Page 30 of Raze

Taking a seat I help myself to a beer from the cooler.

“You look deep in thought,” I start, staring at the flames the same as he is.

“I am.” He’s clearly still pissed at me, and I get why, but it doesn’t change anything. I asked him to come here and be my second way before I knew that Eden was still alive.

“She should be here, ya know.” He flicks his hair over to one side.

“Yeah, well, a lotta people should be here who ain’t, your sister for one of ‘em,” I remind him that he’s got bigger issues to be concerning himself with.

“That’s different.”

“Yeah, Wrath, it is, because somewhere out there Willow is wantin’ to be found. Eden has done everythin’ in her power not to be.”

“How could Jimmer have known all this time and not told us?” He puts off that subject because it hurts him too much, and I know that because I feel the same kinda pain when I think about it.

“I don’t know, Wrath, guess we never will, she must have been pretty persuasive.”

“Or at risk.” Wrath looks up at me. “Eden ain’t the first person Jimmer’s covered up for. You remember Teresa?”

“I remember her. I know her and Stacey spoke a lot,” I recall.

“One of my old man’s favorites, she thought she was fuckin’ better then all the other whores. She got knocked off her podium pretty quick when he started his thing with—” Wrath cuts himself off.

“What about her?” I rush him to his point.

“Teresa was Jimmer’s brother’s wife, she left him with their four kids back in Montana and Jimmer hid her out here. He let his own nephews think their moma was dead.” Wrath fills me in on something that I had no idea about.

“There would have been a reason for that, just like there is with Eden. You have to face up to it. She doesn’t want us in her life, Wrath, and I can’t blame her. Now we can butt heads about that all ya like, but we have a club to fix.”

“Why me, Raze? Why drag me back here?” He turns to look at me and I can’t work out if he’s hurt or confused.

“For exactly the same reason as you're sittin’ here. We’ve both spent far too long runnin’.” I stand back up taking my beer with me and heading over to Ruckus.

“What’s up, Boss?” He whispers something to the girl he’s talking to that makes her smile, then when she starts heading up the stairs he gives me his undivided attention.

“We all set for tomorrow?” I check. Noticing that a different guy is talking to Peyton now, I don’t know who he is or where he came from, but like Corey, he’s much more her age than I am.

“All set, guns are packed and locked away in the storage room, you just gotta decide who you're takin’ along for the ride.” I know there’s been a lotta questions on who I’d take with me on my first run as president and I’ve tried to be tactful with my decision.

“You…”

“Goes without sayin’.’” He slaps my shoulder cockily. “I’m ya Sergeant At Arms, though it seems to me you keep forgettin’ that.” Ruckus raises an eyebrow at me but I’m too distracted by the fact Peyton’s letting that guy lead her further into the shadows under the balcony.

“I don’t need a fuckin’ bodyguard Ruckus, but you are comin’. I’m thinkin’ we let Rocco drive the cage, take Sasquatch, Saint, Dev, and …” I watch him settle beside her and turn his body into hers, listening intently as she explains something to him.

“Raze?” Ruckus snaps me out of it.

“Wrath can stay behind and hold the fort with Griller, Vike, and Saul,” I tell him while I continue doing my best not to let what’s happening over there bother me. I’ve been trying to push this girl and the thoughts I’ve been getting about her, away for days. Maybe this is how it should be, her talking and having fun with a guy her own age. Yet when I hear her laugh loudly I have to tense my fists to stop me going over there and landing one on him.

“You're leavin’ Wrath behind?” I can tell Ruckus don’t approve of that from the shock in his voice, but he’s not in charge, I am.

“He’s my VP, I need to leave someone here I can trust.”

“And do you trust him? ‘Cause I ain’t seein’ a lot of evidence on that.”

I hear a loud splutter coming from under the balcony and when I see the guy sitting on the couch next to Peyton, holding what looks like a blunt between her lips and encouraging her to toke it back, I abandon Ruckus and march straight over.

I don’t know who the kid is, but I already hate the way he’s looking at her. I grab him by his shirt and smash him into one of the pillars that hold up the balcony, while Peyton stares up at me with round, shocked eyes and her lips gaped open.

---