Wind Therapy - A.J. Downey Page 0,63

get that settled first. All in favor of accepting Derry into our ranks?”

Every hand went up and I nodded.

“So ordered, go on and get him in here.”

Major popped up out of his seat and stuck his head out, looking up the hall.

“Hey Derry, leave your phone out there and come on in, okay?”

“Ho, yup!”

We listened to Derry heave himself up and the clatter of his phone hitting the bar.

“Watch this,” Glass Jaw whispered loudly and snickered. I laughed lightly and we all schooled our faces into neutral expressions for the gag.

Derry came in and froze inside the door as we all looked at him.

“Why do I suddenly feel like a fuckin’ prospect?” he demanded, and we all started losing our shit before Glass could even say whatever it was, he was going to say.

“Fuck, man. You ruined the gag,” Glass said, wiping tears.

“Yeah, we voted. You’re good, bro. Take a seat.”

Derry laughed and shook his head. “Man, you almost had me,” he said.

“Right, I don’t know about you all, but I’m tired as fuck so let’s get on with it…”

I went over the decisions regarding Eastern Washington and the plan. Everyone listened intently and there were nods. A few of those nods were accompanied by grim looks.

“We know who, yet?” Dump Truck asked.

“Some,” I said. “The rest remain yet to be seen.”

I went over who I knew would be moving in to take care of things next door and who I knew they were thinking about but had yet to confirm.

“Sounds like the bottom line is we’re gonna be picking up the slack for a while,” Deacon said.

I nodded.

“That is true.”

“This can’t be the reason you’re back so damn early, though,” Dump Truck said sagely.

I shook my head.

“Now that is personal,” I declared, and everyone stopped everything. I mean, some of the fellas stopped mid-chew.

“Ain’t nothing ever personal with you,” Major said, tucking some of his dreads back.

“This time, it is…” Glass Jaw looked grim.

“What’s going on?” Deacon asked, leaning back in his seat and I felt like shit, I really did, but I sat there and chose club over my woman once again and betrayed her all over. I told them her story.

Chapter Eighteen

Marisol…

“Hey, you hungry?” Little Bird shook my shoulder and I startled awake. She held out a paper wrapped something that smelled divine. I had been about to wave her off and tell her ‘no’ until the smell hit me. I quickly changed my mind and pushed myself up into a sitting position.

“Mm, thank you.”

“No problem.”

Inside was the most amazing Italian sub sandwich I had ever put in my face. I looked up at Kestrel, eyes wide and cocked my head.

“Where did this come from?” I asked around my mouthful of food.

She laughed and pointed at the front door saying, “White Center Pizza and Spaghetti House. It’s right out the front door, across the parking lot on the other side of 16th. Best Italian food I’ve ever had, and I don’t think we’ve ever actually gotten the pizza from there. We always get the lasagna or the grinders.”

“What’s a grinder?” I asked, swallowing the bite of my sub.

She laughed and said, “You’re eating one.”

“Why do they call them that?” I wondered.

“Beats me. I said the same thing. It’s a toasted sub.”

I stopped and asked quietly, “How long have they been in there?”

“Awhile,” she said and searched my face. “Derry went back almost an hour ago. You were out and I didn’t want to wake you, but I promised Mav I would make sure you got something to eat.”

“Thanks,” I murmured and sighed heavily.

“I remember that feeling,” she said.

“What feeling?”

“The weight of knowing they’re in there talking about you. Not knowing what’s going to happen, not knowing what they’re saying…”

I barked a bitter laugh and shook my head, my appetite fleeing.

“I know what they’re saying,” I told her. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, though.”

“Whatever it is,” she said putting her hand over mine, “it’s going to be okay.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

She hesitated and I smiled, knowing it was brittle with jagged edges, but Lord knows, I had never been able to deliver my face from evil. Just about everything I thought was broadcast there, especially when I was this tired.

“No, it’s not like that!” she cried.

“Like what?”

“It’s not you… it’s me.”

I laughed slightly but the alarmed look on her face wiped the smile right off mine. We sat in silence searching each other’s faces with caution and I said, “You’re going to have to