Page 106 of 23 Hours

Licking the front of my teeth, I try and fail to summon a simple reason he won’t shut down in two seconds flat. “It’s complicated,” is all I come up with. It’s late, and I’m half-drunk. I dunno what he expects me to do. Pour my heart out? Not likely.

“Then simplify it for me,” he offers. “You’re a smart man. You can use words. I got ears.” Tucking errant strands of long hair behind his ears, Big then taps those same ears with exaggerated fanfare. “They listen quite fuckin’ well.”

Heaving a sigh, I stare up at the ceiling in my entryway, hoping for… I dunno what… divine intervention? Or for Kit to put me outta my misery by somehow Dorothy-ing her fine ass here with the click of her heels. When that doesn’t work, Ithunkmy head against the door at my back and mutter, “Not happenin’,” hoping Big will let it go and leave me to handle the Kit situation by myself.

Not a fan of my pigheadedness, Big grumbles a slew of laughable bullshit under his breath. “Then you’re not gettin’ your woman back,” he throws out, as if that’s a foregone conclusion.

I snort. “We both know that’s not true.”

“Do we?” Big scratches his chin. “’Cause from where I’m standin’, I’m your club president, and she left your ass of her own free will.”

That might be true. She might have left of her own free will… But… “Rank or not, brother, she’s mine.” Yeah. There’s that. She’s my woman. My old lady. The mother to my son. Wham bam, in yo face motherfucker.

“She got your patch on her back?” He levels me with a look like he somehow wins with this one. The asshole’s itching for a fight.

Lucky for him, we’re not built the same.

“No,” I answer honestly, calmly, and not at all in the mood to punch him in the mouth for baiting me with this crap. He’s trying real hard to make me crack under pressure.

“She gonna get your patch on her back?” Big challenges next.

“Yes.” That’s a dumbass question. Deb’s already on it. I commissioned Kit’s cut the day after we got back. The same day Deb took mine to patch over the bullet hole and wash all the dried blood off. Still, that’s none of Big’s business. It’s mine and Kit’s… and a bit of Deb’s, considerin’ she’s the one puttin’ in the hard work.

“How’s that gonna happen if you won’t fix your shit? You think she’s just gonna wait around for you to decide to get sober? To explain what the hell’s doin’?If she were Bink, and I was pullin’ this crap, would you tell her to put up with it? Or would you tell her she deserved better, then help her, like you did when my woman left me the first time?”

When I open my mouth to mention, once again, this isn’t the same situation, he keeps yappin’. “Thought so. Now you gonna let me in, or am I gonna stand out here all night?” He kicks the steel of the door, impatient as ever.

“You can come in, but I’m still goin’ after her.”

“It’s funny you think you can leave.” He smirks, his head shaking in laughter as if he could stop me.

What’s funnier is he thinks he has that much power.

Sorry, brother, ya don’t.

Crossing my arms over my bare chest, lips thinned, I blink up at Big slowly, unimpressed by his level of fuck-around-and-find-out. “I. Can,” I grind out through clenched molars. It might involve violence, but I’ve proven on a regular I’ll do what I gotta do to handle my own. Stand in my way and see what happens.

Reading the air thickening between us, the smirk wipes clean off Big’s face. “Why don’t you go sit your drunk ass down and let’s have a chat.” He jerks a chin toward the inside of my house. “You’re not goin’ anywhere tonight.”

“She’s not in my bed. I’m goin’ to hers.” We aren’t sleeping apart. Drunk or not, I’ve made it to bed every single night since we rescued her from the warehouse. I don’t plan on changing that ritual anytime soon.

“No, brother.” Big’s shoulders lift as he inhales a bottomless, chest-expanding patience-imbuing breath. On his exhale, the man expels a dramatic, long-suffering sigh. “The sisters are with her, Gunz. She’s safe. Whatisyour plan? Bang on her door in the middle of the night, professing your love, beggin’ her to take ya back?”

That’s not how I’d do things.

“No.” I haven’t thought that far yet, but that’s none of his business, either.

“I didn’t think so,” Big cocks off.

Unlatching the screen door to get this over with, Big grabs the steel frame and swings it wide open. I step back to give him space to lumber his giant ass into my house. He claims a seat at the small dining room table. In Kit’s spot. I wanna order him to get the fuck up, because that’s where she sits, but think better of it. Across from him, I drop into Adam’s vacant chair. Big eyes me and does a thorough once-over. I know I look like dogshit. I’ve lost more weight since we’ve been home. Nothin’ tastes good anymore. Not even the alcohol. It’s a means to an end.

“Adam told me you’ve been talkin’ to yourself,” Big blurts out of thin air, catapulting us into a conversation I don’t wanna have.

Here we go.

“I’d suggest you leave my son out of this,” I warn, unimpressed with the low blow, but not surprised by it either. I’m sure Adam doesn’t enjoy hearing me beg Niki to leave, any more than I like having to argue with a ghost. It makes sense that he’d talk to Big about it. I can’t blame the kid. I might do the same if I were in his shoes.

A deep rumble bangs around Big’s chest, as he attempts and fails to conceal his laughter. “I’d suggest you quit bein’ a prissy bitch and tell me what’s doin’. Not as your brother or your prez, but as your friend, asshole.”

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