Page 95 of Sully

Sully slung an arm over my shoulders, hauling me up against him as we walked.

“So fucking proud of you, baby,” he said with a quick kiss to my temple, his words making my heart squeeze in my chest.

There was no more talking then as we finally entered Hailstorm.

It was a real labyrinth inside, parts of it disorienting at times because there were no windows or signs telling you where you were going.

Fischer would occasionally toss out a little factoid about a room we were passing, but for the most part, we walked in silence until we seemed to reach the innermost part of the building.

The claustrophobic feeling immediately eased as we stepped into a large, open, octagonal space with a ton of overhead lighting to brighten it.

Desks sat around the outside of the room, no fewer than a dozen people hard at work on… whatever they even did at this place.

That was a question to ask some other time, I decided, as a pretty blonde woman approached Sully, hand outstretched.

“Chris,” he greeted her.

I was given a quick introduction, but then the two of them quickly slipped into an intense conversation about Sully’s past, leaving me a bit left out.

“Fisch, man, we gotta talk about phys. ed,” a guy said, walking up to Fischer, who was standing next to me. He was tall and just shy of gaunt, with brown hair stuck up at all different angles like he’d just climbed out of bed, and dark blue eyes.

“Man, for the hundredth time. This ain’t high school. We don’t have physical education. We have drills,” Fischer said, tone frustrated, but there was a smile tugging at his lips.

“Well, I think I should be excused,” the younger guy said, nodding.

“For what reason?”

“Moral objections.”

“Moral objections… to exercise?” Fischer asked.

“Precisely,” the younger guy said, making Fischer battle with his face to try to keep from smiling. “Oh, hi. I’m Cain. Cain Brewster,” he said, smiling at me.

“Oh, hi. I’m Bonnie. Bonnie Clewski.”

“What?” Sully’s voice barked, making my blood go cold as ice slid down my spine.

He moved away from Chris, stalked back toward me, his eyes so intense that I almost went back a step.

But this was Sully.

He wasn’t going tohurtme.

“What did you just say?” he asked. A muscle ticked in his jaw, it was so tight.

“Just… my name,” I said, hating how small my voice sounded.

“The fuck is your problem?” Fischer asked, stepping halfway between me and Sully.

“What is your last name?” Sully asked. And, to his credit, he was trying to make his voice calmer.

“Clewski,” I told him. “I know. It’s a silly one,” I added, trying to lighten the mood.

“Clewski,” Sully repeated. “You got a cousin named David?” he asked, and now my belly was twisting like a wrung-out dishcloth.

“No. I had a brother named David.”

“David Clewski is yourbrother.”

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