Page 55 of Virago

The sketch showed a bookcase far more elaborate than any Gia had seen before. The case itself was fairly straightforward: six feet tall, four feet wide, with five shelves, four of them adjustable. What made the piece so elaborate was the massive actual statue attached to one side and over the top: A rampant horse, its forelegs kicking, its head thrown high, its rear haunch bunched with muscle. A flaming mane cascaded down the side of the case and over its top.

It was ostentatious as fuck, actually, but it would be gorgeous. And obviously, it was for one of the Horde. Subtlety was not a common trait in the club.

“Who’s this for?” Gia asked.

“Uncle Badger.” Bo paused at the end of a gouge and looked at her. “But it’s a secret. Aunt Adrienne commissioned it for his birthday.”

“He’ll love it. Is that mahogany?”

“Padauk. From Africa. I had to make a special order for it.”

“It’s beautiful.”

Bo nodded. “Yes. The color will change over time, too, darkening to burgundy and eventually to something like dark violet.”

“Cool. You’re working on the mane now, right?”

“Yes. I’m trying to keep a balance so it looks like a horse’s mane but also like fire. The club’s patch is too much like fire and not enough like mane. That’s why I’m doing these long gouges, so it flows like horsehair.”

Gia grinned. Leave it to her brother to need to improve on a patch nearly seventy years old.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out and saw, above a push notification from the Northwestern Alumni Association (she hadn’t finished her degree yet, but already she got those things twice a week) a text from her mother: Come to the house. Now.

Typical Major Mom. Didn’t ask if Gia was busy, didn’t say what she needed, simply issued an order. Gia swiped the preview away and pushed her phone back into her pocket.

Bo was looking at her. “You made a noise. Is something wrong?”

Gia didn’t recall making a noise, but she’d probably sighed or grunted or something. Bo always picked up on things like that and needed to understand their meaning.

“It’s Mom. I have been ordered to go to the house.”

“You haven’t been inside yet,” he pointed out. “It’s strange.”

Gia shrugged. Saturday she’d arrived and been told that she didn’t live in that house anymore. Then she’d escaped to the clubhouse with Dad for a while. Instead of dinner—to which she had not been invited, by the way—she’d gone out with Hilary and Mindy and come home with Zaxx (asshole). Yesterday she’d had a fight with Dad and spent the rest of the day pretending her family didn’t exist. Today, so far, she’d been trying to get her head straight about all of it, an effort that remained a work in progress.

She’d been home about forty-eight hours. Okay, maybe it was a little weird that she hadn’t gone into her childhood home yet. BUT THAT WAS BECAUSE SHE’D BEEN KICKED OUT OF IT.

She really needed to get her head straight. Either that or go back to Evanston or something. Or maybe move up her plans to interview patches from friendly clubs around the country and take off on a road trip.

“Mom’s feelings are hurt, I think,” Bo said, still carving his flaming mane. “You’re acting like you don’t want to be home.”

“No, Bo. I’m acting like I’ve been kicked out of my home.”

Fuck! She’d never intended to tell Bo anything like that.

Her words stopped his work. He lifted the gouge from the wood and stared at her, right in the eyes. “What?”

“Nothing. Never mind.”

“Don’t do that, Gia. That’s a lie.”

Among his many irritations and triggers was someone saying ‘nothing’ when they didn’t want to repeat themselves or talk about a topic.

“I don’t want to talk about this with you, Bo.”

“Then say that. But don’t say it’s nothing when it’s something.”

“Sorry.”

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