Page 21 of Viper's Salvation
The game expands as more people join in, the trash talk increasing with each round. Amy holds her own against everyone, her competitive streak emerging with each win. There's a lightness to her now, a spark that wasn't there before. It's like watching someone remember who they used to be before life beat them down.
"Bullshit!" she calls when Ghost tries to put down three aces. His face falls as she grins triumphantly. "Never try to out-bluff a professional bullshitter, VP."
"Damn," Ghost grumbles, collecting the large pile of cards. "That's what I get for playing with civilians."
"Former waitresses aren't civilians," Debbie chimes in. "They're battle-hardened veterans of the service industry."
"Damn straight," Amy agrees, high-fiving Debbie across the table. "I've faced down drunken frat boys and entitled Karens. Your biker intimidation tactics don't work on me."
It strikes me how quickly Amy is adapting, finding her place within the group's dynamic. There's a resilience to her that's rare, the ability to move forward without forgetting what's behind her.
We play until the afternoon stretches toward evening, the sun beginning its slow descent toward the tree line. Reaper finally checks his watch and stands.
"Time to pack it up," he announces. "We've got club business tonight."
A groan rises from the group, but everyone starts gathering cards and clearing tables. I notice Amy's smile fade as she watches the activity around her, a shadow passing over her face.
"You okay?" I ask, helping her collect the empty bottles and cans near our table.
"Yeah," she says, but her eyes remain on the lake, its surface now painted with the orange and pink hues of approaching sunset. "I just... I don't want to go back yet."
I understand what she isn't saying. The clubhouse represents safety, but also confinement. Another place where she's dependent on others, where her freedom is limited by circumstances beyond her control.
"I can stay," I offer. "If you want to hang out a bit longer."
Her head turns sharply toward me. "Really? Don't you have club business too?"
I shrug. "Nothing that requires me specifically. Reaper will understand."
Hope flickers across her face. "You're sure?"
"Positive," I say, "Let me just let them know."
Kelly approaches, concern evident in her expression. "Amy? We're heading back. You coming?"
"Actually," Amy says, a new confidence in her voice, "I'm going to stay a bit longer. Viper's staying with me."
Kelly's eyebrows shoot up, her eyes darting between us. "Oh. Okay. Are you sure that's... I mean, your ribs and everything..."
"I'm fine," Amy assures her. "Really. I just want some more time in the fresh air. After being locked up for so long..." She doesn't finish the sentence, but she doesn't need to.
Understanding softens Kelly's expression. "Of course. Just... be careful, okay?"
"She'll be safe with me," I say.
Kelly nods, apparently satisfied. "I'll see you back at the clubhouse then." She hugs Amy gently. "Don't stay out too late. It gets cold after dark."
"Yes, mom," Amy teases, and Kelly sticks out her tongue in response before returning to help Blade load their things.
Within fifteen minutes, I warn Reaper, and the area clears out, engines roaring to life as bikes and cars depart. The sudden absence of noise leaves a peaceful quiet broken only by birdsong and the gentle lapping of water against the shore.
Amy visibly relaxes once everyone is gone, her shoulders dropping, her breathing deepening.
"Thank you," she says, turning to me. "I know this probably seems silly, but—"
"It's not silly," I interrupt. "You spent months with no control over anything in your life. Wanting to make your own choices now makes perfect sense."
Gratitude flashes in her eyes. "Exactly. Just deciding when to leave a place... it seems so small, but it feels huge."
