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"That was my body, not yours," Huck told me, shrugging. "Already got more than a few on my conscience. Saved that one from being on yours. Ready?" he asked the men as our car came into view.
Two of Lo's people were there, one cleaning the car. I could smell the bleach from a couple yards away.
The other stood there with an oversized shopping bag, the handles held open, a silent invitation.
We all knew the plan, dropping our guns in, reaching to rip off the top layer of our shirts, changing colors in case we had been seen.
With that, she gave us a nod, turned, and walked away.
"Alright. You know the plan," Huck said.
And we did.
So we all broke off in opposite directions, walking back toward the clubhouse.
We weren't supposed to go directly there, though.
Reign's crew—Reign, Fallon, Pagan, and Sugar—was the first meant to arrive back, washing off the gunpowder, tossing clothes and shoes in the washer.
The second crew was Cash, Wolf, Virgin, and Roan.
We were to be the third to return, mostly, I thought, because Huck was a high-value member of the club, being the president of the sister chapter.
Then, everyone else would shuffle in after us. Some, the ones who lived close, would go home to shower, to wash their clothes, making their way back only when they knew all the evidence was gone.
But it was all meant to be over by two in the morning.
Every man would be back at the clubhouse. We would have church, go over all the details.
Then, well, if all went to plan, we were free.
Those with women and children could go fetch them from Hailstorm, hug them, bring them home, make up for lost time. Huck and his crew could head back down to Florida, Che and his busted ribs and all.
And the club would go back to normal.
Needing to burn some time, I made it over toward the better part of town, dipping into a convenience store, browsing around.
And then I saw them.
Boxes of Eva's Cosmic Brownies.
Four in all.
Not exactly a lifetime supply, but it was a start.
So I bought them out.
Checking the time, I had about half an hour, and about that long of a walk, so I started back, nodding at Che who was coming in from a different direction.
"Weird flex," Finn said, eyeing my brownies, "But okay," he added, shaking his head as he opened the door for me, not wanting me to transfer any evidence.
"She's waiting in your room," Huck told me, having arrived first, long enough before me that he was showered and changed, his hair wet. "Couldn't have her in the common space. The prospects are going to bleach the floors."
"Reign? The others?" I asked.
"Pagan took a shot to the shoulder. Fallon got grazed on the thigh. As far as I know, that is it. So far," he added, making it clear the night was far from over, and we had a lot of brothers on those streets still, fates unknown. "Shower," he demanded, jerking his chin toward the hall. Clothes go in the bag outside your door. Brooks'll grab them."
"Okay," I agreed, nodding.
"Oh, thank God," Eva said as I opened the door to my room, pausing in the doorway. "Huck said you were okay, but I needed to see it myself. What are you—" she started as my hands dropped the boxes on the dresser just inside, then reached for my shirt, dragging it up and off my body. "Oh," she said, breath starting to come faster as I tossed the shirt into the bag, going for the button and zipper of my jeans as I kicked out of my shoes. "I, ah," she went on, shaking her head, not knowing what to say as I continued to strip until I was in nothing but my boxers.
I paused for the barest of minutes, liking the way her eyes were roaming over me too much to move, before I finally jerked myself out of it, bending forward to tuck the rest of my clothes into the bag.
"Wait," Brooks said, appearing out of nowhere, wearing yellow dish gloves, making me stop and turn. "The brownies," he said, making my heart skip a bit. The nice gesture I made. I couldn't make it. Of course I couldn't. I'd touched them with gunpowder on my hands.
"Right," I agreed, handing them to him with a sigh.
"Eva," he called, making me look at him, then her. "Pull out the nightstand drawer," he demanded, and Eva was a little too in shock to do anything but blindly follow directions. "Hold it out," he demanded as she walked over toward him. Then he ripped into the box, careful not to touch anything inside as he dumped the wrapped brownies into the drawer, one box at a time. "Don't wanna fuck with your game, man, just have to take away any evidence," Brooks said, giving me a knowing smirk. "Wipe that dresser with some bleach. Use some TP and flush it. Then we're all good."
