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She'd lucked out, in a way, in finding Geoff, as big of an ass as he was. He had given her the freedom and opportunity to use the anger she still held - though now seemed to control better - to take down skips, gave her the chance to be her own boss for the most part.
And, let's face it, gave her the chance she needed, the paychecks she needed, to be able to go about her other mission in life.
Not many jobs allowed you to take off for weeks or months to track down, and kill the men who once ruined your life.
And finding him, finding that lifestyle that allowed her to find some balance, some outlets for her anger, she seemed to be able to dial back some of the anger, become more of a normal person.
You couldn't expect someone like her, who had been through what she'd been through, to be completely average.
But she was as close as anyone could hope.
And she was slowly taking steps in a positive direction.
There had been next to no resistance when Lenny and Peyton pretty much forced their way into her life. And she had even taken to Rey, going over to her place once to meet all the critters, returning covered in various furs, a feather stuck into her hair, and beaming.
And I had finally gotten her to agree to come to the compound.
They were having a get-together of sorts, an end-of-summer cookout. Everyone in need of some levity, some normalcy after such a shitestorm.
While Reign had approved the situation, the jury was out on whether he and Summer and the kids would show up, if they were still too raw, still trying to cope with the loss of Ferryn, even though everyone was in agreement that while she was away from home, she was okay.
Everyone else seemed to be coming. Even Cash, Lo, and their newly adoptive daughter - Chris were planning on making an appearance, though all of us men were asked to keep a wide berth around her unless she approached us. Which, given her situation, no one even hesitated to agree. From what we knew, she was mostly comfortable around Cash, and had managed to give Reign a detailed account of what had happened in the basement, as well as she could remember it.
"The poor girl," Lou said when I finished telling her about Chris being at the party.
"Cash says she's doing alright, considering. Won't go anywhere near basements and jumps at the sound of feet on the steps, and he can't even mistakenly brush her shoulder in passin' without her havin' a little freak-out about it. But that's normal, I'd think."
"I'm surprised she's out of bed," Lou admitted, leashing up Linny to bring with us.
"Aye. Don't know what kinda magic Lo works, but she apparently did somethin' similar with Jstorm back in the day."
"And with all the men and women at Hailstorm - from all walks of life - with all kinds of damage. I imagine she's had loads of experience with damaged people."
She wouldn't openly admit it in so many words, but she was excited to meet Lo, had admired her from a distance since she found out what Hailstorm was.
Lou was a fan of all things badass.
She was in for a treat with the women of the girls club, both the original group, and the 2.0 version.
I wanted her to like them, too.
For selfish reasons.
Because I wanted her to fit in with my people, because I wanted to be able to hang at the compound with her, with my people, who could someday be our people.
Because, quite frankly, I was seeing a future.
Not just a long-term fucking situation.
Something more.
Something that meant givin' up our apartments, getting a place together, doing shite like shopping for furniture, for plates and dishes and glasses that matched and weren't swiped from people she'd done jobs on.
As for the other shite - the paperwork shite... that was up for debate. I didn't give a fuck either way. I didn't need a certificate to tell me how I was supposed to act, how I was supposed to behave with regard to my woman.
But if Lou decided she wanted that traditional thing - the knee, the ring, the dress, the paper, then I would give that to her happily.
All I knew was this was something. This was going somewhere.
So I was glad to integrate her into the parts of my life that she hadn't experienced yet.
"The food better be as good as you claim," Lou warned, giving me a look before we climbed out of her car after parking in the front yard of the compound beside countless other cars.
From up front, I could hear the thumping bass beat of one of Cash's 90s alt songs, knowing full-well that Repo would eventually decide he was over it, and put his metal on.
