All she felt was shy and alone. And she was already missing the wall Capone made for her. She didn’t know what to do now until he came back.
“I gotta see to some shit,” Shark told her, “make yourself comfortable. They’ll be a few hours.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem,” he winked and strode off.
Leaving her in a room of men she didn’t know.
Lucia slipped onto a barstool to wait.
She’d been waiting her whole adult life for Capone.
A few more hours wasn’t going to hurt.
THIRTEEN
“A soul worth saving.” – Danny Murphy
It’s been quite some time since Danny Murphy had seen a man so broken.
Self-destruction was an easy button to press when a person thought so little of themselves.
It was in front of the pastor as he leaned into the vehicle to make sure Arson was breathing. Air and alcohol fumes wafted over his hand, and Danny felt only relief. It would have been a terrible start to the early spring day to find a dead body on his property.
The slumped biker on the passenger side of a black Tahoe stirred.
Unfocused eyes flickered open.
If Arson had driven to the church grounds, it was obviously to see Danny.
Why hadn’t the other man come inside?
How long had he been parked here?
It wasn’t yet six a.m. If not for Danny leaving his bed early to go for a run, he wouldn’t have seen the truck at all.
Over the past few months, he’d like to think they’d grown close, but with any addiction, it didn’t allow you to put anything else above it. The addiction was a jealous creature. When Danny thought he was making progress with helping the man, Arson disappeared and came back worse. Using his fake smiles and swaggering disposition to insist he was fine.
All Danny could do was hope Arson reached rock bottom to want help. They’d gotten as far as to take Arson to an AA meeting, but he’d walked out halfway.
He knew more than most how people had to reach their rock bottom, whatever that was, on their own. For Danny, it had taken being on the brink of death for him to ask for help.
Addiction came with success and failure stories. Danny hoped Arson would be the former.
Months ago, at a low point when Arson passed out in his house, Danny recalled the pain he heard as the man muttered, “I couldn’t save her. It should have been me. Couldn’t save her.” He was fighting demons he’d never win. All he could try to do was change lanes and accept what was.
“Hey, buddy. Let’s get you inside.”
“Danny? What you doing here?” Arson blinked.
Danny smiled. “You’re parked outside my house. Do you know how long you’ve been here?”
“Fuck.” He scrubbed down his face, then looked around as if realizing where he was. “What time is it?”
“A little after 6 a.m.”
“Fuck. I was meant to go to Tag’s last night. They invited me over for dinner.”