Page 144 of American Hellhound
She dumped her history book and snatched up chemistry and English.
He said, “Your parents–”
“I’ve said all I care to say to my mother,” she said, “so kindly butt the fuck out of my family life, Vince.”
But of course, Vince being Vince, he didn’t take her oh-so-subtle hint. “Everyone’s been saying,” he started with a cringe. “They’re worried. Like, really worried.”
“They’re worried about what everyone’s been saying. Shocker.” She shut her locker and turned toward her next class, a clear dismissal.
Vince rushed around to get in front of her, walking backward, tripping over his own feet. “Maggie!” he pleaded, voice getting high. “It would really mean a lot–”
Six months ago, if someone had told her she’d be intentionally rude to Vince, she wouldn’t have believed them. Different than Cody, but harmless in his own way, or so she thought. But now, she was justdone. “Get out of my way,” she said, elbowing past him.
“Maggie, your dad!” He grabbed at her arm. “He’s really worried! Please, it would mean a lot if you talked to him.”
She paused and he blinked at her, hopeful, adoring.
“I will say this once,” she said. “One more time, and after that, I’m going to punch you in the damn face.”
He blanched.
“Stop talking to my parents. Stop talking to me about my parents. Stay the hell out of my business, Vince, and mind your own.”
~*~
“We’ll figure something out,” Collier said.
Ghost snorted. “We?”
“You know I’m behind you on this, brother.” He sent him a smile he probably meant to be encouraging.
Ghost was in a state of self-pity that couldn’t be helped by kindly encouragements. Collier could be supportive – could even be sincere about it – but he had a job at a real garage. Jackie had a job. He was staying afloat and he couldn’t sympathize – not fully.
He’d put his mask up on his forehead when he was done spraying, and pulled it off now, chucked it into the plastic caddy a few feet away. The driver’s side of the Monte Carlo sparkled, slick and shiny with fresh paint. At least he’d accomplishedsomethingtoday.
“Duane wants to know you’re serious.”
“He’s a dick.”
“And he’s a dick,” Collier agreed. “He’s just fucking with you. Don’t let it get to you.”
He snorted again. He wondered sometimes why anyone who wasn’t the nephew of the president would join the club. Heknew– everyone in this crew had closets full of skeletons, arrest records, daddies with big ham fists and mamas who’d never bothered to kiss their bruises. Misfits, outsiders, freaks – they’d never belonged anywhere…until the club. So Ghost understood, he even agreed with them, but more often than not he couldn’t imagine submitting to Duane’s rule if you weren’t his last living blood relation. If he hadn’t raised you, withholding love and warping your brain with every smile.
“Hey, Maggie’s here,” Collier said.
Ghost turned to see his truck pulling in at the gate; the sun through the windshield caught Maggie’s golden hair, illuminated Aidan’s pale face. The sight of them made his stomach hurt. He wanted to climb in the cab with them and drive, just drive away, away, away, from every damn one of their problems, find some backward Appalachian town where no one knew who they were, nor held any strong opinions about them being together.
That wasn’t an option, though. He was Duane’s nephew; he was a member of this club.
It horrified him for one brief moment, that knowledge. That he was stuck, that anyone he loved would be stuck with him. But then Maggie opened her door, and Aidan came spilling out, shouting, “Daddy!” And he felt resolve settle through him, bright, strong-and-shiny like new steel, shoring up the weak places where he doubted and worried and wondered. It was Duane’s club, yes, but it wasn’tjustDuane’s. It belonged to all of them; it belonged to Ghost, in a way. He was set to inherit it, and damn if he wasn’t going tomake somethingof it.
He wiped his hands on his jeans and found that once he started forcing a smile, it turned true.
Aidan barreled into him, babbling excitedly. “Daddy, Maggie said we could get pizza, can we, can we please?”
“Sure, bud.” He raked his disheveled curls off his forehead so he could see the bright spark in his eyes. Even if she hadn’t done anything for him personally – and shehad– Maggie had made his kid happy, and she deserved an award for that.
She walked up behind Aidan at a reasonable pace, her smile more reserved. “Hi, Collier,” she greeted, and then her eyes came to Ghost, full of all the sparkle she was trying not to project. “Hi,” she said again, lower, softer. Just for him.
