Page 66 of Obey

Gabe flips Jim off. “Of course I’d rather spend time with Sarah than with your ugly mug.”

The two of them laugh, though, so apparently there’s no real resentment between them. The conversation goes towards who else might be coming, and what everybody does in town. Any time I mention anything about Benton, they hang on my every word, asking for more details. Maybe I should have just said I was from New Bristol to make it easier on myself, but it’s not like any of them will know when I’m embellishing or making shit up.

We really are the main attraction, and Jim seems to want to milk this for social capital. It’s harmless enough, and we owe him.

Jim and Charlie get up to buy us a round of beers. Hank takes the opportunity to slide closer to us.

“Hey, so…” Hank says. He glances over to Gabe, who is leaning back in his chair and pretending not to pay attention.

“Yeah?” I prompt.

Hank squirms a little before saying, “Is it true you’re undercover?”

Maddox looks between them, lips quirking into a grin. “If we were undercover, would we tell you?” he asks, his voice dry despite the smile.

“Well, no,” Hank hedges.

“Then we’re definitely not undercover.” I can hear the near-laughter in Maddox’s voice, and I like it.

I like it a lot.

Hank latches onto that and nods with sage understanding. “Gotcha. But you should know, if you’re not undercover, you gotta be careful.”

“Why’s that?” I ask, honestly curious about where this is going.

“Obviously, it’d be no trouble at all for the feds or state troopers,” Hank explains. “But there’s this biker gang that holed up in the swamp. And they used one of the broken down houses over near Old Applecrumb Farm to?—”

“Shut up,” Gabe interrupts, startling Hank. “You don’t wanna be a snitch.”

“I’m not snitching!” Hank protests, keeping his voice low. “Since they’re not undercover!”

Maddox’s amusement has dried up, and he looks between them with narrowed eyes. “Yeah, I heard a little bit about them,” he says. “Do they mess with you a lot down here?”

Hank glares at Gabe, then shrugs. “Some. One of them harassed Molly—my sister. She’s just fifteen. And they got a lot of…” he trails off.

Jim and Charlie are back with the beers, and two more people trail behind them. One of them is Rebecca, but I don’t recognize the other man.

“Look who arrived!” Jim declares as he sets the beers down. “That’s Jacob. Another fishing buddy.”

Rebecca sits down next to Hank and shakes her head. “Only men! You didn’t want to invite your wives?”

Charlie snorts loudly. “And risk one of these big city guys stealing her? No thanks.”

I glance at Hank, and mouth “later” to him. He nods, which I hope means he’ll stick around to tell us more about what these bikers are up to.

We couldn’t handle them in the swamp, but that’s because we went in with a half-assed plan.

I’m not going to let them defeat us. I still owe them for the hell they put us through.

The conversation keeps flowing around us, with more people coming to chat before leaving again. After our third beer, the sound system suddenly stops playing music.

I glance toward the jukebox, my eyes widening when I see somebody standing there with a mic.

“Good evening, everybody!” the woman says with a bright smile. “It’s the third Friday of the month, and you all know what that means!”

Half the bar groans, but the others cheer. Jim and Charlie whoop loudly.

“That’s right,” the woman says. “It’s…”

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