Bronco clears his throat. “First, we attempt to draw out the Killing Joes. Once they’re dead or we’re certain they’ve bailed on Marks, we hit the Village.”
My club brothers nod, approving the idea of attacking the enemy. But none are ready for dead kids. I know that much. If we hit the Village too fast or hard and kids die or cry next to their dead mothers, the men in the Executioners will struggle with their choice to attack.
I know I will. Back with the Killing Joes, I likely did horrible things. Those memories can’t haunt me, though. My mind was too far gone to remember my sins. But I no longer enjoy such a luxury. If I accidentally put a bullet in a child, I’ll never be able to shrug it off as an accident or the cost of war.
PIXIE
For a long time, Anders owned my thoughts, even if I only saw him every few days. Occasionally, we went a week without meeting. Now in his house, I should be able to enjoy his company. Except people and circumstances keep pulling us apart.
“I have to go out,” he said earlier while changing clothes. “I’ll be at Bronco’s. It’s two blocks away. If you need me, I can get back fast.”
Anders handed me a phone as he prepared to leave the bedroom. I tugged hard on his hand, making him stop. Despite his frown, I maneuvered him closer to the bed. Then I climbed on the mattress, using its height to hold him against me.
“I love you,” I said, stroking his head. “You are special. Your heart is filled with sunshine, and I want it to belong to me.”
Anders’s tension faded, and he looked up at me. “I’m glad you’re here. It drove me crazy not knowing if you were safe.”
I ran my fingers over his forehead before kissing the tanned flesh. His arms wrapped around me. My lips pressed against his, careful to avoid encouraging his sexual urges. Walking around with an erect penis-cock seemed distracting.
But Anders still deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue against mine, wanting more. His fingers gripped my thighs, tugging them apart and demanding what he knew he couldn’t have.
“When you come home,” I said once my lips were free.
“We can be quick,” he muttered and then shook his head as if coming out of a trance. “When I come home.”
“No, when you come home, we’ll take our time,” I whispered, kissing his cheek. “How long will you be gone?”
Rather than enjoy thoughts of our future sexual fun, Anders started explaining how we might be attacked. He showed me all the security and a special room in the basement. He told me a lot of rules. Mama followed us, listening too. I hoped she remembered better than I did.
By the time Anders leaves the house, I understand to avoid answering the door and to stay inside with everything locked.
Yet, despite us hiding, my family is safe. Future naps in a chair while holding a block. Dove sits in another chair, looking outside rather than at the television. Mama relaxes on the same couch as me. We watch a show where three people cook very quickly before three other people judge the food. I like how sweaty the chefs get.
“Why didn’t you say more when those women browbeat me?” I ask Mama during a commercial.
“I’m trying not to feed my monster,” she says, holding her stomach. “This home is not what I imagined for my life. I don’t understand how things work here. But I want the gifts of my womb to have food and a warm bed. If I have to bite my tongue, I will do it.”
“But they were rude.”
“You’re no longer a child. You stood up to them. And, most importantly, you learned which of them would help you. My silence was a good thing.”
Reaching for her hand, I whisper, “You seem sad.”
“I couldn’t figure out how to feed my children,” Mama mumbles and waves at the stove. “If left up to me, we’d starve.”
“Three of us tried to figure it out, Mama.” When I recall how easy the solution turned out to be, I start giggling. “Three women couldn’t figure out how to push in the knob.”
Mama smiles before laughing behind her hand. Dove smiles nearby. We are so clueless in this world.
“I want us to be together,” Mama says, reaching over to hold Dove’s hand. “The Village was killing us, but I didn’t know where