Pike (The Pawn Duet #1) - T.M. Frazier Page 0,67
from the tray. “How did you fare in the storm? We’re okay, thanks for fucking asking.”
She shrugs. “I’m alive. My apartment is on the third floor, so we’re all good. But I wanted to come and check on you, and it turns out you look worse than the fucking roads do.” She takes a sip of her own coffee in reusable mug that says I HATE YOU. Thorne apparently has a theme today. “So, where was I?” she puts a finger to the corner of her lips. “Oh yeah, now I remember,” she slams her palms on my desk, rattling the coffee once again. “Mickey isn’t a racist.”
“The brand on her shoulder says otherwise,” I offer, wishing the weed would work faster so I could bury my confusion in my high instead of trying to find answers to questions that don’t make any fucking sense. “Besides, how would you fucking know?”
Thorne juts out her chin. “My grandfather was a Grand Dragon in the Klan.”
Nine sprays his coffee all over the floor. “Excuse me? Como say the fuck WHAT?”
Thorne rolls her eyes. “So dramatic,” she says, lowering herself in her chair. She pulls out her phone, and her thumbs fly over the screen. “Thankfully, the cell tower is still up. Ah, here we go.” She turns the screen to me, pointing to a picture of a man wearing a Klan robe and white witch-like hat. The standard uniform of ignorance. “This was him. My Popop. Loved us and hated pretty much everyone else.”
“So, your grandfather was a piece of shit, and that somehow doesn’t make Mickey a piece of shit?” Nine questions.
She rolls her eyes. “I grew up with the language of hate. The words. The propaganda. The feelings they try to instill in you. Hate is something that’s taught. It’s not something we instinctually have toward others. There wasn’t one-word Mickey spoke or action she took to make me believe she’s racist. I pick up on those things and trust me, she didn’t exhibit a single one of them. I was brought up and taught hate, but it never sunk in. I loved my Popop, but I never believed what he did. Not for one second. I think Mickey’s the same. She may wear the mark, but that’s exactly what it is. Just a mark. Something on the surface that only goes skin deep. Like a tattoo in Chinese letters that you think says love and light but really says ham sandwich.”
Nine laughs. “So what you’re saying is, just because she has ham sandwich tattooed on her body, doesn’t mean she loves ham sandwiches.” He scratches his head. “But everyone loves ham sandwiches. It’s a proven fact. Science and shit. Mickey would know. I’ll ask her.”
“Maybe, she’s a good actress?” I reply, wanting to feel anger more than hurt, looking for reasons to drag that anger from beneath the pain and use it to put my shield back in fucking place where it belongs.
Thorne shakes her head. “She’s been kind to Jo Jo even when Jo Jo wasn’t kind to her.” She pulls the necklace out from her shirt and holds up the pendant. It’s the Star of David. “When she saw this, she didn’t bat an eyelash.”
“Why do you wear a Star of David if your Popop was in the clan?”
“It’s my girlfriend’s. She gave it to me. The point is that hate is an agenda. Those fuckers are preachy. Whatever reason she has for being a part of the Fourth Reich has nothing to do with hatred of others.”
Something occurs to me. “Not of the racist kind, anyway.”
“What are you thinking?” Nine asks. We’re interrupted when his phone rings. He picks it up, pacing the room. “Hold on, I’ll put you on speaker,” he says, clicking a button and setting the phone down on the counter. “Go ahead, King.”
“Whoever is after me sent my daughter’s crazy biological mother after my kid during the storm. Almost killed my wife and both of my daughters,” King grates. “We took down several of their hired guns but none of them talked before they died except to say your fucking name, Pike. This shit ends, and it ends now. Find out who is behind this, and why they want to take you down and everyone else around you, then give me a fucking name. No one involved in this is left breathing, you understand me?”
Thorne gnashes her teeth and slips into the back room, and I wish I could go with her.
Nine