Prose Before Bros

by Smartypants Romance

  Christ, Tim was an idiot.

  “Speaking of cash,” Catfish said, with a sly grin, “heard you were at Genie’s with Maddy’s girl.”

  Drill didn’t respond. He hadn’t seen any Wraiths in the crowd, but he hadn’t looked really hard. And in Green Valley, gossip was faster than the damned internet.

  “So? Was it true?” Catfish goaded. “Heard you guys got plenty close.”

  Drill sighed.

  “Man. So she’s banging both Blount kids?”

  Drill struggled to restrain himself from reaching over the desk and wrapping his hands around his old friend’s throat. “She’s not banging Maddy,” he said, then added, “or me. She’s Maddy’s best friend from school. They’re like sisters.” He wasn’t sure why he was justifying this, or why it was any of Catfish’s goddamned business. But he didn’t like the implications, that Thuy might somehow be… God, he didn’t know. A slut? Someone who was working the Blount family?

  Catfish’s eyes narrowed as he picked up on Drill’s discontent. “You going soft on me, Drill?” he asked, in a voice that was both quiet and dangerous.

  “No,” Drill said quickly. Maybe too quickly. Catfish did not look convinced.

  “She the reason you didn’t rough up Frank Helms?”

  Maybe. “No,” Drill said. Probably.

  Catfish’s neck muscles tensed, and he twisted his head, right to left, as if trying to relieve that tension. “I can’t have you losing track of what’s important here,” he said. “Especially not for a piece of ass. Got it?”

  Drill bristled. She’s not just a piece of ass!

  But that would only prove Catfish’s point. The last thing he needed was Catfish digging deeper, taking more of a personal interest in Thuy and Maddy. Or, even worse, trying to put Timothy King on the case.

  Drill nodded curtly.

  “Get the cash from Frank,” Catfish reiterated. “Get the girls to sell. If you think fucking your sister’s friend is gonna get it done, then go ahead, but don’t get sidetracked. Goddammit, we’ve got to get the Wraiths back in line, and I can’t do that if we don’t have money — and if people see my top lieutenant acting like a pussy.”

  Drill nodded, clenching his teeth. “Got it,” he finally said, when it looked like Catfish wanted a response.

  Drill walked out of the office, feeling Catfish’s stare on him. Some of the other bikers were looking at him curiously, as well. He stalked past them, heading out the doors to his bike. He strapped on his helmet, then straddled the motorcycle, gunning the engine.

  He wanted to shout. Break something. Or beat the shit out of someone. Timothy King would be a good start.

  But right now, he was just going to head home, and try to figure out how to keep Catfish away from Maddy and Thuy, until he could get them out of the state for good.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  It was Thuy’s first day on the job. She wasn’t nervous, necessarily, but she did want to make a good impression. Which meant she was wearing a blouse and a skirt, similar to what Julianne had worn on their first meeting. Her black hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She was wearing high heels only because she hadn’t thought to pack low ones. Next month, when she went back to pack up the apartment and get everything ready for the move, she’d bring the rest of her clothes. Fortunately, she and Maddy had friends from the library and the farmer’s market who were willing to help them pack up one of those rented shipping pods and get it ready to go.

  It’s real, she marveled. She was really moving to a farm, of all things. And working at the local small-town library. And she was about to be an aunt.

  It was a lot.

  Julianne emerged from the back room, tapping her watch. “It’s been an hour,” she said, her tone low but sharp. “You need to tell those teens to get off the computers now.”

  Thuy nodded, even though she felt a little discomfited. There wasn’t anybody waiting for the computers that she could see, which was a bit surprising. And every library she’d been to had software that allowed users to put in their library card number, and it would automatically cut them off at an hour. That allowed the library to track usage and user data, which would be helpful in future funding discussions.

  She walked up to the trio, the same ones who were there the first time she’d entered the library. “Time’s up,” she said.

  They all groaned. “Man,” the kid with wheat-colored hair said, turning off his game reluctantly. “That was my highest count ever!”

  The girl shut off her game, as well, while the redhead looked on.

