When Zig returns, he nods toward the door. “Come on. Let’s get some fresh air.”
“But they may come to tell me what room he’s in,” I protest.
“The boys will come get us if that happens.”
I stand, hesitant to leave.
“Come on. It’ll be a few minutes before anyone comes.”
“All right,” I murmur and follow him outside.
We walk a short distance from the entrance, and Zig lights up a cigarette, blowing the smoke toward the starry sky.
I’m sure he brought me out here for more than a companion to smoke with, and a moment later, he turns and meets my eyes.
“You drivin’ that truck tonight?”
“Yes…?”
“Look, for a chick, you did good out there.”
I let out a laugh, the events of the night draining from my body. “Wow. Did you choke on those words?”
He grins and bumps my chin with his fist. “I like you.”
“Liar.”
He chuckles. “What I said before, about you not bein’ ol’ lady material? I was wrong.”
“Thanks.”
“Prez needs you.”
“I need him, too.”
He nods. “That’s good. As long as your first instinct isn’t to run.”
“I won’t run again, Zig.”
“Good to know. ‘Cause that man in there took a bullet for you today, and he’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
“I know.” A breeze chills my skin, and I rub my upper arms. “That’s what scares me, Zig. All the violence. Is this how it will always be?”
“No, ma’am. If it was, there wouldn’t be a brother wanting this patch. Not gonna lie and say shit doesn’t go down. It does. But the good times far outweigh the bad.”
“I’m glad.” I smile. “So, you and me? We good?”
“Yeah, darlin’, we’re good.” He grinds the butt of his smoke out and loops an arm around me, turning us back toward the door.
“Zig?” I stop us.
“Yeah?”
“You didn’t see what happened to Carson, did you?”
He looks over my shoulder toward the parking lot, then shakes his head. “You and me? We can’t talk about that, Shelby.”
I know in that moment it was him, defending his president, defending us both by taking out the threat. He doesn’t have to say it, and I understand why he and I can’t discuss it. “Thank you.”