Aiden chuckled. "It's not like you to be nervous."
"What do you know about what I'm like?" she snapped. She was sorry instantly, yet irritated by how chastened he looked. Couldn't he fight back? "I'm sorry," she said. "But I don't think it's safe."
He tried to pull her down with him again, unwilling to give up, but the spell was broken, leaving her frustrated and angry. "I have to get home," she lied, removing his hands and standing up. "My mother will worry."
"Oh, man," Aiden said. He climbed awkwardly to his feet, adjusting his clothes. "All right," he grumbled, and she saw him touch his pocket briefly as if bidding his plans goodbye.
Damn. Damn. Damn, she thought.
"What do you mean, tell Gabriel?" Vivian demanded.
It was two in the morning and Rudy had just come home. Esmé was still out the Moon knew where.
"Why him? He hasn't won the Ordeal yet." She had decided not to keep quiet if she saw things going wrong again, but she hadn't expected to tell Gabriel.
Rudy paced the living room. His sturdy compact form and firm stride should have been comforting. "And what did you expect me to do?"
"Talk to Astrid. Make her stop."
Rudy laughed bitterly. "That'll be the day."
"So why would she listen to Gabriel, then?" Vivian asked.
"Because she respects him."
"Because she wants to screw him, you mean."
Rudy stared her down with piercing gray eyes that made her feel ashamed. "She respects him because she's afraid of him. Power's the only thing Astrid understands. She isn't sure how far he'll go." He paused. "And neither am I."
"Then why tell him?"
"As far as I can see, he's the only option we've got right now. We can't use a leader who wants to rule with his brains but not his teeth."
Vivian rose to her feet. "My father led with his brains; you mean he wasn't a good leader?"
Rudy ran a callused hand through his hair. His eyes looked sad. "Your father was the best leader we could have had for the time we had him, but this is a time of unrest. We need a leader who understands the power of his jaws."
"I'm tired of violence."
Rudy nodded. "But it doesn't matter what we're tired of, we've got it all the same. You would have never moved the Five so quietly out of West Virginia if Gabriel hadn't beat the sass out of them."
Yeah, thought Vivian. He'd taken them on in the charred ruins of the inn yard when they were set on waging a stupid, hopeless war against the town. Rafe was knocked silly and the others bloodied, but not a scratch on Gabriel. He'd threatened to kill any one of them that moved three paces from the convoy going to Maryland. Smeared with ashes, he'd strutted afterward and she'd hated him for it, even though she'd have beaten the Five herself if she could have. Her father was barely dead, and Gabriel was taking control. He wasn't a leader; her father was a leader. Her father had dignity.
"And when you all arrived," Rudy continued, "Gabriel was one of the first to get a job and put all his money toward getting others settled while he crashed on people's floors or in the woods."
And boy did he smell like it, she thought. Nothing like a welder with no place to bathe. "So you're gonna support Gabriel at the Ordeal and not go for it yourself," she said.
"Yeah, guess so. Now, time for bed, babe. Too late to do anything tonight."
Gabriel's black-and-silver motorcycle was in the parking lot of Tooley's bar the next night, exactly as Rudy had guessed. Rudy went in to find him while Vivian waited outside, her arms folded, her foot tapping.
A pair of bikers in cut-off denim jackets over bare chests came out of the bar. The tall one did a double take on her. He grabbed his crotch and issued her a very specific invitation. The other one laughed as if that was the funniest joke he'd ever heard, and his gut jiggled.
She gave them the finger.
"Hey, you're not too friendly," the tall biker complained, changing direction to walk slowly toward her. The smile had left his face. "Ain't you got no respect?"
His buddy trailed him. His grin was mean.