Page 62 of Cannon
“Go ahead,” Kingston murmurs, his tone deadly soft.
“Is there a limit on the shots or is it simply what we think we can handle?”
Archer smirks, sliding his thumbs smoothly behind his suspenders. “No limits, but your sponsoring brothers are responsible for locating and collecting you if you’re too drunk to get back here, so think carefully.” His eyes flick to said brothers before also nodding to Dane and Zeke. “Understood?”
Everyone he’s addressed nods, then Kingston turns to collect the pieces of paper and Sharpies from the coffee table. He holds them out for us to take from him, then steps back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Think it through and bid wisely.”
I purse my lips, letting a small exhale hiss from between them. Bridger already has a ten-minute disadvantage, which means he’ll need two shots just to be even with Taggart and me if we were to bid zero. I steal a look at Taggart. I do happen to know he’s a decent runner. He goes out with Dane and Zeke a lot. It’s like their little bonding thing they’ve done several times since that first morning in the house. Tag is a nice enough guy, but I don’t have a good read on how adept he’ll be at figuring out clues. He’s sweating this, though, for sure. And he doesn’t do so hot under certain types of pressure. But… he’s also willing to work with me, if only a little bit, as evidenced in both how we decided to split up during the panty raid and also how we talked to try to find our way out of that horrid house.
Shit, I don’t know whether it would be better to work as a team or not because if it comes down to a run for it at the end, he will beat me. I have him pegged for a one-shot bid.
Now, Bridger on the other hand, he’s a conniving asshole. I don’t want him anywhere near me, not only because I don’t want to deal with any retribution he might seek to inflict, but also because I think he’s a fucking cheat. I also have him pegged for taking a bunch of shots. There’s not a chance in hell he wants to be the last one outta here.
Thinking hard, I allow myself to consider some of the potential outcomes to our bidding war. Bridger might take the two shots to bring him to equal with us, which would mean I’d want to take at least one. But if he takes three to see if he can get ahead of us, and I take one, I’m shit out of luck, and we’ll leave at the same time. Ugh. This is ridiculous. I bet that dick takes a whole bunch because he thinks he’s indestructible.
“What’s the matter, Elliot? Afraid you’ll make a dumb decision?” Alec chuckles. I look up to realize everyone is waiting for me.
“Sorry,” I murmur, my brain still turning things over, then hurriedly scrawling the number I think I can handle on the paper, because I can’t possibly know for sure what anyone else will do but me. I hold it out for collection, clenched in my fist.
Archer takes it from me, glancing at what I wrote, his brow raising. He lets out a low whistle. “Okay, so. Bridger will leave first.” He glances down at his chunky wristwatch. “Shit, B, you’ll have to take yours quickly.” His gaze sweeps around the entire brotherhood. “Elliot leaves ten minutes later, then Taggart five minutes after that. Everyone will take their shots right before they head out.”
I nod, closing my eyes briefly and hoping like hell I didn’t screw up by bidding two.
“Alec, you want to assist Bridger?” Kingston raises his brow as he points at the shot glasses and bottle. When Alec doesn’t move immediately, Kingston claps his hands together a few times, and it’s like a series of booming thunderclaps. “Fuckin’ move!”
Bridger and Alec both shoot to their feet, and Kingston hands Bridger his shot glass and Alec the bottle of deep-amber whiskey. I’m astonished as I watch Bridger throw back shot after shot right in a row, pausing before the final one and shaking his head. After a few moments, he nods to Alec that he can refill the sixth time, then drinks that one down, too. With his final shot done, he blows out a breath. “Now what?”
Archer eyes his watch again, then holds out another card that looks new and fancy. “We redo the clue cards each year because of the state some of them come back in. Same clues, though, promise. Take it. Your time starts now.”
Bridger snatches it out of his grip, quickly scanning it. “What the fuck?” He scowls, wetting his lips. “Pigs don’t fuckin’ fly,” he mutters.
Kingston laughs darkly. “I guess you’d better get on your way, B. Have fun out there and behave yourself, you arrogant fuck.”
Just a few minutes later, it’s my turn to get started. Archer pours a shot for me while Kingston looks on, his lips firmly pressed together. I don’t have a fucking clue if he thought I’d forego the shots or not, if he thinks I chose poorly, but it’s too late now. I breathe out, take the little glass from Archer, and immediately throw it back. It fucking burns all the way down my throat, landing with a hiss in my stomach.Shit.I sputter, coughing a bit. My eyes water. “Sorry,” I croak out.
Archer says nothing, simply pours the second shot. I wet my lips, eyeing it while trying not to shudder. This time, it doesn’t burn so much as it warms. I stand between Kingston and Archer, simply trying to breathe as Archer counts down the time remaining before I can leave.
I really wish Cannon were here. I know if he was, he’d have his big hand resting on my back and his strong, silent presence would reassure me. I can’t think about him now, though. I’ve gotta focus and get through this, then I’ll go see him. Whether he’s truly not feeling well or is simply avoiding me, I don’t know, but I can’t handle the idea of either, so he’ll have to suck it up when I get back.
“Here you go.” Kingston hands off the card to me, and I quickly scan the clue.
Under the bright lights
of a Friday night sky,
lions roar like thunder
where pigs fly.
“You can leave whenever you’re ready, Peaches.”
I glance at him, seeing the encouragement in his eyes. He thinks I can do this. I hope I don’t disappoint either of them. Or Cannon.Ugh.I blow out a breath, scrunching my forehead in concentration. Lights. Friday. Roaring lions.Where pigs fly.
Like lightning, the answer hits me.
TWENTY-NINE
ELLIOT
