Page 108 of Road Queens
“Seriously?” Sidney asked. “Iris thought they’d let her keep being a physician assistant? I owe her huge for turning me on to transcribing clinic notes from home, but I could have told her they’d never let her keep her PA license.”
“—but she cheered up when they let her run the prison newspaper. Is that how you found out about Operation Starfish? My mom told you?”
“No, I took an interest in your work after my brother-in-law murdered Debbie Frank. I regret not knowing about you prior to your disbanding. I would have been an asset; my not inconsiderable funds would have been at your disposal.”
Amanda had a sudden vision of Marcus as a voice on a speakerphone, funding the three of them and their missions like a sinisterCharlie’s Angelsreboot. And why did people use “not inconsiderable” instead of just “considerable”? Ridiculous.
She cleared her throat. “Yes, that’s too bad.”
“I think you might have the wrong idea about what we were doing,” Cassandra said warily.
“Not at all. Your efforts to rid the world of domestic abusers were laudable. You simply lacked the will, organization, and funds to take it far enough.”
Oh, great, another man who wants to take women “in hand” so they can enact his agenda instead of theirs.
Cass was already shaking her head. “That’s not what we were trying to do.”
“Oh, no? You weren’t trying to effect a cure?”
“We were never the cure. We were just the Band-Aid. That was always the problem.”
“Better a Band-Aid than nothing at all.”
“Depends on the injury,” Sidney observed.
“It’s nice of you to say that, Mr.Garner,” Amanda said.
He gave her a thin smile. “I am not nice. What a pity you gave up. I would have thought outlaw bikers had more staying power.”
“Oh, fuck me, another guy who bought into the all-bikers-are-Hells-Angels trope.”
If Sidney’s outburst had offended him, Garner didn’t show it. “You ... aren’t?”
“Nope. The vast majority of MCs—”
“‘Vast majority’ is redundant,” Amanda put in, then moved out of pinching range, because she was a willing slave to the great god Grammar.
“Eat it, Amanda. Like I was saying, ninety-nine percent of MCs are super legit. It’s like most things; the fucking one percent ruins it for everybody else.”
“So, what?” His tone skated right up to the line between light teasing and bitter mockery. “You did it for awareness?”
“Shit, no, we don’t—I mean, we didn’t do it for awareness. Christ, it’s the NFL’s Breast Cancer Awareness sop all over again. Show me a functional adult who doesn’t know breast cancer exists. Or domestic violence.”
“Hmm. I won’t deny, it’s invigorating to run across such impertinence.”
This is him invigorated? Also, “impertinence”? Who talks like that? Besides me?
“Then it’s your lucky day, pal.” Sidney spread her hands and grinned. “Impertinence is my fucking moniker.”
“Sidney?” Amanda didn’t finish; there was no need. Sidney heard the words even if Amanda didn’t say them:You wanna ease up a little on the unstable killer?
“And while we’re educating you on shit you don’t actually understand—”
Huh, maybe Ididhave to say the words.
“—that whole trope about how MCs are all about rebels and free spirits is another teeming pile of bullshit.”
“‘Teeming’?” he asked, and—whoa!—smiled. Or grimaced. His lips moved, anyway.
