Page 6 of Queen of Spades

While Wren stitched up Anders’ head, the three of us took seats around a nearby table, sitting in silence as Sparrow busied herself behind the bar. She walked up with a bottle of whiskey and four glasses, setting them all out and pouring us each a measure before sitting down herself, leveling a stare around the table. Sparrow was a force, she led the MC in South Cali, and she was as ruthless as she was deadly. We were lucky that she tolerated us like she did, because I was pretty sure they could have wiped us all out years ago.

“So? Who’d you piss off?” she demanded, signing as best she could for Jesse’s benefit. Her technique was abysmal, but she tried, and that was a courtesy most people didn’t extend at all.

“My father and the Boogeyman,” Erik replied bitterly, downing his drink and reaching for the bottle, pouring himself another. I noticed his hand was shaking, and my throat tightened. If he fell apart, we all would.

“You were always a fan of the underdog story, weren’t you?” Sparrow sighed, shaking her head. “So, what now? Are you on the run, or do you go back toDaddywith your tail between your legs?”

“My father’s dead,” Erik replied, staring at the whiskey. Sparrow’s eyebrows shot up, and she did another scan of the table.

“Well then… Why the long faces?” she asked, taking a sip of her drink.

“We-” Erik cleared his throat, frowning while he downed his drink once more, his jaw working as he struggled to steady himself.

“One of ours didn’t make it,” I offered quietly, and Roe’s face softened imperceptibly, giving me a gentle nod.

“We don’t know that,” Anders snapped, drawing our attention. Wren looked exasperated, the needle hovering next to his face as he refused to hold still. “We never saw a body, so we don’t know she’s gone.” Roe’s eyebrows shot up, and Jesse turned back to his drink, shaking his head slowly.

“The building collapsed, man. There’s… there’s not going to be a body,” Erik replied, grabbing the bottle again.

“You don’t know that!” Anders stood up swiftly, and Wren yelped in protest, quickly snipping off the stitches at the end before Anders pulled her along with him. I moved to stop him before he made it to the door, and his eyes bore into mine, ordering me to step aside. “Move,” he snapped.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Erik demanded, and Anders rolled his shoulders, his hands clenched into fists.

“I’m going back there to find her!” he snarled. None of us knew what to say, he was beyond reason at this point.

“There’s nothing there, Anders,” I murmured. “She’s gone. I’m sorry, she’s just… gone.”

“We didn’t see it! We don’t know! I have to know!” he shouted, shoving me back with each outburst. I finally grabbed his arms, pulling him tight to my chest. It must have hurt with the wound in his shoulder, but there was worse pain right now to deal with.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” I murmured as he beat his fist on my chest. Erik looked like he was going to be sick, and Jesse buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking.

Sparrow let us stay in her back room, which had a couple of ratty couches in amongst the extra cases of booze. Our house probably wasn’t safe to go back to right now, plus we were in no shape to drive. Anders finally let Wren work on his shoulder. The bullet had been through and through, so that was lucky at least. He’d succumbed to that eerie silence once more, his eyes glazed over and grief etched across his face. He refused any kind of pain meds, and I truly didn’t know how he stayed conscious, or still for that matter, while Wren stitched him up.

Erik and Jesse finished the bottle of scotch between them and passed out on one of the couches, while I sat awake, watching Anders sleep on the second one. I couldn’t risk him sneaking off while I was asleep. Plus, I knew what I would see when I closed my eyes.

My breath came out in sharp bursts, the pain from today settling in as I stared at the broken remains of my friends. Douglas was going to pay for this. I’d rip him limb from limb myself.

Wren appeared in the doorway sometime in the morning, after the sun had come up and light had peeked into our makeshift room. “Coffee?” she murmured, and I nodded dully, standing and leaving the others to sleep. I trailed after her into the half-kitchen behind the bar, watching silently as she set up a new pot and got the coffee brewing.

“How are you feeling?” she asked gently, and I shrugged, shoving my hands in my pockets. “Do you need anything? Were you injured in the explosion?”

“Just banged up, nothing new,” I mumbled. At least my ears weren’t ringing as badly anymore.

“She was important to you, wasn’t she?” Wren murmured, and I looked away, toward the ancient deep fryer in the corner.

“She was.” The silence weighed heavily between us, my pain swallowing up any pleasantries or polite small talk.

The coffee machine buzzed, and Wren poured a cup for me, handing it over carefully.

“Go upstairs and sleep on the couch. I’ll watch over them for a bit.” She smiled, touching my shoulder gently. I shook my head. I couldn’t sleep right now. If I slept, I’d dream, and if I dreamed, I knew she would be there. I couldn’t handle that right now.

I settled at one of the tables by the bar, sipping my coffee, as I waited for the others to wake up. Anders was the firstout the door, looking like he hadn’t slept at all. The side of his head was still coated in blood, which had dried brown and looked horrible, and his arm was in a makeshift sling so he wouldn’t tear up the stitches in his shoulder. He sat down mutely next to me, and I got him his own cup of coffee, which he stared at but didn’t drink. Jesse and Erik emerged a few hours later, and I got our go-bags out of the car, leaving the small backpack meant for Grace inside. We took turns showering in Sparrow and Wren’s upstairs apartment, and I busied myself with checking our security cameras on my laptop.

We spent three days licking our wounds and wallowing in Sparrow’s storage room while I watched the cameras around our house. Finally, after seventy-two hours with no perceived threats, Erik deemed it safe enough to return home. The drive back was as silent as ever, and it felt weird walking into the house, just the four of us. I went straight up to my room, flickering out of view as I shut the door behind me. I stripped off my pants and climbed into bed, dropping my head onto my pillow. It still smelled a little like her, honey and nutmeg, and I buried my face into it, wishing it was her instead.

I wasn’t sure how long I slept, but I woke with a start when something crashed nearby. Jumping to my feet, I padded barefoot through the bathroom, pushing open the door to Anders’ room. It looked like a whirlwind had blown through here. The bookshelf was tipped over and books littered the floor. Half his closet was torn out and thrown in piles all over the room. Anders was busy tearing one of the drawers out of his dresser one-handed, and I stepped over the bookshelfand grabbed it away from him before he could throw it or injure himself.

“What the hell are you doing?” I exclaimed, and he scoffed and tried to jerk the drawer out of my hands.

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