Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 148220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
For a while there, I didn’t give a fuck if he killed me. I give a fuck now. And not just for myself. I can’t let him do that to Maxine. But I don’t want to kill him, either.
So I’ll ask him to wait a while. Maybe about eighty years. Then we’ll settle up in a nursing home or some shit.
Before we hit the state line, I contact the Bedlam Butchers to let Handlebar know we’re headed his way. He tags me not long afterward with the address of a truck stop where we’ll meet up the next morning.
Maxine and I get a room nearby and I spend pretty much the whole night inside her. By morning, coffee and pancakes at the truck stop cafe are a real welcome sight. We’re in a booth with a view of the door and the lot, so we get a good look at the brother before he comes in.
“He’s lost a lot of weight,” Maxine says softly.
“Yeah.” He’s such a big, barrel-chested bastard that he’ll never be thin, but in the year since we’ve seen him it’s like any softness he had was pared away, giving his bearded face a rawboned look. “A giant fucking hole eating at him.”
She sighs heavily, then nudges my side—and it takes me a second to realize that she wants me to scoot out of the booth so she can get past me. I always put her in the seat next to the wall so I can protect her with my body if I need to, and it isn’t easy letting her out when it feels like a threat is approaching. But she wasn’t just my angel.
And Handlebar wasn’t expecting to see her here. He’s a few tables away when the scowl he’s wearing drops away into surprise and breaks into a huge grin. “Cherry! Holy fuck! Get over here, girl.”
She throws a hug around his waist and he gives her a good squeeze in return, while over her head he’s measuring me up and down—and stopping at the wedding band on my left hand, eyes narrowing. Then glancing at her ring, too, when she takes his hand and leads him to our table, saying she’s not Cherry anymore.
“Maxine, huh?” Handlebar says, taking the seat opposite. “And you look real fucking good. Freedom suits you.”
“I think so, too.” She grins at him and slides in beside me. “And I know you don’t appreciate bullshit, so I’ll just say it: You look like you’re still going through hell.”
“Then I look how I feel. Probably because I don’t have a pretty nurse making me take my vitamins anymore.”
“I’m sorry. I miss Crash, too.” Maxine reaches across the table to take his hand. “How is his mangy cat?”
His mouth quirks. “Had a mangy litter a month ago. You want a kitten?”
“We already have a dog who’s the equivalent of ten cats biting an electric wire.”
“For the best. I keep asking if people want them, but I’ll never fucking give those kittens away. Some days, I figure that damn cat’s the only reason I’m still here.” His gaze moves over to me but he’s still talking to her. “You married this asshole?”
She smiles. “I did.”
“He treating you right?”
“So right.”
“Fuck. I was hoping you’d say otherwise, because I’m just looking for an excuse.” Now he’s addressing me. “But I don’t need an excuse, do I?”
Not when I can still feel Crash’s spine popping apart in my hands. “You don’t.”
“I figured you were coming to settle up, not to tug at my heartstrings.”
“I’m here to talk about that, too. But also that we found Papa.”
He goes still. “You put him in the ground yet?”
“Not yet. We’re hoping you’ll join us.”
Then I shut my mouth as the waitress swings by to give our coffee a warm up and take Handlebar’s order. When she leaves again, Maxine asks quietly, “Settle what up?”
Her troubled gaze is going from Handlebar’s face to mine, and despite her asking, I can tell that she knows what it means. She knows damn well.
“Well, it’s pretty fucking simple,” Handlebar says, sitting back. “He killed my ride partner. And I know the reason he did it. Saving his sister. I understand that real damn well. But it doesn’t fucking matter. So at some point, we settle up. And one of us won’t get up again.”
Maxine’s eyes are real bright and glittering with tears. “But—”
“No, angel,” I tell her gently. “He’s right. And this is between me and him.”
“And between you and Crash,” Handlebar adds with a rough catch in his voice. “Which makes it not so fucking simple anymore. If you’d showed up a year ago, I’d have already put that bullet in your head. But now I’ve had a long damn time to think on it.”
“Think on what?” Because it still seems pretty fucking simple to me.