  “Sorry,” Thuy said. “That’s the rules. Tell you what, though; I’ll see if I can get the third computer fixed, so you all can play next time. Okay?”

  “That’d be awesome,” the girl enthused. Then she cracked her gum. “I’m Ginny, by the way.”

  “Hi, Ginny. I’m Thuy.”

  Ginny looked at the boys, who nodded their greetings. “I’m Kevin,” the redhead said, “and this is Jeremy.”

  “Nice to meet you both,” Thuy said automatically.

  “Hey,” Kevin said, “are you the one who put up the flyer about needing help with cattle?”

  “Yes. Are you interested?” Please, be interested.

  “Depends.” For a second, Kevin leaned back, looking much older than his teen years. He looked like a middle-aged horse trader. “I’d need at least five dollars more than you’re offering per hour, for one thing.”

  Thuy frowned. She wasn’t sure what the going rate was for farm labor, but she trusted that Maddy did. “That seems a little steep.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t have a car, so I’d be riding my bike or my horse to get to your farm,” he explained.

  Thuy bit her lip. That made sense. They hadn’t had any takers yet, but… “I need to talk about it with Maddy. It’s her farm,” she explained.

  Kevin nodded, then his expression turned crafty. “I will make a deal, though. I’ll take the price you’re offering — if you figure out a way to get us more computer time.”

  Thuy grinned. Sneaky devil. “That is out of my hands,” Thuy said.

  “You can at least talk to someone, right?” Ginny pleaded. “They won’t listen to us because they think we’re just kids.”

  Thuy sighed, knowing that Ginny was probably right; it was hard for people to listen to teens. “I’ll see what I can do,” she said. “But no promises.”

  “Okay, then.” Kevin looked satisfied.

  “Why don’t you guys check out some books while you’re here?” Thuy asked.

  They looked at each other. “We told you,” Jeremy said. “There aren’t any books for us here.”

  “They could definitely have more YA books,” Thuy agreed, making a mental note to look into getting some donations. “But I’m sure there are some books that you’d enjoy. What do you guys like to watch?”

  “I like Twilight Zone marathons,” Kevin said, with a grin. “They’re total mindfu… uh, they mess with your mind.”

  Thuy smirked at the near miss.

  “I like stuff that’s funny, but paranormal. Like Supernatural,” Ginny said, then made a face when the boys laughed. “Shut up.”

  “You just like the guys,” Kevin said, rolling his eyes.

  “I don’t watch TV. I like video games,” Jeremy said shyly. “I just watch Youtube walkthroughs and Twitch streams when I get the chance. Someday, I’d like to write my own game.”

  Thuy nodded slowly. “Come on.”

  With the three kids in tow, she brought them first to the fiction section. “For you,” she said to Kevin, pulling out a large hardback, “the collected short stories of Philip K. Dick.”

  They snickered.

  “Grow up,” Thuy said with a grin. Then she moved to the end of the row. “For you, Ginny, Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files. Urban Fantasy. He’s got a great voice, you’ll love him.”

  Then she walked them to the non-fiction section. “It’s not the most up-to-date, but there’s something on Python coding he
re that ought to get you started,” she said to Jeremy. “I’ll look into getting an interlibrary loan for something more recent. Oh, and if you’ve got a Steam account, you might look into getting Undertale. It’s an indie game that people either love or hate. It’s weird, but I think you’ll like it, and it might give you ideas on how to create your own game.”

  The three teens looked at her with surprise. “This is really cool,” Ginny said. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  She watched as they trooped towards the circulation desk, where Julianne was waiting with a disapproving frown.

  “Here I thought I was special,” a low voice said behind her.

  She spun, startled, to find Drill standing behind her in the stacks, a small grin on his face.

  “I thought you were just giving me book recommendations,” he said. “Now I find you’re suggesting books all over town.”

  “What can I say? I’m a book hussy,” she whispered back. His low chuckle ran over her skin like mink, and she suppressed a shiver.

  That kiss.

