don’t freak out, okay?”
He just raised his eyebrows. He was plenty freaked already. This was the girl who’d made every move between them for years. Including tonight.
“You.”
“What?”
“Nobody else measures up. I’ve never found anybody I wanted to be with like that. Just you.”
He laughed.
“Don’t laugh at me!”
“I’m not. It’s just—me? I’m nothing special. Especially now.”
She propped herself up on her elbows, which made her little breasts, still erect with arousal, point right at him. Distracting. “You really don’t see how awesome you are, do you? Do you want me to make a list? Because I’ve made a list. Every time I get dumped because I won’t give a guy what he wants, I wonder why I won’t, what it is that’s so special about you, when you didn’t want me the same way. You want the list?”
“No, I really don’t.”
“Well, it’s long. You’re awesome. And I want you to be my first. Hopefully my only.”
Shock and something else—elation?—rocketed through his cells, and he felt his eyes widen.
She put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, God. That last part shouldn’t have come out. Just ignore that part.”
“No. I’m not ignoring that part. No way.” He rolled back over and kissed her, wishing he could etch her words on their lips, and led himself back into her.
This time, when he got deep enough to feel that thing that said she’d been his for so much longer than he’d ever known, he paused and looked down. Her eyes were closed, and her body was tense. “Adrienne, look at me.” She did as he said.
It was so strange for him to feel experienced. To feel like the guide, to have the lead. The effect was potent and profoundly arousing.
“I’ve heard it hurts the first time. You don’t want me to stop?”
She shook her head, her eyes not leaving his.
“If it does, it’s the last time I’ll ever hurt you. That I will promise.” He pushed harder than he had before, pushed through and felt something give. Her face twisted a little, and she whimpered. “I’m sorry, babe.”
At his words, her expression smoothed, and she looked into his eyes as he pushed in as far as he could.
She was the best thing he’d ever felt in his life. The best thing he could imagine ever feeling. He held, deep inside her, need cramping his muscles, but he waited until he could feel her body relax. When she moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist, he knew she was okay. And then he began to move.
At first, she was mostly still, her eyes intent on his, letting him move for them both. But just as he was worried that he wouldn’t be able to hold out long enough to get her over, just as he thought the tight, milking pressure of her body around his was going to drive him out of his head, the look in her eyes changed. Her breath did, too; it became heavier, erratic. Louder. Then she began to whimper with every exhale, and he knew she’d started to climb.
Club girls always came, no matter what, but they made big productions out of it, like they thought there was a camera in the room somewhere. For all Badger knew, he’d never really gotten a girl off. He’d tried. He knew some of the other guys didn’t bother, but he’d always thought sex in the clubhouse made a pretty decent education, if a guy wanted it. The only thing he hadn’t done with the club girls was oral—him on them, that is—because a lot of his brothers had been there, and that just seemed, well, gross.
So he thought he knew what a girl was like when she came—or, at least, what girls thought they should be like when they came. What Adrienne was doing under him was different. She was much more quiet, but what was happening to her was so obviously real that it was vastly sexier than anything he’d ever done with any other girl.
So sexy that he wasn’t going to be able to hang. Desperate to make this good for her, to be worth what she’d forgone for him, he moved his hand between their flexing bodies and found her clit. At his contact, she cried out and lifted her shoulders off the bed, and he felt her get suddenly much wetter—not that she’d been dry before. Thrusting faster, getting almost to the point of no return himself, his thumb working her clit, sliding over her wet flesh, he tucked his head against her neck.
“Badge! God, Badge! Ohohoh! OH!” Her nails sank into his shoulders as her body froze hard, and he felt her throb around him. That amazing, astounding feeling blasted the last of his control, and he came, groaning into her neck.
As they relaxed, her pulled out of her, wincing with her when she sucked in a breath.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. More than okay. That was perfect.” She laughed. “Give me a few minutes, then I think I want to do more of that.”
“I’m definitely in for more.” Grinning, Badger reached down for the condom. He checked it first—only a slight pink tinge. He pulled it off and sat up, looking for the trash. As he tied off the top and discarded it, a thought occurred to him, and that happy grin faded. He looked over his shoulder at Adrienne, who was lying unabashed in her nudity, beautiful and relaxed.
“Does Show know you’re—were—a virgin?”
She shook her head. “Not something I talk about.”
Well, that was a relief. Maybe he would survive the beating he was headed for tomorrow. Though his nose probably wouldn’t. But that was a concern for the next day. Now, he lay at Adrienne’s side, his hand on her belly, and let himself feel good. When she lifted her hand and brushed it over his ruined chest, he closed his eyes and let her, pushing hard at the dark thoughts battling to get in.
And this time, he beat them back. This time, he won.
~oOo~
When Isaac, Show, Len, and Tommy returned from the weed run, Dom, Zeke and Badger were waiting in the Hall. Badger was nervous; it was his first meeting since his detox, and after this, he was going to tell Show that he and Adrienne were together. And then…Christ. Who knew.
Isaac walked straight through the Hall and into the Keep, and the rest of the Horde fell in line to follow him. When they were all seated, Isaac put his elbows on the table and leaned in.
“Run went smooth—smooth as that bullshit can go. We picked up a tail when we crossed the county line. That’s the third time in a row. Don’t know what Seaver is up to with his games, but for now, we play it as safe and smart as we can.”
