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They did those threehundred miles in just about four hours, even with two stops to get updates from Lyra. By the time they were in the Laughlin area, Cooper knew that Siena was okay. They’d treated her for smoke inhalation and had wanted to keep her overnight, but she’d wanted to be released. They’d discharged her with some kind of gear for breathing treatments and an appointment for a follow-up with a specialist.
Having no home to return them to, Lyra had taken them to the clubhouse.
Cooper still hadn’t spoken with Siena; Lyra said she’d collapsed into sleep while waiting for the Bulls to call back after she’d been released, and Cooper hadn’t wanted to wake her. But Lyra said she looked alright, ‘considering.’
He just wanted to get to the clubhouse and see for himself. His brain had charged off into some kind of horror movie, and it was throwing some really fucking disturbing images around, filling in the oceanic gaps in what he knew.
No wonder he’d avoided close relationships his whole damn life. This shit hurt! His stomach was sour, his chest tight, his head was fucking screaming, and his hands ached from gripping the handlebars so hard.
The one common refrain in his head, besideshurry hurry hurry, was worry. Siena couldn’t take many more setbacks and obstacles before she simply cracked apart. He knew that. It was pretty much the first thing he’d known about her: that her life was hard and she was wound to the breaking point. And that wasbeforeshe’d started homeschooling Geneva and had to pay for therapy for her as well.
It was also before she’d hadhim, and he meant to see to it that she’d experienced all the stress of this fire already. Whatever she and Geneva needed, he would provide it. Whatever hassles with insurance or cops or whatever, he’d be point. If she needed more medical care, he’d make sure she got it, whatever it was, whatever it cost.
He had money. Never had much to spend it on. Now he did. Things lost could be replaced. The only important thing: Siena and Geneva were safe.
To get to the clubhouse, they had to ride past the intersection that would take him to Desert Lanes and their houses. As they neared that light, Zach, riding alongside Cooper, waved to get his attention and then gestured toward the turn, asking if he wanted to go by there first.
Siena and Geneva were at the clubhouse. He wanted to get to them. But he knew they were safe, and he was almost there. He could take five minutes to see the scene and begin to build some understanding of what the holy fuck had happened.
He nodded, and Zach cut in to ride behind him. In his mirrors he saw the whole club pulling into single file to follow him to the destruction of most of his material life.
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~oOo~
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It was worse than thehorror-movie images his brain had conjured. His house was just ...gone. Not even a partial wall still standing. Just a mountain of ash.
Cooper put his kickstand down and dismounted. Then he stood and stared.
A truck was still on the scene, and a sheriff’s cruiser as well. A couple firefighters were tromping across the ruin. Looking for hotspots, he supposed. The big work lights gave the scene a strange, artificial look. Like it was a hallucination. Sadly, it was not.
He could pick out a few remnants of his life. His box safe and gun safe were badly scorched but seemed still intact. The kitchen sink, burnt black and cracked almost in half. His television was a twisted, melted blob. That was all he could see from the street.
Siena’s house had fared better, but not in any way that mattered. One wall remained mostly standing, showing what was left of her bedroom and the third bedroom she used for storage. A few pieces, like her bed, were recognizable, but nothing was salvageable.
Her car was a burned-out husk on the blackened driveway.
He turned back to the wreckage of his own house. A memory floated forward, of bringing Siena into his home gym for the first time. The way she’d studied his trophies and medals, the way pride had filled his chest. Trophies he’d been winning, and keeping, since the summer after kindergarten. All the way to his championship belt.
Total loss. Everything just gone.
Standing here, he discovered that yeah, he gave a fuck.
Dawn was breaking; the eastern horizon showed the first band of rosy glow. It seemed wrong, that the day should rise and sun would wash over this scene. Something like this should be confined to the night.
“You okay, Coop?” Zach asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. “This is some intense shit.”
Cooper hadn’t noticed him coming up on his side. He looked over his shoulder and saw that all the Bulls had formed something like a protective circle at his back.
“I’m alright. I need to get to the clubhouse.”
“You all need to get back to the other side of the street.” A uniformed deputy approached, his hand on his pistol grip, because he saw seven men in colors and was ready for violence.
“This is his house,” Zach said, stepping between the deputy and Cooper.
Cooper didn’t need the protection, but he liked how his SAA went into that mode like a reflex.
