With no hesitation, he heads straight for me and pulls me into a one-armed hug and plants a kiss on the top of my head.
“What’s this all about?” I say, confused. And sniffling — he didn’t wash these clothes before putting them on and, after years in his closet, they are beyond musty.
He kisses my head again. It feels so good, even if he smells so bad it makes my eyes water. “You were right. Your plan worked.”
“You were able to learn something?” I say.
There’s an affirmative rumble in his chest. But, instead of kissing my head again — which is something that I hope he’ll do — he looks to his mother. “Tiffany and I need to talk about a few things. Things that you probably shouldn’t hear, because it might blow back on you. The less you know, the better.”
“Is that so, Declan?” she says. “There are things you’re keeping from me?”
“I’m just trying to look out for you. If what happens falls on me, fine. I can handle it. You’re doing a lot for me by letting me stay here, and I appreciate it, mom, but I don’t want you taking on any more risk than you already are.”
She nods. And spares a smile for her son. “Thank you. I suppose I can go do some grocery shopping. And maybe swing by my friend Margaret’s place to see how she’s doing. She just got back from a trip to Cancun, so I assume she’ll want to tell me about that. You two take your time, do your planning, I’ll be back in a few hours.”
Blaze tosses her the keys, then takes me by the hand and leads me inside. We head right to the dining room, and he sets the picnic basket down on the table.
“What’s this all about, Blaze?” I say, eyeing the basket.
For a moment, I think he hasn’t heard me — he continues setting up plates and silverware without batting an eye — but then he stops and gives me a long, considering look. There’s sadness behind his eyes, or reluctance, and it’s enough to make me stand up and reach out for his hand. But he shakes his head and returns to setting up the table.
“I tailed those guys. Followed them to a construction site. That Howser motherfucker is the foreman, and I watched him have a meeting with Anna and Carl Ebri.”
I sit up in my chair. “What kind of meeting?”
“I couldn’t get close, it was something they didn’t want anyone to hear, but that foreman and those bankers looked real fucking chummy.”
History lessons flash through my mind, some cases recent, some cases buried in the past — forced loans, wrongful foreclosures, a lengthy list of malfeasance by unscrupulous banks and financiers.
“You think they’re working together? Anna and Carl using their influence to force people onto loans they can’t afford, then taking their homes when they can’t pay it back, and this construction company provides thugs, and they both put the homes back on the market?”
Blaze grabs a beer out of the fridge and thoughtfully considers it before popping the top. “Could be. This crew looked like the type to not mind busting some heads for profit.”
“I’m glad you were safe,” I say.
“I nearly had to put a few of them down. When I was leaving the site, they caught me. Circled me. Tried to intimidate me.”
My stomach clenches and I brace myself to hear the news that, though Blaze came out of this mess unscathed, there are now a few dead construction workers buried out there somewhere.
“What happened?”
He grins. It’s half embarrassed, half dripping with confidence. “I did what you said: I thought my way out of there. Acted like I wasn’t a threat. Told them I was just looking for a job and then invited one of them to come back with me to my mom’s house and play Animal Crossing.”
“Animal Crossing?”
“It’s a video game. Mack told me about it. He spends a lot of his free time volunteering with kids at the Lone Mesa Youth Center and it’s real popular right now.”
“Mack? Is he also in your MC?”
He nods and grunts. “He’s our Sergeant at Arms. Enforces our laws. Does other stuff you probably don’t want to hear about.”
My mouth might drop open a little. “And he volunteers with kids?”
“A lot. He had a rough childhood. Doesn’t want other kids to have the same problems he did. He’s a dad, now, which is still hard for me to get my head around. Has a little baby boy, Matyas.”
“So, you sat and played this Animal Crossing with your MC’s enforcer so he could better relate to the kids he volunteers with?”
What kind of sentence did I just say? What kind of gang is this? Criminals playing video games about animals?
“Well, yeah. We played it a few times to figure it out, so he could talk about it with the kids, but that shit is just weird. I remember when video games used to be about fighting or blowing this up, but this one was just about collecting bells and picking fruit while camping out on an island with a bunch of talking rabbits.”
There’s a pause, and he gives me a funny look, and I realize I’ve been staring at him for the last half minute. More and more — in his willingness to do anything to make me smile, even when I feel so low; in his readiness to help his mother, no matter her terrible attitude; in his desire to help his friend understand a weird video game to relate
