Page 82 of Sinful
"That's not what I asked."
I lean against the wall, close my eyes. "It's complicated."
"It's always complicated. That's why we don't do it." He pauses. "You know what you are, right? You're a Nomad. You don't stay places. You don't build attachments. That's not judgment—that's just who you are. Who you've been for eighteen years."
"I know what I am."
"Do you? Because from where I'm sitting, it sounds like you're forgetting." Another pause. "She pretty?"
"What?"
"The girl. She pretty? That why you're losing your head?"
"I'm not losing my head."
"Then come home. Alliance is set. You've done what you came to do. Let Runes handle the rest."
I should agree, should say yeah, I'll be back in a few days, a week tops.
Instead I say something totally different. "I need to see this through. Make sure the coordinated strikes actually happen. Can't do that from Texas."
"You can do it from a phone. That's what phones are for."
"Phantom—"
"Youlikeher." It's not a question. "This girl—Ivar's daughter—you like her. And that's why you're not coming home."
I don't answer. Can't.
"Bravos, listen to me. I've known you since you prospected. I know what the fire did to you. I know why you're a Nomad." His voice gentles slightly. "But you can't outrun grief forever. Eventually you have to stop moving and deal with it."
"I've dealt with it."
"No. You've avoided it. There's a difference." He sighs. "Look. I'm not telling you what to do with your personal life. You're a grown man. But I am telling you that you represent Shotgun Saints. And if you're getting involved with someone connected to anotherclub—especially one where the Prez and I have bad blood—it complicates things."
"I understand."
"I hope you do. Because I like you, Bravos. You're solid. Reliable. But I can't have a Nomad who's not actually nomadic anymore. If you're going to stay somewhere, then you need to prospect for that club. Not ours."
The words hit like a punch to the gut.
He's right and I know he's right.
But the thought of leaving Shotgun Saints—the only family I've had since the fire—feels wrong too.
"I'll handle it," I say finally. "Keep things professional. Focus on the alliance."
"Good." Phantom doesn't sound convinced. "Keep me updated. And Bravos? Whatever you're feeling—think hard before you act on it. Because once you cross that line, you can't uncross it."
"Yeah. I know."
He hangs up.
I stand there in the parking lot watching the sky lighten,
Phantom's words echoing in my head.
You're a Nomad. That means you come home.
