I hate this. I hate this.
Catfish seemed proud, as close to happy as he could get any more, between the strain and struggle of keeping it all together, and the paranoia that it might all be taken away. “I told you it’d work out,” Catfish had said, clapping his hand on Drill’s shoulder. And it seemed to be, for Catfish.
Now, it was Tuesday night. Christmas Eve. At least, it would be for people who celebrated it. He’d heard that there would be drinking at the Dragon, but that was typical for any Tuesday. A few guys had old ladies and little kids, and they might be excused to get presents and shit, but it was more likely they’d stick with the club. Sometimes the strippers wore Santa hats, he remembered.
He stayed home.
He knew Catfish would be pissed, but he couldn’t spend one more night there. Especially not when he pictured Maddy and her boyfriend, and maybe even Thuy, around a fireplace. Unwrapping presents, or drinking cocoa, or eating cookies.
He hadn’t realized he missed that. It had been years since he’d really enjoyed the holidays — not since his mother had died. His father hadn’t tried to make them particularly festive, it only seemed to remind him of the loss of his wife. He’d known his father loved their mother, incredibly so, and had never gotten over being without her.
Now, for the first time, Drill had an inkling of what that felt like.
I wonder if Thuy’s left yet.
Missing her was like a physical pain in his chest. When drinking didn’t work, he’d done the only other thing he could think of, to both distract himself and feel the tiniest bit closer to her.
He read.
The book was getting good — he was over halfway — when there was a knock on his door. He frowned, then his heart jolted.
Maybe it’s Thuy.
He didn’t think about the fact that she didn’t know where he lived. He just got up and opened the door.
Instead, it was the kid, Nick, who stood there with a vape pen. As ever, he looked twitchy. “Why aren’t you at the bar?” he asked. Whined, really.
“Didn’t feel like it.” Drill leveled a sharp look. “I also didn’t realize I needed to report to you, Nick.”
Nick cowered a little. “Timothy needs you there.”
Drill scoffed. “Don’t report to him either.”
“They’re calling a meeting,” Nick said, holding up his hands. “Catfish, I mean. Tim said that there’s gonna be, like, a trial.”
Drill rubbed his hands over his face. “It’s Christmas fucking Eve, Nick. What the hell is he going on about? A trial? For who, for what?”
“I don’t know,” Nick said, sounding peeved. “He just wanted me to round up all the captains and members and stuff. He didn’t say anything else.”
Knowing Tim, the asshole wanted to put on a big show of his authority, as quickly as possible, to get people to fear him. Drill wanted to tell him to fuck himself, but he knew that Catfish would want him to be part of the business. Also, as vice president, he’d be able to keep Tim in check better than anyone.
“Fine,” Drill said, grabbing his jacket.
“Hey,” Nick said, noticing the paperback copy on the table. “You still reading that book?”
“Yeah.”
“So, what happens to that Kvothe guy?” Nick looked like he was trying hard not to seem too interested… and failing miserably.
Drill reluctantly smiled. “I’ll tell you when all this shit is over, okay?”
He just hoped Tim’s power play didn’t take too long. And this is your future, he told himself.
Maybe he would drink again tonight.
Chapter Forty-Seven
It was Tuesday night, what normally would’ve been teen night, but it was also Christmas Eve. The library had canceled teen night because it was closing early, six o’clock rather than the usual nine o’clock. They’d had a little holiday party for the kids that weekend. Thuy wished that they’d stay open the full shift, though. She wanted to see the kids.
She wanted to say goodbye.
After her talk with Drill, and Maddy, and her interaction with Mrs. MacIntyre, she just didn’t see the point in staying. What she was doing was making no difference. She was about to get fired. Her best friend didn’t need her. And the man she’d fallen in love with was barred from seeing her. There really wasn’t any point left in staying.
“Ms. Thuy!”
She looked up from the circulation desk to see Ginny and Jeremy. She smiled. She would miss them. At least she’d get to say goodbye. “Hey, guys,” she said easily. “Where’s Kevin?”