  She’d been trying not to think about the kiss since it had happened, and had largely failed. The memory, and accompanying sensations, tended to creep up on her at unwanted moments, like in the shower, or during breakfast, or when she was trying to focus on Maddy’s lectures about soil health and the importance of the farmer’s almanac. Now that he was in front of her, larger than life, of course, her hormones were clamoring for attention.

  “What are you doing here?” she forced herself to ask.

  “You said I should read a book,” he said. “So, I thought I’d come to the place where the books are.”

  She wanted to drag him to a quiet corner and just lick him. She tamped down the urge. “I’m working,” she said, trying to sound stern and failing miserably.

  “I know. You’re a librarian,” he said. “Maybe you could help me… find that book you were talking about?”

  He was standing too close. Her nerves were going haywire, with conflicting impulses of pushing him away and climbing him like a jungle gym. She swallowed hard.

  “Let’s see,” she said, finally getting her feet to move. She took him to the fiction section. “Rothfuss, Rothfuss,” she said under her breath, then shook her head. “Sorry. Looks like we don’t have the book here.”

  He put a hand on either side of her, trapping her against the bookshelves. “Well. What should I do now?” he murmured, his eyes intent on her.

  Out of sheer self-preservation, she ducked, heading for the circulation desk. “I’ll see if it’s checked out,” she said quickly, heading for the computer. He followed her. Julianne was checking the teens’ books out on one computer, so she went to the other, typing quickly.

  “It… looks like we don’t have that book,” she said, feeling genuinely sorry. “Maybe we have interlibrary loans, though?”

  “I really wanted to get started now.” His tone made it sound like he had more than reading in mind.

  “Well, you could always buy a copy,” she suggested. “If you’ve got an ereader — or a smartphone — you can always buy the eBook copy. Then you wouldn’t even have to wait for it.”

  “I like that.” His grin was sly, and sexy as hell. “I’m into instant gratification.”

  Oh, I’ll just bet you are.

  She took a small piece of scratch paper, the type that people wrote call numbers down on, and wrote the title and author on it. “Good luck,” she said.

  “I’ll be seeing you soon,” he said. “To tell you how it went.”

  “Okay. Goodbye.” She waited until he walked out the doors, and she let out a breath. That man, she thought.

  Julianne surveyed her. “Is that going to be a problem?”

  “Is what going to be a problem?” Thuy asked.

  Julianne’s eyebrow went up, and she looked towards the door, towards Drill’s retreating figure.

  “You mean him?” Thuy shook her head. “No. He’s my roommate’s brother, and he’s, um, interested in reading new books.”

  She didn’t know if she sold it, but Julianne let out a small “humph” and let it slide.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Drill rode out to Knoxville late that afternoon. He hadn’t planned on visiting Frank, but since Catfish had dropped the news on him on Saturday, the thought of Frank in the hospital had been preying on his mind. He’d distracted himself by stopping by the library and seeing Thuy, but that had made him feel only temporarily better. What he ought to be doing was talking to Maddy, getting her to see reason and sell the damned farm, not flirting up a storm with Maddy’s best friend. What he really ought to be doing was going out and finding new recruits for the Wraiths, or maybe shaking down more gamblers and loans.

  But instead, he was an hour away, pulling into the visitor’s lot at the hospital, ready to see a man who still owed the Wraiths money.

  Because he felt guilty.

  He frowned. He didn’t used to feel guilty. When he was young, he took on every challenge like it was a quest, a way to prove himself. He saw everybody he beat the shit out of as a personal enemy. Anyone who stood against the Wraiths stood against his brothers and himself. It was a matter of… well, honor, for lack of a better term.

  As he got into his twenties, it became more of a business. He lost some of that youthful zeal. Some fucked-up things had happened, but he knew it all balanced out in the end. The Wraiths weren’t perfect. But hell, who was, right? He certainly wasn’t.

  Then Lube “disappeared.” And he felt a little wary. Not scared, exactly. But not exactly comforted, either. He knew better than to get on Razor’s bad side, or even Razor’s old lady, Christine. He was by then a trusted lieutenant. He knew where the bodies were buried. In some cases, literally.

