Page 16 of Wilde's End
“Then stop giving me shit to bitch about.”
“Like fucking what?”
Hart laughs bitterly and gestures to the street. But before he can say anything else, his movement brings my focus up, and I catch a glimpse of someone who’s not supposed to be there.
Wilde.
On that fucking lookout.
Standing in plain sight like he doesn’t care if we see him.
I’m only feeling partially vindicated after Hart’s accusation, because a flare of stubborn irritation takes over instead. I leave my brothers, crossing to the center of the street to make sure he can’t miss me.
Then I cup my hands around my mouth and shout, “Yo! Wilde! I’ve got your answer for you.” My voice bounces down the deserted street five times over.
And feeling more reckless than I have in years, I lift both my middle fingers his way.
This is our town now.
CHAPTER
SIX
WILDE
That motherfucker. I seethe at his audacity and turn to stalk back to the truck. Ziggy is waiting, eyebrows at his hairline, and I huff as I take the driver’s side while he slides into the other.
We sit there, but I don’t start the engine.
“Guess asking nicely doesn’t work anymore,” I say around my clenched jaw.
Ziggy taps his lips three times quickly, and it’s an effort not to roll my eyes. Sure, sending Rooney probably would have been the smart thing since he’s a thousand percent better with people than I am, but this is a situation I can’t be nice about. We don’t have time to play into these games because the longer those brothers are here, the more chances they have to find out about the rest of us.
“Rooney would have beentoonice about it.”
Ziggy uses his fore and little fingers to make horns above his head.
“And Lynx wouldn’t have been nice enough.”
My thoughts are impossible to catch as I focus ahead at the tops of the buildings that are barely in view above the elevated tree line.
I tried to be nice. I tried to break it down for him and give him an easy out.
If he won’t take it, then he’s forcing my hand.
“These boys want to play wild man? Let’s show them exactly how hard it is to live out this way.”
Ziggy’s expression darkens.
“Relax, I won’t hurt them,” I say as I coax the engine alive. “But we are very, very remote up here. And there’s only one way in and out.”
When Ziggy turns his attention out of his window, I take that as a sign I won’t be getting his help with my plan. I have more than enough people in town who’ll be happy to do the heavy lifting. We Wenders stick together.
I drop Ziggy off and then head home. I’m supposed to be making my way out to the furthest side of our land to check that we’ve done everything we can to prevent fires this summer, but that will have to wait.
Like everything else this week.
I’ve set all training aside too, and with our monthly fight night only a week away, I’m feeling rusty. That’s something Foley will exploit in his favor, and we could really use the cash from a win this month. It’s nearly time to refill the guzzler with gas, and the old fire engine parked alongside my house could use a battery replacement.
