Page 87 of Rest In Pink

Faye blinked and was about to say something, but Pete twitched her elbow to keep her quiet.

“We can protect you, Faye,” I said, trying a different approach.

“She doesn’t need your protection,” Pete said.

I laughed. “You guys couldn’t keep Mickey from burning down your own clubhouse in Cincinnati. Think on it, Faye.”

“Get the fuck out of my house!” Faye yelled.

“It’s not your house,” I said. “It’s Margot’s. And she’s not going to be happy with what you’ve done to it. Or how you’re trying to take her kid.”

“What?” Pete was startled.

“And panicking right now is not a good look for you,” Rain threw in.

“Faye?” Pete said. “What about the kid?”

She looked back at him, her face rigid, and I realized it wasn’t anger, it was fear, maybe that Peri was somehow tied up with Mickey.

“Don’t go near Peri again,” I said.

She transferred those haunted eyes to me. “Do you know how fucking sick I am of men telling me what to do? Get out.”

I looked at Pete. “If she tries to take that kid again, I’m coming for you. Then her.”

“I’ve got nothing to do with that,” Pete said. “That’s her family thing.”

“I think her family thing,” I said, “has something to do with the Iron Wolves. This is all a big stinking pile of shit.”

“Get out,” Faye said, but there was none of her earlier fury. She was a tired woman caught between forces beyond her.

“Time for you to go,” Pete said, pointing toward the door. “Don’t come back.”

“Not your house, Pete,” Rain said.

“Not yours, either, Faye,” I added.

But we left, because the dynamic between Pete and Faye was different. We wouldn’t get more from either of them. What they got from each other after we were gone was another story.

* * *

“That went well,” Rain commented as she carefully laid her small towel over her lap and retrieved another doughnut. She had one of those high-functioning metabolisms that absorbed food and burned it almost as quickly. She’d been a semi-legend in the battalion for scrounging food and smothering the awful army rations with various hot sauces and other condiments and eating local indigenous food at every opportunity.

“How often did Faye visit Mickey in prison?” I asked Rain.

“No idea,” she said. “I made that up. But I uncovered a truth. Pete didn’t seem surprised by it. So, Faye was making contact with Micket for the Wolves.”

“If she was,” I said, “she was lying to Mickey if he thought he could take over when he got out.”

“That’s why Faye is fucked.” Rain checked for the little hole in the donut where they injected the jelly, then carefully turned that up to control the splatter. “I wouldn’t be Faye Blue right now for all the money in the world.” She bit down.

I’d never wanted to be Faye Blue, but I knew what she meant. Faye was terrified and she was living with an Iron Wolf. What was it they said about grabbing a wolf by the ears? You dare not let go, but you can’t hold on?

And it looked like her brother was coming for her, too. Two wolves.

“We need to talk to Skye eventually,” I said and put the truck in gear.

We rolled down Factory Road, each lost in their thoughts, Rain also in her donut.

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