“Don’t know. He got held up.” Ginny’s eyes gleamed. “Merry Christmas!”
She held out a little decorated gift box.
“Oh!” Thuy was surprised. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“You fixed the computer that had been broken all the time,” Jeremy said. “And you’re cool. You’re easy to talk to.”
“Yeah,” Ginny agreed. “And it’s nothing special. I mean, it’s just a little thing. To kind of say ‘thanks’ and all.”
They watched her eagerly. Embarrassed, she opened the box. It had a few little knick-knacks, a painted rock with googly eyes on it that said “LIBRARIANS ROCK”, some wrapped chocolates, and…
She pulled out a little piece of cardboard. “Is this… did you make me my own playing card?”
“Yep.” Jeremy straightened out, blushing a little, but obviously proud. “You introduced us to Magic: The Gathering, so we thought we’d make you your own!”
“See?” Ginny pointed to the stats. “I did the artwork, and Jeremy came up with the description.”
Thuy studied the painted card.
MS. THUY, it said. Ginny had done a very good drawing of her, smiling, looking like she was juggling books with magical powers.
Creature: Librarian
Mana color: Blue (Knowledge)
Powers: Seeking and Matching (because she always helps us find the perfect books!)
Thuy felt her eyes prick with tears. “This is so awesome,” she said, swallowing hard. “Seriously. I’ve never gotten anything so cool.”
The kids looked pleased. “Got any plans for Christmas?”
Thuy shook her head. “Just, um, hanging with my roomie and her boyfriend. Fiancé,” she quickly corrected.
Ginny’s eyes widened. “Father of the baby?” she blurted out, then her cheeks turned red. “Sorry! Sorry. That was rude.”
“No, it’s fine,” Thuy said, clearing her throat. “I, um, I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be staying around, actually.”
“What? Why?” Jeremy quickly protested.
Thuy felt misery bubble up from her chest. “It’s complicated,” she said.
“I wish you’d stay,” Ginny said quietly. “You really listen to us. You’ve made teen night fun, and you help during study hours.”
“You got me started on Python coding,” Jeremy added. “And Kevin really liked the book you recommended.”
“All the kids like the books you recommend,” Ginny said. “Do you have to go?”
Thuy sighed. “I… It might be for the best.”
Ginny looked frustrated. “Now the library’s going to go back to the frickin’ stone age.”
“Ginny!” Jeremy chastised, looking at Thuy. Like I’ve never heard “fricking” before, Thuy thought with a smile.
“No, Jeremy. They didn’t like us hanging out here. They treat the middle-graders like babies, and they never got the good books for us,” Ginny said sharply. “It just feels like they’re missing out, and they don’t even care.”
Jeremy shook his head. “It is what it is,” he said, sounding older and more cynical than his years.
“Excuse me?”
She looked up. “Yes?”
It was Jim Thompson, the man she’d run into the very first day she’d stepped into the library. The one she’d helped on the computer. “Miss… Thuy, is it?”
She nodded, pleased that he’d gotten her name right. Seems
like she was starting to be recognized by some of the regulars, at least.
Too bad she wouldn’t be around to enjoy it.
He held out his hand. “I just wanted to thank you.”
“Thank me?” she said, automatically shaking his hand. “For what?”
“I got the job.” He stood straighter, his eyes alight with gratitude. “After filling in that stupid… sorry, the long form on that computer, they called me and I finally got the job. And I would’ve given up, if it weren’t for you.”
Thuy swallowed hard. “You’re very welcome.”
“I might need to look up a few things. They said they’d send me the employee manual over email. Is that something I can print out here?”
“Absolutely,” she assured him.
“Oh, good.” He looked relieved. “Thanks, again, Miss Thuy.”
She nodded as he walked away.
Libraries were so much more than just a building full of books. Especially in a small town like this, where the broadband was limited and people didn’t have the electronic access that was so often taken for granted in cities. These were good kids. Good people. They just needed some resources, and some guidance. And somebody that was willing to help them get and use the stuff that was out there. Someone who was willing to set up programs, and advocate for them. There was a lot that could be done.
