pushing sixty, they’ve all got killing on their minds. Bronco comfortably plays the family man, but he can turn off every good thing inside him and slaughter anyone in his way. I saw him take on three guys once. Strung out, I sat on my ass and watched him butcher my club brothers.
Then he pointed his gun at me. Three years later, I’m staring into the same eyes. I know what Bronco wants, and I have no qualms about bringing him the heads of John and Steph Marks.
Before Pixie, I thought I would do anything for Bronco. Now, I know I have a limit. He understands that, too. Soon, we’ll both see if my limit ends our three-year-long uneasy truce.
PIXIE
Mama gets frustrated by shopping on the computer. There are too many choices. She tells Topanga how spending money on new clothes and furniture is wasteful when we need so little to survive.
Topanga is a lot like Mama in that she refuses to be told no. She also sees a problem and immediately wants to fix it.
Like how the Village’s horn signals a coming together for that community, Topanga’s phone alerts the Woodlands’ women how we need donations.
For the next hour, people arrive with boxes filled with clothes, toys, and beauty stuff I don’t know how to use. There’s even a cage bed for Future to sleep in at night.
We stick the boxes in a front room that Anders has no use for. Actually, I think most of this house is unnecessary.
“I don’t know what to do with all this,” I tell Topanga as the doorbell rings again.
“We’ll organize everything by groups and figure out what you want. Whatever you don’t need, I’ll donate.”
I stand next to Topanga, overwhelmed by the constant doorbell ringing and all the boxes. I don’t understand what a lot of the stuff is used for, and I wish the house was quiet. Anders should come home, and we can watch the Indiana Jones movie. Then we can sleep. Too much is happening far too fast.
Mama finally picks up Future and takes Dove’s hand. She gestures for me to follow her into Anders’s bedroom, where she shuts all the doors. We crouch in the large closet with all his giant clothes.
“I think these people will be the end of us,” Mama says, wincing at the pain from her eye.
Despite my fatigue, I ask, “Don’t you like it here?”
“Anders is your grand sequoia, and he kept us from starving. Those are good things, but you are no miracle worker, Pixie.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Yes, you do,” Mama says, frowning until she remembers her bruised eye. “The man is broken inside. He expects you to fix him. How can you do that?”
“I’ll give him love like you give me.”
“It’s not enough. He lives in this big house. I heard those women say how the house is just like his leader’s house. Anders isn’t a man. He’s a shell. Someone broke him long ago. He’s lost, but you can’t be his anchor.”
“I can try,” I insist, refusing to give up on him. “Anders is sweet to me. He’s so big and strong. I know his heart was broken, and he says no one ever loved him. But he poops normal. That’s better than John Marks.”
“Pixie.”
“Mama.”
Sighing at how I’m no longer a child quick to obey her, she explains, “Weakness is a disease that eats up the good in people. I don’t want you to be scared and fragile. But I can’t support you taking on a man like Anders. I see his sad eyes, and I know he cares for you. But he’s filled with darkness. Though I hope he finds peace.”
“But?”
“But if he loses control of his huge body one time and lashes out, you might not survive. He’s like a demon gun. It only needs one shot to take a life.”
Nearby, Dove begins to cry. I assume she’s remembering Papa, but she looks at our mother and whimpers, “You’re going to make him hate us. Then we’ll have to go back.”
“The Village is our home,” Mama says, reaching for my sister’s hand. “Not a great home, but a good one until John Marks.”
“There’s not enough sun,” Dove whimpers.
Future stops looking at his three blocks, sees Dove is crying, and decides he should too.
“This is why I was whispering,” Mama scolds me as she cradles the boy in her arms.
I crawl over to Dove, hugging her against me. “Your whispers are too loud.”