Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Micky and Rumi made small talk while we waited and our cousin Brody came and sat with us, but I was distracted. I was worried about what was happening around me and who had gone on the run that morning, but thoughts of Esther kept creeping back in.
How would I ever make sure she was alright if I couldn’t even ask about her? I couldn’t keep going to the garden center and I honestly didn’t even want to.
There wasn’t a single excuse I could use to stop by her house. I didn’t know where she shopped or hung out. It felt like I’d run head first into a brick wall. I thought about her cousin and immediately rejected any idea of asking for her help. That girl was all drama.
“Heads up,” Rumi murmured, jerking his head toward the bar as he let his chair tip forward onto four legs again.
I watched the group file out of church. It was impossible to read their expressions.
My grandpa put his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly, making the entire room fall silent.
“At about nine thirty this mornin’,” our president Dragon announced, not bothering to raise his voice. “Coupla vans ran Mack and Leo off the road.”
“What the fuck,” Micky breathed.
“Both of ’em are fine,” Dragon said, raising his hand to quiet the chatter that had started up at his news. “Homer was drivin’. They got him stopped somehow and beat the holy hell outta him.”
“At least they didn’t kill him,” Rumi said quietly.
“At least they didn’t kill him,” my dad said loudly from his place near the bar.
I was sure it was what we were all thinking, but it was pretty telling that my dad and Rumi had said the exact same thing. Two fucking peas in a pod.
“Casper’s already left to pick up the boys and get ’em back here,” Dragon continued. “But Homer’s gonna be a while, so Brenna’s gonna work out shifts for who’s at the hospital. Moose, Hulk, and the girls are headed up there now. There will be at least one member at the hospital with Homer until he’s released.”
The group nodded, almost as one. It went without saying. I couldn’t remember a single time when we’d had a member or someone’s family in the hospital without at least a couple Aces in the waiting room standing vigil.
“That said,” my grandpa chimed in gruffly. “We ain’t sittin’ around waitin’ for him to wake up and start talkin’. Someone had the balls to hijack one of our shipments and we need to find out who it was yesterday. You got any ideas, you come to me, and we’ll check it out. Put your ears to the ground, check in with your contacts, rack your brains.”
“Any questions?” my dad asked, looking around the group. No one spoke up. “Good.” He started to walk away and then paused. “Be a good idea for you to call your women. No need to get them riled up, but tell ’em to keep their eyes open. Doors locked. No unnecessary trips into town. You know the drill.”
He strode toward us, scowling, and I sat up straighter in my seat.
“The fuck?” Rumi asked as he reached us.
“Got no fuckin’ clue,” Dad replied tiredly, snatching a chair from the table next to us and spinning it around so he could sit on it backward. “Whoever did this shit has nuts the size of cantaloupes.”
“You think we’ll find out who it was?”
Dad smiled at me and reached out to scrub his hand over the top of my head like I was ten years old. “Just a matter of time, bud.”
“Hopefully not too much time, or those guns will be gone,” Mick muttered.
“Can’t sell ’em,” Brody mused, tapping his knuckles against the table. “There’s no way they could do it quietly enough that we wouldn’t find out—not around here anyway.”
“And takin’ them across state lines would be a definite fuckin’ gamble,” Rumi said, nodding.
“So why would they take ’em?” Micky asked.
“For themselves?” I said, feeling oddly nervous to put in my two cents. I’d been a patched-in member for a minute, but it still felt weird to offer an opinion on anything. I was always waiting for them to tell me to shut the fuck up and go clean the bathroom or something.
“That’s somethin’ to think about,” my dad replied. “Who’s got balls that big and would be willin’ to fuck with us in order to get a shipment—”
“And who wouldn’t have the cash to just fuckin’ buy it from us and would risk stealin’ it,” Rumi added.
They volleyed ideas back and forth, thinking of groups and discarding them as suspects for one reason or another. An hour later, they’d come to the conclusion that it was either a group of survivalists that had a compound down near Sutherlin or a religious group closer to home.