  That’s when he started going numb. He did the job. He went home. He got up and started all over again.

  Now, at thirty-two, he was more than jaded. Darrell had gone state’s evidence, and Razor was in jail. He’d worked too damned hard to help Catfish establish himself as the new leader of the Wraiths.

  But was it worth it?

  He walked up to the desk, asking the nurse if he could visit Frank Helms. The nurse looked at him cautiously, and he realized that he looked like a biker and that Frank had obviously taken a beating. She finally cleared her throat and directed him to Frank’s room.

  He thought about getting something. He hadn’t visited anybody in a hospital. The occasional Wraith had been hospitalized, but since he’d usually put them there, he thought visiting was pointless. Maybe I should grab him a magazine?

  Finally, jamming his hands into his jacket pockets, he walked into Frank’s room.

  There was another patient in the room, sleeping with deep, wheezing breaths. Frank was on the other side of the curtain. Drill walked over, pulling the curtain back a little.

  Frank looked like shit. His face was a mish-mash of blue, purple and green, his eyes nearly swollen shut. His right arm was in a cast, as was most of his left leg. He was hooked up to a machine that monitored his heart rate.

  “Hey,” Drill said, in a low voice.

  Frank took a second to focus on him. Then, suddenly, his heart rate went up.

  “I didn’t say anything,” Frank said quickly. “I swear, I didn’t say anything!”

  The monitor’s beeping was going fast. Drill looked back at the door. “No! No. It’s all right, it’s fine. I’m not here because of the Wraiths.”

  A tear welled out of Frank’s eye, tracking down his marred cheek. “You said I had until Monday,” he said.

  Drill sighed. “I did,” he said. “This is my fault. I should’ve talked to Catfish sooner, cut this off. I didn’t know he was going to send somebody else.”

  “He… he broke my knee,” Frank rasped. “My arm. He burned me.”

  Drill winced.

  “How the hell am I supposed to work the farm now? How am I supposed to pay you back?”

  Guilt almost drove Drill to his knees. “This
never should’ve happened,” Drill said sharply.

  A nurse came in, looking at Drill with both anger and trepidation. “Is everything all right, Mr. Helms?” she asked, her eyes never leaving Drill.

  “Yes. Thanks,” Frank said, his voice sounding thin as paper.

  The nurse sent Drill another scowl, then she turned and left.

  Drill took in a deep breath, inhaling the antiseptic smell of the hospital. Then he let it out slowly. “You’re in for nearly seven grand, right?”

  Frank nodded, then winced, making a pained sound. “Yeah. Thereabouts.”

  “As of now, it’s taken care of.”

  Frank stared at him blankly. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I’m paying it off. Okay?” Drill held up a hand when Frank’s mouth dropped open a little. “If I’d have given you the beating you earned, you’d be in pain, but you’d be at home, figuring out a way to pay off your debt. Not dealing with all this shit. This is wrong.”

  Frank let out a hoarse laugh. “You’ve got a weird sense of right and wrong, Drill.”

  “You knew it was stupid to take a loan from a biker gang, pal,” Drill said dryly. “Kinda the pot calling the kettle, huh?”

  Frank let out a low sigh. “This gets me out from the club’s loan,” he said. “But what am I gonna do about the farm?”

  “I can’t help you there,” Drill admitted. “Sorry, man. This is gonna wipe out my savings as it is. Best I can do.”

  Frank nodded, a little movement. Then he looked at Drill. “Thanks, man. You don’t have to do this, but I’m damned grateful you are.”

  “Steer clear of the Wraiths from here on.”

  “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

  Drill nodded, then stood up. “Hang in there,” he said, feeling helpless. He turned and left.

  He’d go square things away with Dirty Dave. He had about eight grand socked away… it ate away most of it, but it would be worth it. Already, his chest felt a little lighter.

  He just had to make sure that they didn’t go after Frank, thinking he’d found some kind of pot of gold. It would be just like that jackass Timothy King to try and rob Frank after putting him in this position.