Thuy straightened her shoulders. She hadn’t gotten fired, not yet, but Julianne had been watching her like a vulture, waiting for a corpse to die. And worse, Thuy had rolled over. She’d been cautious, she’d kept her mouth shut.
Well, if she was going to get fired, she might as well get fired on Christmas Eve. Because she wasn’t going to just sit there like a lump anymore. This library could be doing a hell of a lot more, and if they wanted to ignore the needs of their people out of the excuse they were “upholding tradition” and harkening back to a better time… nope. Thuy was going to say her piece. Respectfully, but clearly. And loudly.
She stepped into the back office. Sabrina Owens was quietly loading books on a cart.
“Can you watch the desk, Sabrina?” Thuy asked. “I need to talk to Julianne.”
Sabrina nodded. She was painfully shy, and didn’t talk much, but she was good at her job. She moved to cover circulation.
Thuy walked to Julianne’s office, rapping sharply on the door. Julianne looked up from her paperwork.
“I was just going to go home,” Julianne said. “My grandkids are coming over tomorrow, and we’ve got finishing touches to do for their gifts. Is this important?”
“Yes. I’ll try not to take up too much of your time,” Thuy said, then stopped hedging. “But if I’m going to get fired, I want to talk now.”
Julianne’s eyes widened. “Fired?”
“Or quit,” Thuy said.
The surprise was evident. Julianne sighed, then gestured to the chair opposite her desk.
“Well then,” she said. “I guess you’d better have a seat.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Drill arrived at the bar, and it was crowded. When he walked in, the mood was far from festive. Guys were giving him looks that were either skeptical or disappointed.
What the hell was going on?
He followed Nick, walking past people, headed for the back office. Timothy King stopped him with a hand on his chest. “That’s far enough.”
“Fuck off,” Drill said tiredly. “Where’s Catfish?”
Catfish appeared by his side. “I told you,” he muttered, barely over a whisper. It was ignored by the rest of the group, who were muttering between themselves. “I fucking told you.”
“As enforcer,” Tim said, with puffed-up self-importance, “it’s my job to make sure that the club’s rules and laws are being followed. Drill, it’s been brought to my attention that you’re turning your back on your brotherhood, and I’m here to shut that down.”
Drill’s eyes narrowed. “So it’s me, huh?”
Of course. The little shit wanted the VP position so badly. Actually, he wanted president, but right now, Catfish was bulletproof. If Tim could get one step closer to Catfish’s job, he’d take it — and wait until he could make his move for the top spot.
“Is it true that you hit one of your brothers when he was carrying out an assignment given to him by the president of this club?” Tim sounded like he was trying to be on Law & Order. He sounded like an idiot.
“You mean, did I hit Sledgehammer? Yeah.” Drill shrugged. “Fuck. Sledgehammer hit Burro last Saturday night, I don’t see you dragging his ass up here.”
“He was cheating at poker!” Sledgehammer yelped. Burro grumbled, raising a fist.
“Sledge was on assignment,” Timothy pointed out, undeterred. “You threatened him. And you told Nick to ignore a direct command from Catfish.”
There was mumbling. Drill felt sweat trickle down his back. Shit.
Catfish was right. This was a problem.
He had to distract them from Maddy and Thuy, now. “Catfish and I discussed it,” he said. “And I was made V.P. after it, so it isn’t that big a deal.”
“So, who’s prez now, him or you?” Tim said.
“He is,” Drill said quickly. He wasn’t jumping on that landmine. But he looked over to see Catfish grimace.
Shit, shit, shit. Now Tim was setting it up as a challenge to Catfish’s authority. Which meant Catfish had to let this play out, no matter what happened to Drill.
“What, exactly, is your problem?” Drill said, getting in Tim’s face.
