spill the tankard of dark beer in his hand.
Was he even old enough to drink?
“Pike was…” He tipped his head back, closed his eyes. I could seen his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed back tears. “Not always a good man.”
A few people chuckled.
“But he was what he was. What we are. And he accepted us for all of our faults. ’Cause face it, we’re all a bunch of screwed-up losers.”
More chuckling. Davy looked back down. He wasn’t smiling. “And there was only one of us who was there for him when he needed it the most. Allie Beckstrom.”
Glasses raised, all faces turned to me. I gave a small smile and nodded. See, I’m good under social pressure. Having a notorious father will do that to a girl.
“To Allie,” Davy said.
“Allie!” the crowd agreed.
And then they waited. Waited for me to say something. Okay.
“Pike was my friend.” Wow, this was harder than it looked. “And the last thing he told me before… before he died was: it was worth it.”
Silence fell over the room.
“To Pike,” I said. “The strongest Hound I have had the honor to know. I wish he would have had a chance to find his island away from it all. I’ll miss him. We’ll all miss him.”
“To Pike,” the crowd said somberly.
Everyone drank, and I did too, because my throat was tight with tears.
“Pike would have wanted a new leader for the Pack,” Davy said. “A Hound as tough as he was. A friend. I elect Allie Beckstrom as the new leader of the Pack. All in favor, say aye!”
“Seconded,” Jamar’s baritone called out.
“Third-I mean aye!” That from bouncy, corpse-sniffing Beatrice.
“Wait,” I said. “No. Wait.”
Sid, standing next to me, was laughing.
“I’m not a leader. I shouldn’t be your leader,” I said. “I’ve only ever been to one meeting. I’d make a terrible leader. Vote for Sid, or Jamar or Beatrice.”
No one heard me because everyone was clapping.
Sid, his arms still crossed across his chest, leaned toward me. “Give it up.” His breath smelled of tequilla and lime. “They want you. And we need you. Pike’s death will destroy the ground he worked so hard to gain. You’re not gonna turn your back on your own kind, are you? What would Pike say?”
“I don’t have a kind,” I said.
Sid patted me on the shoulder. “You do now.”
A motion near the back wall of the room caught my eye. The cutter girl, Tomi, Davy’s ex-girlfriend, shouldered her way across the room. She stopped in front of me and looked me straight in the eye.
“Tomi,” Davy called out from across the room.
She didn’t turn, didn’t look at him.
“Yes?” I asked.
She gave me a bored glare.
“Tomi,” he said again, this time a warning. He got down off his chair and pushed his way through the bodies.
I was looking Tomi right in the eye, so I noticed she waited until he was behind her to talk to me. And it was clear from her expression that she didn’t like me much.
“Tomi, leave her alone,” Davy said.
I don’t think he knew what that single sentence did to her. But I did. I watched as her eyes widened. Then she searched my face as if trying to see what he saw in me. Then she licked her lips and scowled.
Great. It didn’t take a genius to interpret the flash of jealousy that screwed her face into a sneer. That woman had hate in her. And lots of it. For me.
“There’s nothing between us,” I said. Neutral. Calm. Maybe some of Zayvion’s Zen was wearing off on me.
“I don’t owe you anything,” she said loud enough for Davy to hear it. “And I will never follow you.”
“Tomi,” Davy said again.
“Fuck you, Davy Silvers. I’ve had better than you. Bigger than you.” She flipped him off and pushed past me. If Zayvion hadn’t been standing hip to hip with me, I think she would have tried to step on my foot as she went by.
About a dozen people, all young enough I’d card them if they tried to buy beer, filtered through the crowd like strings being pulled out of the weave. Each of them, about an even mix between men and women, glared at me and then followed Tomi out into the pub.
I watched Davy’s face slowly slide from confusion to anger.
“Nice job, Silvers,” Sid laughed. “Chasing away members before we even get started again.”
Davy smiled a tight smile. “Their loss.”
Sid swallowed down his drink. “They’ll be back. Give ’em time to cool off. We all need time to cool off.” He angled a look at me and then at Davy, asking me to do something. Then he walked off to find more booze.
Great. I guess I was the guidance counselor now too.
“You know,” I said to Davy, “I recently told someone that I don’t like it when people decide my future without consulting me.”
“Does this mean you’re backing out?” He looked at me with that hollowed shock of betrayal. He looked lost. I knew how he felt. Pike had been my friend too.
“No,” I said. “It means you better enjoy that beer, because I’m going to keep you so busy being my assistant, you’re not going to have time to drink.”
“Huh.” He took a deep swallow of the beer. “I think you underestimate my multitasking abilities.”
“I think you underestimate my ability to work your ass off.”
That got a small smile out of him. “We’ll find out, won’t we?” He hoisted his nearly empty glass. “To tomorrow.”
“To tomorrow.”
We drank on that.
Okay, that was enough red wine before food. My head was feeling a little muzzy. “I think I’m done here,” I mumbled.
Zayvion, who had been quiet, put his hand on my elbow and walked with me out of the room. “Home?” he asked.
“Please,” I said.
Once we got into the car, drenched with the scent of roses, I put the vase of pink flowers on my lap again. I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers over my lids. “How did it get so confusing?” I asked.
“What?”
“My life. Everything used to make sense.”
“Did it?”
“No. But at least it didn’t change every few seconds.”
“Some things are the same,” he said.
“Like what?”
“I still owe you a real date.”
I rolled my head so I could see him. He looked good in profile, a strong nose and high-cut cheekbones that gave him that slightly exotic flare. Wide lips, and dark, smooth skin. The note of his pine cologne mingled with the roses and made a new, sensual scent.
“I thought O’Donnel’s was it,” I said.
He looked over at me. “O’Donnel’s was definitely not it. How about we try it again. Tonight. I’ll come by your place around seven. I have reservations at the Gargoyle.”
That was one of the most expensive French restaurants in town.
