Page 73 of Cook

“Back down, now,” snapped a male voice. Wilde had returned with a set of keys in hand.

Angel dropped his hand. “Prez,” he said, ducking his head.

“What’s all this about?” asked Wilde.

“Take a guess,” said Angel. “My Lanie wants to see her sister.”

Wilde inclined his head toward me.

I shook my noggin—no. “Maddie has had too many people tell her what to do. I won’t be another.”

The Prez seemed unmoved by either of our arguments, but I dared him to try to get Bou to do anything she didn’t want to do.

“Both of you clean out your ears and listen hard,” Wilde said. “I’m gonna say one thing about this situation. Nah, make that two.”

Angel and I exchanged a glance.

Wilde ignored it. “First, this shit’s not club biz, so keep it out of church. Second, Cook, Maddie’s fucking broken. Take her back to Doctor Richardson. That’s the real help she needs.”

Jerking his head, Wilde gave us his back. Angel smirked and followed him like a dark shadow.

Fuck him.

Fuck them.

Like he said, it’s not club business. Therefore, I wouldn’t answer to either of them when it came to my nizhóní.

Chapter 14

Cook

Icouldn’t sleep. Perhaps it hadsomething to do with church a few days ago, but probably not. I didn’t sleep much before Maddie, but with her in my house, any more than a couple of hours of shuteye was impossible.

Tossing and turning failed to find a comfortable position, so I lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling in the shadowy predawn hours. The song dogs were active tonight too, their wails echoing off the cliffs in the distance.

Listening intently, I counted three distinct coyote voices yipping and screeching in the night, and wondered what they were up to. They’d never been a danger to anyone in the Ridge, only our hill-dwelling noisy neighbors.

They probably loved us recently for leaving food for them in shallow graves.

A bit of goddamn symbiosis.

“Fuck it,” I whispered and kicked off the blankets, getting my ass out of bed.

After stumbling into the kitchen, I brewed a pot of coffee, not turning on the lights as I didn’t want to wake Maddie. She wouldn’t sleep with her door closed, so if I woke before her, I needed to be careful. Fortunately, I’d filled the drip pot with water before we’d goneto bed.

Holding a cup of Joe and my phone in one hand, I eased the door open and slipped out onto the porch. The freshly poured concrete had been swept yesterday and felt surprisingly smooth under my bare feet.

And cold.

Temperatures plummeted in the desert at night.

But the concrete took away the splintering wood deck that’d been there before. One more danger in this messy situation, eliminated.

One handed, I lifted a chair over to where I’d have a prime view of the sunrise. Sitting down, I eased my back against the cold metal and waited.

Sunrises in the Ridge were uniquely magical moments. The brightening of the eastern sky set the ruddy rocks to the west ablaze.

Something rustled nearby, followed by several soft yips and scampering paws. Perhaps the coyotes were closer than I’d imagined. I smiled, recalling one morning as a kid when I had to ride a tiny bike into town for school. One tailed me the whole way, stopping and turning sideways when I looked back.

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