Page 99 of Cook

“We need a better schedule and more people on the line,” said Celt.

“Trust me, man. We got this.” Cook pushed off the couch. “I gotta piss.”

I lurched to my feet, following him toward the bathroom. I couldn’t be parted from him. But he closed the door, and I dragged myself over to some of the nearby half-shut boxes.

More stuff, sloppily packed.

“What are you doing?” asked Celt, his voice pelting into my back.

I jumped but didn’t stop. I took the shirt out and refolded the fabric, so it didn’t have so many wrinkles.

“Let her be, Celt,” said Roni in a soft tone.

There was so much shit strewn all over the apartment. A maze of boxes. Tripping hazards. Old beer bottles. How could they live in such a mess?

I put the bottles in the recycling, and then I took out a towel and wiped down the counter. There were ringlets from the bottles and old stains from food. I scraped at the stains with my thumbnail.

“Maddie, stop,” cooed a voice.

What even was this shit caked to the counter? I was going to get it off one way or another.

A hand grabbed my wrist and whipped me around. I came face to face with Cook. Immediately, the tendency to clean left me, and I dropped the cloth. I wanted to serve him. However he wanted.

He grabbed the cloth and threw it at the sink. “Come here.”

Cook led me away from the kitchen counter by my wrist. He sat me back down on the couch.

“Sit all the way back,” he ordered.

I slid my ass all the way to the back and slouched into the cushions. Only then did Cook sit beside me. But when he wasn’t in my line of sight, the mess called out to me again. The boxes and the stains on the counter and where their beer bottles left condensation ringlets on the coffee table.

They really should’ve used coasters.

The box was that overflowing with clothes needed to be refolded and then fit into the box correctly, like a puzzle. I needed to completethe puzzle.

Cook slid his hand across my knee, and the bouncing stopped. For a second, I relaxed, but then I glimpsed the mess in the other bedroom.

Roni and Celt’s room. More clothes were on the floor, and the bed wasn’t made. I needed to fix that.

Cook wrapped his arm around my shoulders, bringing me close to him. His heartbeat was even, but his hands were clammy, covered in the dew from the beer. His breath reeked of it too. His shirt was wrinkled. I would need to iron it.

He pushed my chin up and his hardened gaze softened, like he could see deep into my soul. When he released me, he said to the others. “Maddie’s tired. Can we still crash in the extra room?”

“Yeah,” said Celt, and Roni got to her feet quickly.

“I’ll put some extra clothes and towels in there,” said Roni, walking into the bathroom.

If the towels were folded anything like the shirts in the boxes, I was going to have to refold. Maybe iron them too.

Cook jumped off the couch and brought me to my feet. With his arm still around my shoulders, he led me to the bedroom where I woke earlier. My body still buzzed from our time at Serenity, but a new buzzing was blowing through my system. Cook closed the door behind us and then sat me on the bed.

“You’re trembling, Maddie,” he said. “What’s going on?”

“There’s just a big mess out there.” Then I saw how the sheets and blankets were tucked into the bed in their room. It was a mess. Dangerous. Almost as dangerous as it was running guns across the border and whatever the motorcycle club was getting involved in. Why?

Cook bent in front of me. “That’s not it. Tell me what’s happening.”

I curled my legs to my chest, balancing on the edge of the bed. “Can we go home?”

---