Page 58 of Inglorious
I choked on the mouthful of drink I’d just taken and spat it out. “What?” I hissed, wiping my mouth.
Vortex looked amused at my reaction. “Inglorious wants to claim you.”
“And spoke to you?”
“Yup. He declared that we’re close, and with Psych not being around to ask, it fell to me.”
Pain hit a little at Vortex’s words, but it was nowhere near as visceral as it had been in the past. Huh, maybe I was healing. “What did you say?”
“Gave Inglorious my blessing. But implied I’d beat the shit out of him if he hurt you,” Vortex replied, and I giggled.
“Surprised you didn’t threaten to shoot him.”
“Did that too,” Vortex said, and I laughed harder. “I missed that sound.”
I stopped laughing and sighed. “Not a lot to laugh over lately, Vortex.”
“No, but everyone’s healing.”
“Even you?” I asked.
Vortex gazed at the sunset. “Guilt is a fickle friend, Nanci. Inglorious should blame me because I left Rhea alone that night. But he’s not. In fact, Inglorious holds me responsible for quitting the MC and leaving Rhea. Nanci, I couldn’t look Rhea in the eyes, and I also thought the club had turned dark. Knowing that Sasha had been at risk and Inglorious looked after her and not me, chokes me.”
“And the remorse is stronger because you’ve only just discovered the truth,” I replied softly.
“Yeah. This club has far too much guilt. We’re all healing, though. Plus, we’ve barely had time to breathe since arriving.” Vortex said.
“When I ran, it was because of Rhea, what had happened, my parents, and wanting more than being here. A multitude of reasons led me to leave. I wanted a golden future, and I got it through hard work and sweat. I can honestly say that leaving here led me to the life I craved. Now, I look around Main Street and see a future.”
“Does that include Inglorious?”
“Funny enough, it might,” I said and nudged Vortex with my shoulder.
Vortex chuckled as we both sipped our drinks and watched the sunset.
Chapter Thirteen.
Nanci
With worry racing through me, I stared at the invitation on my desk and frowned. This had the potential to cause a shitstorm. Razor, Chill, and Inglorious weren’t ready for something like this. The intent was well-meaning, but for a club that was beginning to heal, this was the worst possible timing. Agitated, I tapped my nails, attempting to make a decision.
Refusal could be considered dismissive, and the invite had been sent in good faith. No harm had been meant, but attending might set everyone in the club back. A couple of us could go, but if we weren’t involved in the war, it would look like we were trying to snatch some glory. Unsure how to proceed, I sighed and dropped my head into my hands.
“What’s wrong?” Inglorious asked, and I jumped. I’d not heard him enter. “Nanci?” he pressed when I didn’t answer.
“Inglorious, I’ve received an invitation from Rapid City. They’re holding a massive cookout for those who were involved in the war last year. The club’s been invited,” I responded, deciding to be straight.
Inglorious stiffened, and his expression went dark. “They’re celebrating the deaths?”
“No. They want to remember those who died, and they’re opening a monument in the park,” I replied.
“Another damn memorial? How many does Rapid City need?” Inglorious demanded.
“As many as it takes for people not to forget, I suppose.”
“Typical. That’s not even the anniversary,” Inglorious bit out as he picked up the invitation and studied it.
“Yes, I’m well aware of the date Seth died,” I said sharply, and Inglorious looked ashamed. He blew his cheeks out and leant back in his chair, attempting to calm down.
