Page 59 of Obey

“They’re bothering you a lot?” I ask, trying to sound casual. “The biker gang.”

Rebecca nods. “But we’re just some backwater town. Our police force is an old man and some kids, and I wouldn’t be surprised to find out they’re being bribed or whatever.” She grimaces. “What can you do, you know?”

Fuck, the irony is killing me. I mop a particularly stubborn mud stain. “Somebody else would move in once they’re gone. Happens in the big city too, and they’ve got plenty of cops.”

It doesn’t help that a large chunk of the NBPD is on the take, of course. I’ve ferried Silvano to a few meetings with police officers. They try to make the meetings anonymous, but cops are pretty bad at disguising themselves.

“Are you from a big city?” Rebecca asks, batting her eyelashes at me.

“Yeah. Benton City,” I say, because while I doubt she’ll blab, I don’t want to make finding out who we are that easy. “Not as big as some places, but there’s gangs there too. They shot up a wedding a few years back.”

Her eyes are wide, and she starts asking me questions. Jim tries to pretend he’s rolling his eyes, uninterested, but he pays attention too.

I may as well give them some good gossip—especially since it has nothing to do with me or Maddox. The more distracted they are, the better.

FIFTEEN

MADDOX

My shoulder still aches, even several days later, but the wound no longer looks worse for wear and the stitches hold well. I doubt I’d have gotten better care at a hospital.

I wouldn’t have gotten a better nurse maid, that’s for sure. Knives has been hovering the entire time, helping me with everything and deflecting the steady stream of local gossips who keep stopping by “just to check in.”

He closes the door on our rented room at the only B&B in town and sighs heavily, bringing the tray of coffee and muffins inside.

“Rebecca invited us to another event tonight,” Knives says as he sets the tray down on the desk.

“I heard,” I answer. “And I know you’re just dying to go.” He glares at me. I smirk at him. “Bet you’ll be happy to see the last of this place.”

I should be ready to go, too, but I keep thinking about going back to New Bristol after failing so miserably. I had one job, and I’d fucked it up. Silvano is going to demote me for sure—and probably demote Knives as well. Maybe we deserve it.

But the more I think about it, the more it feels like we really were set up to fail.

“When we were out there,” I say before he can reply, “you mentioned something about Silvano setting us up or whatever. Do you really think that’s what happened?”

Knives stops midway through pouring the coffee into a mug. He stares at me, finishes pouring, then comes to hand the mug to me.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t seem like Silvano—or maybe it does. I haven’t been with the Crescis as long as you have. Silvano comes off as reasonable, but I guess that’s just his mask.”

I take the coffee and lean back against the headboard. “I don’t think he’d risk two loyal men on a whim,” I say slowly, but I’m no longer as sure as I had been. “He really did want that shipment back. But…” I fidget with the mug, staring down into it. “I don’t know. He was always good to me. He’s the one who promoted me to begin with.” My shoulders slump. “I guess I disappointed him, though.”

It’s hard not to dwell on that. I’ve disappointed people so many times in my life, and I guess I have a complex about it. If Silvano really was so upset with me that he sent me off to fucking die, well. That’d just be the cherry on top.

“I thought I was doing well, too,” Knives mutters. He serves himself coffee and takes a muffin before sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Evan trusted me to guard Silvano on my own. Well, while Kyran was also there.” Knives makes a sour face. “I’d believe that Kyran hates us. Maybe Silvano got rid of us because Kyran told him to.”

“He hasn’t gotten rid of us yet,” I argue. “And he couldn’t have seen this coming. Not the swamp bits, anyway.” I shake my head. “If they’d wanted to get rid of us, there would’ve been easier ways.”

Knives laughs bitterly. “Yeah, Silvano probably hasn’t set foot on any surface that isn’t thoroughly asphalted. Can you imagine his fucking fancy shoes in the swamp?”

I snicker at the thought. “One mosquito bite, and he’d be done for.” I instantly feel bad for it, though, and I sigh. “I can’t say I blame him, though. I’m ready to get back to the city.”

Am I, though?

A break from the violence has been surprisingly nice.

A break from having to look over my shoulder at every turn, a break from terrorizing people.

Knives munches on his muffin, chewing quietly. “Yeah. There’s nothing to do here. As soon as your arm is more mobile, we’ll head back to NewVa, get some funds, and go home. I’ll fucking fly home. I don’t give a fuck about the car.”

---