Break Me Open (17 page)

"Hey listen, don't let the little boy shoot a dozen holes in your barrel. Being a Wraith is kickass.”

"Who the fuck you calling a little boy, ya fat fuck. And I weren't talking trash about us," Trig said. "Just trying to figure her out."

"If you do, let me know," I said.

The new guy let out a bellowing laugh. "Hah, seems like I misaccused Trig. You're just naturally dark ain't ya. Good thing that sharp tongue comes in such a sweet package."

He yelled out to no one in general for whiskey.

"Listen," he said turning back to me. "They call me Fat Fig. You wanna know why?"

"Cause you're fat?"

"Right. They wanted to call me fat fuck, but I'm not the only one around her, so Fat Fig it is. Now the reason I'm fat is cause life with the Wraiths is so damn good. You leave out all the funny shit that's been going down this past week, and things are pretty smooth. Ghost get around to teaching you our motto?"

I shook my head.

"Live. Fight. Ride."

I mouthed the words. Cheap and short, but they felt like an alright credo on my slurred tongue. The whiskey landed before us, along with a set of shot glasses . The smell must have intoxicated me further. "What about fuck?" I asked.

Both of them cracked up at that. "Not quite as clean as you make out are you? But I guess that's about what I'd expect from Ghost's girl."

Ghost's girl. It sounded smoother with each pass through someone's lips. I was his girl. A tingle raced up my spine.

"Anyway, I think we got fucking covered with ‘ride.’ Don't you think?"

He lifted a shot glass.

"But cheers. Cheers to our newest dirty member."

I raised my glass and choked down the burning liquid. Maybe it had more than whiskey, because by the time my eyes opened, someone else was pushing me down my own booth.

"These boys giving you trouble?" Denise said conspiratorially in my ear.

"No, ma'am," Big Fig saluted.

"Didn't ask you dumbass."

"They're fine. They're fine." My tongue was coming loose. "They were just telling me a little bit about themselves."

"Oh were they. Well, let me give you a little vaccination against what they're spreading. Bet Fig here will never tell you the story about little fig."

I started laughing already. I knew where this was headed, but it all felt warm anyway. Denise told us about the giant across from me and his panicked attempts to consummate with a girl. Fig protested, but the louder he got, the more people closed in round us to hear. The story ended with a roaring laugh that nearly shook off the rafters. And then there was another one about Big Fig's dumb sister.

If I wasn't drunk it would have all seemed mean. But the liquor brought me close and I could see that these guys actually were that close. It was just family teasing one another, and when Big Fig took over and started bashing one of the others, it was with such warmth and fondness and foul mouthedness, I wished they had a story about me.

Then again, they did. I was Ghost's girl. I already had a place in this whether I like it or not. Which mean that this was family. I could feel a bit of it fueled by whiskey. They were not at all like any I would have chosen, but since when did you pick family?

I laughed and drank, and eventually I was slumped over the table. Everyone left me and then new people would sit down after and introduce themselves and pay their respects to Ghost. A lot of it sounded more like an apology to me. One little tattoo and apparently I had gone from bad to good.

Denise dropped me off a meal, rubbed at my tattoo, and then talked to me a bit about how close she and Ghost were. I ended up watching the TV aimlessly for hours and hours. I vaguely recalled that I should be in classes now. I thought a bit about Sandy, but was too drunk to miss her more than a little.

More bikers piled in as the sun began to sink and I realized just how long I’d been here. More girls came with them, but these were not members of the club. They didn't have the brand that I wore. A couple guys at a time would paw each one. Not exactly what I wanted to see after all that good will I'd built up, but the girls seemed to like the attention. Maybe I was a bit jealous that I wasn't everyone’s focus anymore. It was starting to feel a bit too cold, too. I was about to head back to Ghost's room, when he walked in through the door himself.

He made straight for the club room on the other side of the bar, but caught me in a glance. He froze and did a double take.

It was a rare treat to see Ghost's blue eyes flare wide. I'd never known it to happen while we still had our clothes on.

He came up and looked over the various bottles and empty glasses covering the table. I was sitting alone by then.

"How long have you been here?" he asked.

"Since breakfast?"

"This is lunch?"

God there were two empty whiskey bottles. Who had drunk these?

"Some of it. The rest were mid-morning, mid-afternoon, and mid-evening snacks." I burped and was glad it stopped there. "Maybe dinner too."

"You should be recovering."

"I am. I'm recovering a sense of normalcy. Well, a new normal anyway."

"Did you talk to anyone?"

His face was scrunched up so serious, I had to hold back a giggle. "Well, tough to order without talking."

Ghost didn't seem to like that. That's what I was seeing now. Ghost the tactician. Ghost the soldier. Not Bryan the man underneath that armor. Bryan would have at least sat down.

"What's the matter?" I asked. "You wanted me to join, right? Well, I might as well be in the club."

"I just want you to be safe."

He squeezed my shoulder, then walked back and disappeared through the side door.

His face lingered in my thoughts. It seemed a little betrayed, as if my trying to fit in pulled me away from him.

It struck me as wrong at first, but he was in that room some time, and that let me mull it over. I remembered how close I felt with Sandy, and that flare of irritation when she told me she was too busy to hang out. Even when it was with a guy. I had a sense of possession, and I guess Ghost did too.