“He’s gotta know there’s a front end to that run,” Show added. “He could fuck us hard if he pulled us over on our way out. He’s gotta know that.”
“He’d need a warrant, or at least probable cause, to search the truck.” As Badger spoke, Show turned an icy look on him. It might have been a mistake for him to correct something Show had said.
But Isaac answered. “That’s why we’re bein’ Boy Scouts, obeying all posted laws and limits. But we’re on borrowed time. He’s got something cookin’. Just don’t know what.” He turned to Dom. “You got anything new, brother?”
“Nothing we can use. There hasn’t been any more between Seaver and the St. Louis Feds since my last update. I don’t know if the Feds dropped him or what. Otherwise, I got a shit ton of him being an asshole, all kinds of creepy, racist emails, and he’s got a thing for rape jokes, but nothing outright corrupt that I can find. It’s there. But he’s smart. If he does announce a campaign for Washington, D.C., then we can threaten to leak the emails, but until then, I don’t see what I’ve got hurting him enough.”
Show nodded. “Yeah, we’ve had that conversation.” They’d been looking for leverage against Sheriff Seaver for a year, something to bring him into their camp or at least neutralize him. His image was squeaky clean, a total Dudley Do-Right, and he looked the part, his uniform always pressed and perfect, his hair military short. But he had a nasty streak, and behind the scenes was not so interested in doing things the right way. He was exploring his options for a run for the House of Representatives, and it looked like he was planning to use the Horde to get there.
“We’re stuck on Seaver. Nothin’ to do but wait and watch. Same with the Perros. We got no movement there yet, but Hoosier hit me up on the run last night. The Scorps LA are working something. Don’t have details, but he wants us on alert.”
Len sighed. “When are we not anymore?”
Isaac shrugged. “Yeah. Anyway. What we can do something about is the town. Things are getting worse for us. Billy Knox and his buddies thinking they’d get away with jumping Badge at Tuck’s wasn’t the first sign.”
Everybody looked at Badger, and he focused on not dropping his head. He kept his eyes on Isaac and waited for him to continue.
“Glad to have you back, Badge.”
“Thanks, boss.” He looked around the table. “And I’m sorry. For everything.”
His brothers nodded, and Len squeezed his shoulder.
“Keep straight, little brother,” Isaac said. “And don’t shut us out.”
Badger nodded. He didn’t mind the ‘little brother’ so much anymore. At least he was still a brother.
“What do we do about the town?” Len’s hand left Badger’s shoulder as he turned to Isaac.
Show picked up the discussion. “Goodwill campaign. As long as the Perros are quiet, we can use the time to focus people on the good we’ve done. The good we do. We work our straight jobs as much as we can. People need to see us fixing their tractors. Selling them chainsaws. Whatever. And the Spring Fest is coming up in a few weeks. We’re all there. And we’re all smiling. No questions.”
“And when the Perros aren’t quiet?”
Isaac sat back and considered Len. “We cross that bridge then. We do what we can to keep their noise away from home. And we wait for our chance.”
~oOo~
“Show. Talk a minute?”
They were all heading to the bar after the meeting. Badger wasn’t sure he wanted to have this conversation with an audience, but having it without one seemed particularly dangerous.
Show didn’t even turn at Badger’s question. “Not interested.”
But they needed to talk. Badger reached out and grabbed Show’s arm. Fuck, it was a big arm. A death machine of an arm. And when Show looked down at Badger’s hand, it was clear that the machine was revving.
“It’s important.” He gestured to the small two-top table nearby. “I’ll buy you a beer.”
While Show stared, Badger fought to stay steady. He managed, and finally Show yanked his arm away and sat. Badger got Davey to draw two beers from the tap and then went to sit.
Show didn’t touch his beer, so Badger didn’t, either.
“Talk.” Show’s fists rested on the table.
Might as well put it right out there. “I want to tell you the truth. I want to be straight with you, be worthy of your trust again. I told you how I feel about Adrienne. She feels the same way about me.”
Those canned hams at the ends of Show’s arms curled tight, but he didn’t move otherwise. Badger kept going. He could hear the talk at the bar slow and then stop; they had an actual audience.
“I love her, Show. I really do. We’re…we’re together. I know you don’t want it, and I don’t blame you. But I promise I’ll be good to her. I swear it.” He stopped, swallowed, and waited.
Nothing happened, except Show’s knuckles went white, the scars over them raising up. But he didn’t say a word. His expression didn’t change from its original contemptuous heat. Badger waited, as motionless as Show.
And then Show was on his feet, and the table that had separated them was sailing through the room. Next, Badger was on the floor, on his back but still sort of sitting in the chair, and Show’s hand was around his throat, squeezing with obvious intent to kill.
“What did I tell you, motherfucker?” The words scraped through Show’s clenched teeth. He cocked his other fist back. Badger didn’t fight.
“Showdown! Step back, brother.” Through the thunderous pound of his heartbeat in his ears, Badger heard Isaac’s voice. “Now, Show. Right now.”
And Badger was released. Len helped him up, as Tommy and Isaac pulled Show back.
Len straightened his kutte and gave him a light cuff on the chin. “Shake it off, little brother. Then get on out of here. You’re okay. You did good. You did right. Gonna take some time. But you did right.”
Badger hoped that was true.