Page 6 of Gunpowder

The automatic doors gliding open was the best sound he’d heard in days. It wasn’t a peaceful summer day so much as just another humid Friday in Queens, but Blair’s crowded city was a welcome sight. The smell of fried confections hit his nose and his stomach growled to remind him of the doughnut shop right around the corner. Spencer was probably picking him up, and Blair hoped they could stop somewhere. He couldn’t fight a war on an empty stomach.

“Do try and stay out of trouble, Mr. Kennedy.”

He glanced over at the sound of the deep voice. “Thanks, Doc.”

Dr. Garrett was leaning against the high glass panes that made up the outer wall of the hospital. The nurse seemed content to leave him in the presence of a doctor, so Blair thanked her for walking him out before standing next to the tall man. It felt good to lean on something while he waited, anyway. He watched half a dozen people depart at the bus stop in front of the hospital, relaxing only when they went their separate ways without incident. To him, every person pulling their sleeve back to look at their watch was reaching for a gun. Every pair of eyes that fell on him was marking him as a target.

The bus pulled away and his heart slowed down. He sighed at his own irrationality. Maybe it wasn’t unreasonable to be paranoid after what happened, but he couldn’t watch everyone on the sidewalk at once and surely Phantom wasn’t stupid enough to hit him in broad daylight, on camera, standing right next to someone.

Despite knowing this, he jumped at the sound of rubber squealing on pavement. At the intersection, a sleek black car drifted around the corner and tore down the road in front of him. He had seen too many drive-bys to relax until it was past him with a roar of the engine. Sunlight flashed on Audi’s signature interlocking silver rings on the hood of the car.

“I see Wren has decided to grace us with his presence,” Dr. Garrett said.

“Somebody you work with?”

Dr. Garrett opened his mouth to answer but whatever he said was lost in the reverberating purr of another engine. Blair knew this one well, and the sound of it put an instant smile on his face. He stood up as straight as he could on his crutches. The car was loud and distinctive, and everyone in their neighborhood knew who it belonged to.

“Hey, Boss.”

The muscle car pulled up to the sidewalk with the top down, and Felix lifted a finger from the wheel in greeting. “You ready to get the fuck out of here?”

“Am I ever.” Blair turned, and though it took a little shifting on his crutches to be able to balance with one hand, he held out his other one to the doctor. “Thanks for everything. I know it’s your job or whatever but still.”

Dr. Garrett took the offered hand and smiled. Before he could speak he was interrupted, this time not by the car but the driver. “So you’re the one that dug that bullet out of Kennedy,” Felix said.

“Digging is something of an exaggeration, it came out with little hindrance.”

Felix reached over and pushed the door open for Blair, who slid his crutches behind him before sitting in the passenger seat. “You still got my thanks for taking care of the kid. If you ever find yourself in Flushing, you should stop by Harlowe’s. I owe you a drink.”

“I’ll be sure to remember that,” Dr. Garrett said.

Blair looked in the side mirror as they pulled away. He watched the wind stir a few of his own coppery locks, and beyond that, Dr. Garrett watching them go. He watched the doctor’s form shrink until it disappeared before he turned his attention back to the road. Felix was a daunting presence in his peripheral vision. As much as Blair wanted to be flattered by the boss coming to pick him up himself, he knew there was a good chance Felix was there to give him an ass chewing.

Felix shifted gears and Blair waited for the Mustang to quiet back down before he said, “Look, Boss, I’m—”

“Shot.”

Blair gaped for a moment at having his long, thought out apology silenced. Felix lit a cigarette and took a drag before he continued. “You hesitated and got shot. I ain’t gonna be able to teach you a better lesson than that. Besides, I’m a lot more interested in taking down those Phantom bastards than reading you the riot act. Take it from somebody who’s had a couple rounds put in them, that hole you got will keep you on your toes from now on.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Call me that again and I’ll put one in your other leg.”

Blair winced and rubbed his aching thigh. “Understood.”

They put Long Island City in the rearview and got back on their side of town. The closer they got to the bar, the more people took the time to watch the ’69 Mustang and its scarlet haired driver pass by. Felix didn’t fuck with people who didn’t fuck with him but he had a reputation. The nickel he’d done in Dannemora for second degree arson might have something to do with it.

Marie was standing in front of the bar when they pulled up and Blair didn’t even get the car door open before she was there. She pulled his crutches out of the back and helped him onto them with no regard for his embarrassed mumbling that she didn’t have to. He stared up at the brick facade of Harlowe’s for a moment before hobbling inside. The sight of it was as much of a relief as it was a catalyst to his anxiety—things were not the same as they’d been before that disaster of a warehouse run. They were at war, and the bar now looked more like a fortress than a happy home.

It was almost worse how normal everything seemed. Spencer was polishing glasses and Ricky was whistling loudly from the small kitchen where they made the limited selection of bar snacks on the menu. Adam, their “pharmaceuticals expert” was sitting at the bar with a foot hooked around the stool next to him, occupied by his partner Nolan. Felix immediately went to the leather couch against the wall, his throne if he ever had one. He dropped down onto the beaten thing and stretched his arms out along the back.

“Blair, welcome home!”

There was no bracing himself in his current condition, so Blair just hoped for the best when Julian came rushing toward him. He tried to return his fellow member’s embrace but it was difficult with his crutches so he ended up just letting Julian dote on him. Julian always seemed a little out of place among the rest of them, with his mocha eyes always full of compassion and his dislike of violence. Not that anyone ever dared mention that. He was Felix’s old friend just like Spencer and the boss was fiercely protective of them both. Julian was a smooth talker, though, and he could pick locks like a fiend.

Ricky brought out two plates of kabobs and they all gathered around to eat. Blair soaked up the sound of laughter of conversation as the kabobs were reduced to a mounting pile of empty wooden sticks. There was no telling when they would all get to relax together like this again.

Chink. Spencer’s lighter. The sound raised the hair on Blair’s arms, taking him back to the warehouse for a moment, but he heard it only once and then smoke began to waft through the bar. He took a deep breath and grounded himself in the present. Eventually, Marie sat next to him and reminded him to take his damn horse pill of an antibiotic, and to inform him that Spencer wanted to drive him home.

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