Page 446 of Hell Hath No Fury
CHAPTER FIVE
Duke
I woke up unaware of the time or my current location. For a moment, the unmistakable sound of men snoring made me think I was in an army barracks somewhere, but the familiar pain in my leg reminded me those days were behind me. As I opened my eyes, the light stung them like holy water on a vampire which told me two things. It was daytime, and I was hungover.
“Shit,” I seethed as I struggled to read my watch through my blurred vision.
“Good morning, soldier,” Cutter said, placing a strong-smelling cup of coffee on the floor next to where I lay.
“Where the hell am I?” I asked.
“You tell me, soldier boy. You chose our accommodations last night,” Cutter replied.
I sat up and looked to find myself inside what appeared to be a church basement. Posters containing the Serenity Prayer and the twelve steps of Alcoholics Anonymous adorned the walls along with pictures of Jesus that made him look more like the third long lost member of Loggins and Messina than a Middle Eastern Jew. Cutter had clearly found the coffee maker, but I was starting to think we should be looking for an exit. Cutter must have read this on my face.
“Relax. The preacher already came downstairs to find all us bears sleeping in his bed and eating his porridge.”
“Oh, yeah? How’d he take that?”
“He was cool. He just asked that we clean up and turn the lights off when we leave. To be honest, I think he was just glad we weren’t here to rob the church.”
“Whyarewe here?” I asked, taking a sip from the Styrofoam cup.
“Since we were unable to sell our merchandise last night, we were a little light on cash, so we sought accommodations within this holy place.”
“My head feels like we had money to drink.”
“That we did, Duke,” Warthog shouted before passing out again.
“It was your idea to crash here, and a fine idea it turned out to be,” Cutter said as I rose to my feet. “You’re a standup guy and we’d love to have you prospect as a member of the Burning Saints any time you’re interested.”
“I appreciate that,” I replied.
“Where you headed now?” he asked.
“I should probably be heading home to Savannah, but I think I’ll stick around Atlanta for just a little while longer.”
“That wouldn’t have anything to do with that little southern belle you were talking to outside the police station last night, would it?”
“My answer to that will depend on whether or not she gives me the time day. If I can even find her again.”
Cutter laughed and we shook hands. “Well, if Savannah is everything you say it is, we’d love to come check it out.”
“Anytime, brother. You’ve got my number. Don’t be afraid to use it.”
“We owe you one for getting us outta jail. I still don’t know how you managed that, but we’re in your debt.”
With that, I said goodbye to the other conscious Burning Saints and headed out to my bike.
* * *
Pearl
After church, I strolled along the downtown shops and cafes per my normal routine. As much as I craved spontaneity, I was a creature of habit, and window shopping on Sundays was part of that routine. My predictability was one of the reasons my parents had such an easy time getting me to do what they wanted me to do. They had to use little to no imagination when anticipating what my next move might be. Academically, I threw them a little curveball by majoring in a field I was passionate about, but so far, I’d managed to do absolutely bupkis with my degree and wondered if my parents’ influence was slowly poisoning my chance at an independent life.
I stopped in front of a bookstore and was peering through the large display window when I heard a deep voice from behind.
“Good morning, Pearl.”
