Page 78 of Turmoil's Target

As we step outside, the party roars to life around us.

Raucous laughter, clinking bottles, women’s high-pitched giggles.

Spark beelines for the bar while I hang back, shoving my hands in my pockets.

Across the lot, beyond the mass of bikes gleaming under twinkling Christmas lights, I can just make out Zoe’s little blue modular.

I know that’s where Spark will end up tonight.

He always does lately.

Must be nice, having someone you wanna go home to at the end of the day.

I push down the sharp ache in my chest, that hollow longing for something I can’t even name, and follow Spark to the bar.

Maybe he’s right.

Maybe a cold drink and some halfway decent company is exactly what I need to shake off this funk.

Lord knows I could use a distraction from the restless thoughts churning in my head.

I grab the bottle Spark slides my way and take a swig.

Here goes nothing.

“Well look what the cat dragged in,” Doc smirks as he walks up beside me, “Was starting to think you’d gone full hermit on us, brother.”

I snort, taking another pull from my bottle. “Nah, just been busy. You know how it is.”

“Oh I know. Heard that last run was a real shitshow.” He arches a brow. “Spark finally drag your surly ass outta that tin can?”

“Somethin’ like that.” I tip my chin toward him. “Congrats, by the way. On the kid.”

Doc’s face splits in a proud grin. “Thanks, man. Still can’t hardly believe it myself.”

“You sure it’s yours?” The question slips out before I can think better of it. “I mean, no offense, but Sassy ain’t exactly known for keeping her legs crossed, if you know what I mean...”

Spark chokes on his beer, shooting me an incredulous look.

But Doc just chuckles, completely unfazed. “She may be a lot of things, but she ain’t no liar. Besides, ain’t no one else been sniffing around her in weeks. Morning sickness is a hell of a cock block.”

I hum noncommittally.

Makes sense, I guess.

Sassy’s mouth has gotten her on the wrong side of more than a few ol’ ladies lately.

Probably smart to lay low.

“If she knew what was good for her, she’d learn to keep that trap shut and stay in her own damn lane,” Spark grumbles. “Girl’s always startin’ shit.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Doc agrees, taking a swig. “But you know Sassy. Broad’s got more balls than brains. Guess that mouth is gonna have to start getting her out of trouble, instead of into it.”

We all share a laugh at that, the tension breaking.

Doc shakes his head, still grinning.

“Ah, she’ll be all right. Hopefully this baby knocks some sense into her.” He drains the rest of his bottle and pushes off the bar. “Imma see if she’s got her ass out of bed yet. Catch you boys later.”

---