But it was more than that. I think he didn't quite trust the club. As much as he said they were a brotherhood, he stood apart. The only one he really seemed on the level with was Nico. I think he didn't trust the guys jostling and drinking and roaring around me as much as he did the structure that Nico provided. Dishonorably discharged from the army. He never told me why, but it wouldn't be hard to imagine it left him feeling betrayed and alone in the world.

I knew that feeling. Only Ghost hadn’t hid, he had found a new family, even if it wasn’t quite the same.

When he came back out, my mood had turned. I'd stopped drinking and now the booze was ramming its way out of my system something brutal. He tried to sit, but I shook my head, and pulled him toward the door. We grabbed a couple burgers from the kitchen and ventured out to eat.

The stars were abject relief from the brightness inside. The broiled meat and grilled onions seared my throat, and with Ghost at my side, the hangover seemed to almost diminish.

"You were gone a long time," I said.

"Getting ready."

"For what? Or is this one of those things you can't tell me."

He looked at me a spell. In the darkness, his eyes glowed fierce. Predator's eyes, I thought, not for the first time. This time though, I wondered if they actually were - if that was the exact effect of the army’s handiwork.

"I don't want there to be things like that," he said. "Especially where it concerns your life."

"I'd appreciate that." I stroked his arm with my non-greasy hand.

"I was picking over a crime scene. The one I left before I came to your house."

I remembered him shivering on my couch like he was burning with fever. "Yeah, I remember."

"If you'd like, I can tell you what happened."

"I assume people died."

"Clever girl." He smiled. Still an uncommon sight. Things must have gone well today.

"So what? What did you clean?"

"I left casings when I ran. I recovered them."

"Oh, that's good."

"Lucky, mostly. They must have closed off the scene once the FBI said they were en route. And the feds didn't bother checking yet."

"Then how'd you get in?"

"It was a roof. I got there from another roof."

He jumped onto a roof? That didn't seem standard. "Did you spike?"

"Just a tad."

"Bryan." I slipped my hand to his. "You shouldn't expose yourself. I don't know what those chems are doing to you. Do you?"

"I don't, but it was a small risk compared to going in another way." He squeezed my fingers. "Trust me. I'm not trying to throw my life away anymore."

I accepted that and we went back to our food for a while, when I remembered how this conversation had started.

"Wait, how's this for me?"

"It's preparation for my interrogation."

"Your what?"

"My interrogation by the FBI." He finished the burger and cleaned his hand in the sand.

My stomach sank. "You're going to turn yourself in?"

"I'm not a suspect. They've got nothing on me but hearsay and some light battery, that they know was self defense. All I'm planning to do is answer questions. See if I can head off anything headed your way. Or to the club.”

I'd never been able to read him, but he looked truly calm. "They'll still ask you about the murder right? You can't just lie to them. This is what they're trained to do."

He gently lifted the burger back to my mouth, until I took another bite. "They're used to interrogating above average criminals. Not soldiers prepped to face torture and execution. It won't be anything."

He shut his eyes as a desert breeze blew over us. He really wasn’t worried

"Can you teach me?" I asked. "To handle questioning?"

"What I was taught? Not likely. You'd never feel anything for me again if I put you through that.”

"Well, ok, then enough to overcome FBI."

"That's not going to have to happen."

"Just in case they question me. For fun."

He pursed his lips, then nodded. "Finish eating."

I shoveled down the rest of the food. It rested uneasy in my stomach, and my head was pounding with the new energy in me. It felt bad but also the right condition for this sort of training. Ghost led me back to his bunkhouse.

"We start now," he said.

He opened the door like a gentleman, then beckoned me to a chair behind his desk. He sat across from me on the bed.

“Like this?” I said.

“Interrogations don’t always happen in a nice little room.”

"Odd interrogation room though," I said.

"All the site needs is a balance. Reassurance and disorientation. That's what the whole good cop, bad cop routine is about. The good interrogator will find the right balance. Put them in a bleak room then offer them a coffee."

I took in the place "Actually, this place fits the bill pretty well."

"If you say so." The words came out light but his face had gone blank. His eyes were like frozen ocean ice, hard and blue. His sculpted face regarded me like a statue.

"So you're actually going to be interrogating me," I said, trying to kill the nervousness already brewing inside.

"We can stop."

"I don't think the police give you that option."

"They will, eventually. But there'll be strings attached. "

I rolled my eyes. "Well, duh."

"It'll get harder to remember after a couple hours."

"Ok, fine, then start," I said. I was wavering between annoyance and curiosity. I wanted to show I could be in his world, but only so I could be with him.

He stared at me a long time, crunched the gears in his head. "What's your name?"

"Katie Phillips."

"You live in Gilsner?"

"Yeah."

"Where do you live?"

"My address? Shouldn't they have it?”

"Sure, sure, we have it. Just checking if you have it." A crease of a smile. I wasn't sure if this was the officer or him speaking.

"Listen, just ask me what you want and let me go," I said.

Ghost leaned in arms folded. "Why do you think the police want you?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe it's just to ask your address."

"It's not."

"So why?"

"Maybe because-"

"Ok, pause." Ghost tut-tutted and shook his head. "Either don’t talk or stick with the dumb answers. I was trying to get you in that rhythm. Don’t do anything more than that. Don't joke. Don't make stuff up. They're trained to pick apart information, reactions. Give them nothing. Denial, ignorance and silence ok?"

"Ok," I told myself. "Yeah, yes."

The mask slipped back on. "Have you ever seen someone die?"