Page 76 of Forty

“Stay down,” Cheyenne widens her stance and sneers down at me.

I tug the neck of my hoodie until it loosens all the way, and I drag in a deep breath.

My body screams at me to run, fight through these bitches, or turn and bolt up the stairs, but they’re a solid wall, and some animal part of me knows I won’t make it an inch.

And besides, I can’t tear my gaze from those nails. Harper wraps them around the neck of her wine bottle and takes a swig.

She’s still smiling. Shivers shoot down my spine.

“Cheyenne, be a dear and go get my purse, will you? It’s on the bar.”

Cheyenne shuffles off; Annie and Danielle spread out to block the opening she left.

Would they go after me if I sprinted up the stairs? If I threw a few punches, maybe grabbed Harper’s wine bottle, I could get the element of surprise.

Who am I kidding? I’m in the middle of a football huddle of drunk biker bitches. I’m not getting the upper hand. I’m gonna take a beating.

Whoever throws the first punch, I’m going for Annie. Harper’s the ringleader, but Annie’s her muscle. Also, I kind of hate her for letting Crista fade away after what happened to her.

I brace myself, waiting for it. Instead, Harper says, “Hey, Annie?”

Harper’s smile widens. She stares down her nose at me with her gray cat eyes. I swear she blinks a tenth as often as a normal person. It’s unnerving.

“Yeah?” Annie snaps her gum.

“Do you remember when Forty left for Basic, and Nevaeh here tried to fuck every loser and Rebel Raider from here to Pyle?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Remember when Forty finished Basic? How you and Bullet and Eighty flew out for Family Day and graduation?”

“Yeah. Nevaeh should have been there, but you know—” Annie shrugs. “Slut.”

“Remember when he deployed? The first time?”

“Yeah.” Annie flashes me a smile oozing spite and malice. “We sent him a picture of all us ladies with our tits out. For morale, you know.”

“All of us but Nevaeh,” Danielle adds.

“Because Nevaeh had long since bailed. At the end of the day, she didn’t care if Forty lived or died,” Annie spits. “He wasn’t around, so she had no use for him.”

“Ernestine put his name in the book of intentions at church, so everyone would pray for him,” Harper says.

“Shirlene and Deb sent him care packages.” Annie’s eyes grow shiny. Guilt collects thick in my chest. Smothering. Sapping away the adrenaline I was operating on.

“When he came home, we had that huge party,” Danielle says as she makes room for Cheyenne who’s returned with Harper’s purse. “You and me and Story and all the girls from The White Van gave him an evening he won’t forget.” She winks at me.

My stomach lurches.

“I know I’m never gonna forget. The Army did that man’s body good.” Cheyenne smirks and licks her lips.

Harper takes a step forward until the pointy toes of her high heels are almost touching the rubber of my sneakers. The others shuffle forward, and lean over me, crowding as close as they can without touching, their hair dangling like curtains.

My blood pounds in my veins. I’m about to take a beating, and I keep getting stuck on random details—Harper’s nails, the freckles on Cheyenne’s chest, how Annie’s rubbed off the blue eyeshadow on her left eye—while my broken, record-scratch brain tries to handle the guilt. The shame.

“Remember when he came back after the accident?”

“He was in so much pain.”

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