Tim shoved him back a step. “My problem,” Tim said, his eyes bulging slightly, “is that you seem to be losing faith and losing focus. We’re your brothers. You don’t have any family but us. But instead, you let your sister,” and he practically spat the word out, “keep that family farm of yours. When we all know damned well you should be getting cash for that shit.”
“You’ve gone soft!” somebody — Burro? — yelled out.
Drill felt adrenaline start to flood his system. He needed to get a grip on this situation, and fast. “She’s paying me. Buying me out,” he said. “Her husband’s back in the picture, and he’s got cash. The fuck do I want with a farm? And selling it and shit, that takes time. This is easier.”
“So when do we see the money?” Dirty Dave said, all but drooling.
“Who says you see any of it?” Drill shot back. “What the hell is this? And don’t tell me any of you would just hand over a bunch of cash if you fell into it.”
“Yeah we would,” Tim lied. “Because we’re brothers.”
“Bullshit,” Drill said.
“Maybe it’s not about your sister at all,” Tim said, after a beat. “Maybe it’s that little piece of ass that’s staying with her. Sledge said that you claimed her.”
Oh, hell. And there it was.
“She’s going to be leaving town. At least, that’s what I hear,” Drill said, with what he hoped was a shrug. “I hit that shit, but I didn’t want her to stay.”
Liar.
“But you punched a club member over her,” Tim pointed out.
“She was mine. I wasn’t interested in sharing.”
“Don’t want to share your cash. Don’t want to share your woman. Seems like you’re getting really selfish, brother,” Tim mocked.
“Seems like wanting to show off how important you are has blown up your head, brother,” Drill said. “Throw a fucking clip-on tie on you, and you’d be a full-on mall cop.”
Tim turned an ugly red, especially when some of the members started laughing.
“So you’re telling me that you don’t give a shit about either your sister or the Asian chick?”
Drill shrugged. “Not remotely.” His voice was steady and cold.
Tim’s smile was slow and vicious.
“Then you won’t mind if we burn that farmhouse down.”
“What?”
“You don’t need it,” Tim said. “You said so.”
He was bluffing. Wasn’t he? Drill looked at Cat
fish, who shrugged as though it was out of his hands.
“But… the money,” Drill said, hoping to throw them off. “How the fuck am I supposed to get the money if you burn the house down? They’ll just move away, and we won’t be able to sell it for anything!”
“You shouldn’t be keeping stuff from the club,” Tim said piously. “And if the guy’s as rich as you say he is, maybe we can shake him down and get the cash another way. I’m sure holding onto his wife until we get the cash is good enough, don’t you think?” He paused. “Or do you care about her? Huh?”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Drill shouted. “You’re willing to kidnap a pregnant woman now? On Christmas fucking Eve? What is wrong with you?”
“You!” Tim shouted back. “Standing in the way. Acting like you’re better than the rest of us, just because you’ve been here so long. Well, you’ve gone soft. If the Wraiths are going to get back on top, then we have to be tougher. Like Razor was.” His smile had a tinge of crazy, one that unfortunately Drill found familiar.
Look who wants to be the next Razor. He’d seen it coming. Catfish was going to have his hands full.
“So, we’re going to the farmhouse. Now. And we’re gonna have a little bonfire,” Tim said.
Drill looked at Catfish.
Catfish sighed. Then he nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s go.”
“Catfish!” Drill yelled over the commotion of people heading for the door. “Curtis. Fuck, man. I helped you become president. And you’re going to do me like this? You’re gonna let this happen?”
“I tried to fucking warn you,” Catfish said, in a low voice. “You put me in a bad spot. And he’s right: we need to be tougher. If we aren’t… we’re going to get taken over.” He looked pained, and angered. “I’m not gonna lose the Wraiths, man. You can be on board… or you’ll be an example.”
“It’s like that?”
Catfish nodded. “It’s like that.”
Drill clenched his teeth. “Fine.”
Then he turned, and punched Tim in the throat.
It was chaos from there. Drill punched harder, striking out, but too many of the others surrounded him, grabbing his arms. He caught hits to his stomach, his ribs. He struggled, kicking and biting, lashing out.
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