He didn’t need to catch a DUI, or wreck his Night Train, which cost him a small fortune, and he definitely didn’t need to break his brain worse than it already was, by splitting his melon open on unforgiving pavement.
He flicked the ashes off the joint he was smoking and tucked it between his lips once more. With a deep inhale, he held the hit as long as he could, the burn filling his lungs.
He released it when his body began to fight for oxygen and watched the white stream shoot toward the ceiling, eventually the smoke particles scattering and disappearing.
He lifted the half-empty bottle of Jack from where it had been propped on his thigh and tipped it to lips, the whiskey causing a different type of burn to settle in his gut.
After two long pulls on the bottle, he set it down on the wide wood-plank floor next to the bus bench, and scrubbed his face with his hands.
He ran the last two hours over in his mind again. What he’d done, what he’d seen. What he might have missed.
He was disappointed he didn’t have the chance to grab another Shirley tonight. Even though the urge to draw blood was there, the right opportunity hadn’t been. It hadn’t been safe enough to remain undetected. To sneak in, to sneak out, leaving one less Shirley on the Earth.
Tonight, too many armed hillbillies were set up around the main compound’s perimeter. The clan only had ten men left—that he knew of—and half of those had been guarding the first clearing.
Shade figured they’d upped their security since their men were either being found bled-out in the woods or simply gone.
They were now fully aware that they were being hunted.
Shade was pretty fucking sure they also knew by who.
That made the Fury vulnerable. Like he warned Trip and Judge, backlash was inevitable. When and where? He didn’t fucking know.
But it was one reason he’d insisted on following Cassie to Daisy’s school the other day. Why he’d also waited outside the pediatrician’s office until they were done so he could tail them home.
The club didn’t have enough men to put one on every woman and child, and it would be smart if Trip would work harder on bringing in more prospects just for that reason alone.
One problem with any new prospects would be knowing if they were reliable and trustworthy. The club had no initial way to test their loyalty. It would also be more mouths to feed and house while trying to figure out if they were a good fit.
Only one room in the bunkhouse was set up for prospects and it included three bunkbeds to house six recruits. While there were two empty private rooms with bathrooms available right now, no one got those until that room was earned by being patched in. The two prospects they had now, Tater Tot and Possum, were only recently recruited and it would be a long while before their membership would be voted on. They were also both young as fuck.
A little dumb, too.
But they were extra hands at Crazy Pete’s and extra eyes when the club needed them. The Fury just needed more. He’d leave that shit to the exec committee and just continue to do what he was told.
He was good with that.
What didn’t sit well with him was what Chelle discovered Tuesday night during his lesson.
They had sat at her kitchen table as she did her best to teach him to read using books and a computer program for kids.
Fucking young kids.
Almost two hours later, after frustration from her, frustration from him, he was ready to give up and walk out. She had a lot of fucking patience but, by the end, her patience had been thoroughly tested.
They got nowhere.
Just what he feared. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to learn, but his brain was broken.
Finally, he thanked her for trying and told her to contact him when she had more scratch for painting. Before he could get up, she had latched onto his arm and yanked him back into his seat.
He could see the wheels turning in her head as she pursed her lips and searched his face.
When she only stared at him for the longest time, it started to freak him out. “What?”
“I think I know why you’re struggling.”
At least one of them did.
He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or scared at that announcement. Or a little of both.
She pulled up a website on her laptop, pointed some things out to him, asked him some questions and after he answered, she got quiet.
Again, he could see her mental wheels turning. Her chewing on her bottom lip didn’t help the burn in his gut.
He knew his brain wasn’t normal, so he expected her to tell him something he already knew.