Page 113 of The Trust We Broke
LUCY
“What’s going on in there?” Catfish asks, his fingers drumming on the wooden bar top as he looks over his shoulder to the closed door of Grudge’s office.
He arrived shortly after I’d taken the coffee in there. I pour him a mug from the second pot and slide it to him. “What did Grudge already tell you?”
Catfish grins. “I see what you did there.”
“And what was that?”
He takes the mug from me. “A very lawyerly sidestep instead of actually answering the question. I asked what’s going on, and you asked me what I already knew so you don’t say more than you should.”
“Far be it from me to get in trouble with Grudge.”
Catfish laughs. “Doll, I think you’ve already proven you could do just about anything, and he’d forgive you for it.”
I know that Catfish is only having some fun, and that, one day, I’m going to have to forgive myself for my part in what happened in our past, but today doesn’t feel like the one. I stillfeel like I have more to do to prove to the man how sorry I am. Perhaps his vindication will prove it.
Jackal and Shade walk into the clubhouse, and from where I’m standing behind the bar, I catch the whisper-like brush of Shade’s hand against Jackal’s lower back as he helps him with his jacket. Shade seems surprised to see me, and they separate quickly.
As I lawyer, I rely on evidence from anywhere I can get it. Video. Eyewitness testimony. Written statements. And body language.
If I saw what I think I just saw, I need to keep it to myself.
I was shocked to see a Black biker in the room with Grudge. From everything I’ve seen or read about motorcycle clubs, they are inherently racist organizations. I know Grudge isn’t racist or homophobic, but he’s a brand-new president, and changing the minds of old-timers to accept two men together will be tough.
I don’t know if Grudge knows, but I’m going to follow the only rule that matters, the one of common decency, that you don’t out someone else.
Ever.
“Anyone know what’s going on?” Jackal asks.
Catfish shakes his head. “Just that we have to wait out here until they’re done.”
“If you made coffee, Lucy,”Wraith says, stomping his boots on the mat, “I’ll love you forever.”
Smoke follows him in, brushing snow off the top of his head.
“I did.” I grab a few mugs in each hand. “Let me pour you all a cup.” It doesn’t feel weird, serving these men. I thought it might. If they harbor any ill will against me for what I did to Grudge back then, they don’t show it.
Maybe they don’t care. Maybe they’re following Grudge’s lead. But I find myself hoping that there’s a path to earning their trust, and maybe even respect.
Atom blows into his hands as he walks in before hanging his Stetson on a hook by the door. “Fucking cold out there, today.”
“The guy on the radio on the way in said it’s going to stay below freezing for the rest of the month,” Jackal says. “Might get six inches of snow, this afternoon, too.”
Catfish looks around the clubhouse. “Can’t decide if it would be better to get snowed in here or at home.”
Atom hops up on the barstool next to him. “That’s because you don’t have an old lady. I’d take being snowed in with Ember over having to deal with you snoring, farting, degenerates.”
Catfish thumps him in the arm hard enough that he rocks on his stool. “I take offense to that. I’m more than willing to let you be big spoon.”
“Don’t,” Smoke says. “Sturgis, four years ago, that great elephant lumbered into my fucking tent, drunk out of his mind, and tried to cozy up behind me like I was some kind of human blankie.”
Atom laughs. “In my defense, I was very drunk.”
“Yeah, well, hope you hug Ember more gently than you hugged me,” Smoke says. “You gripped onto me like I was an out-of-control hay bale.”
Their banter makes me chuckle.
