Page 28 of The Fire We Crave

As the two men turn the corner to follow us, we practice total indifference. Unless you were looking closely, you wouldn’t know that both of us are angled such that in our peripheral vision, we can see the exact moment they pass the entrance to the alleyway. And it’s impossible to miss Atom and Grudge when they step out behind them.

As if synchronized, despite spending the summer apart, Wraith and I turn to face them.

The sudden move stops them in their tracks.

“You’ve got two seconds to tell us why you’re following us,” Wraith says.

One of them smiles smugly. He’s wearing sneakers with black trousers that barely reach his ankles. “It’s a free country. Just exercising our right to walk the city.”

“In the exact same path as us?” I ask.

They look at each other, and as they do, they notice Atom and Grudge behind them.

The cocky attitude and demeanor slip a little from the one wearing a preppy polo shirt. That alone makes me want to punch his fucking lights out. Atom flicks the guy’s collar, and he flinches as though Atom just pistol-whipped the fucker.

“Why are you following us?” Wraith repeats.

“Same reason you’d follow someone you didn’t know if they crossed into your territory,” the guy in the weird pants says.

“The fact you know about our territory is reason enough for us to take you down that alley and get all the information we need,” Grudge says.

Polo Shirt laughs. “We got eyes on every part of this city. You won’t get away with shit.”

I wrap my hand around his throat so fast, no one has time to move. But when they do, Grudge grabs his friend, and Wraith pulls his weapon. “We’re well past the point of getting away with shit. You’re burning up our town, threatening the women in it, because you’re fucking cowards.” He tries to fight his way out of my grip and stops only when Atom presses the cool tip of his gun to the guy’s skull. “Us? We’re the big boys. We wear our names so you know who the fuck we are.”

A bullet whizzes between the two of us, which is really fucking lucky given we’re only inches apart.

“Incoming,” Grudge shouts.

I shove Polo Shirt to the ground. “Smoke. Atom. Wraith. And Grudge. Remember our names, fuckers.”

And with that, we run from the gunfire back to the truck.

8

QUINN

“Okay, I think it needs to go up a little.”

I direct Shane, one of the newer prospects, to raise his end of the new washing line a little higher. “You sure? This doesn’t look even at all.”

I grin, because I have been a bit of a pain in the ass about its placement.

First, I thought it could go from the brick building that I think serves as a workshop, from the brief look I took inside.

Then, I thought it could go from the porch pillar out to the garage. But then, I worried that was far too long and would droop in the middle, even with a pole to keep it up.

But now, I’m happy that it goes from the porch to a large tree at the perfect distance down the property. It means the things I hang on there will be in full sun all day. Things will dry quicker, and they won’t block the sun on the original line that only holds about twelve things.

My mom always used to tell me that the sun is better than anything antibacterial. Leave an item of clothing in the sunshine, and it will come in whiter, brighter because the UV rays can act as a natural bleach.

It’s wild I remember that, because the back of the bakery never had much of a garden, and to the best of my memory, she rarely hung clothes out there.

“That’s going to be perfect. And you should probably just put that bolt into the tree now before I change my mind.”

Shane grins. “Hallelujah. A man would die of dehydration doing chores with you.” He secures the bolt into the tree before tying the end of the line to it.

And, voila, I can now hang more items outside. On the existing line, Smoke’s bedding flaps and snaps in the breeze. It occurred to me that he’s been away for a large portion of the summer, and it might be dusty, even though he slept in it since he came back.

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