Page 100 of Queen of Anarchy (Dirty Broken Savages 2)

Everyone laughs their asses off at that, and I throw a dumpling at him. It hits him in the shoulder and falls to the floor, and before he can grab it up and eat it, Dog has already lunged for it and has it in his mouth.

“Anyway,” Knox continues. “The girl is fucking starry-eyed over this shit. She looks like she’s about to cream her damn pants because Ash flipped a coin. Then he goes to put one foot up on the edge of the fountain for some reason. To show off his dick, I dunno. But then he slips and falls right the fuck in.”

River is dying laughing, and even Priest is grinning, so I laugh along with them, holding up my hands with my palms out.

“Look, I wasn’t always the smooth person I am now,” I say. “And let’s not act like I’m the only one who’s looked like an idiot in front of a woman before. Gage.”

River is practically bouncing in her seat, wanting more of these kinds of stories, clearly.

So we tell her. We trade stories about all kinds of dumb shit, making each other laugh. It’s a nice change from all the serious, life or death crap we’ve been dealing with lately, and it feels lighter in the house than it has in practically forever.

At one point, I pull out my cards and start doing tricks, just fucking around like I usually do while we talk. It feels good to flip them in my hands, to pick a card and shuffle and then have that card come back up later.

My throwing knives are on the coffee table at one end, and I grab one, flipping it in my hands while Gage tells a story of his own.

River watches me while I do it, and I can feel her eyes on me, taking it all in.

“I want to try,” she says when Gage finishes, nodding to the blades.

“Okay,” I tell her, jerking my chin at them. “Go ahead. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

She picks one up and balances it in her hand for a second, getting used to the heft of it. It’s lighter than the knives she’s used to, probably, but that doesn’t seem to be an issue for her.

She mimics the motion she’s seen me do before and throws the knife at the wall on the far side of the room, aiming so that the blade sticks into the plaster deep enough to keep it in place.

“Not bad.” I purse my lips appreciatively. “But I should have known you’d be good with your hands.”

I wink at her, and she snorts and grabs two more knives from the table. Her eyes narrow as she throws one, then the other. She tries to make a line with the knives, ending up with something only a little wonky. It’s really not that bad for a first try.

“You need something to aim for,” Knox says, getting up from his seat. “So you can really practice.”

“You want her to throw knives at you?” My brows shoot up, and Knox shrugs.

“She’s got a steady hand. She’ll be fine.”

“It’s notherI’m worried about.”

He just grins and yanks the knives out of the wall, offering them back to River with a flourish before going to stand in front of it. It’s like what River did for me back in the early days of her living with us, and we all watch, the room getting quiet.

River stands up and shifts her balance, getting her posture right before she throws. She does pretty well, actually, getting most of them in an outline outside his body, a little too far to be really impressive, but still good for her first time.

Except with the last one.

She overcorrects with the final knife, and it comes in too close to Knox’s body, slicing his arm before embedding in the wall.

“Fuck!” Knox’s eyes go wide as blood wells from the gash. Then he bursts out laughing.

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