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“I feel like I’d do more good if I help take care of the chief here,” I say. “She’d appreciate that more, I think.”
“See that’s just it, that’s what I was talking about,” Cross says, speaking to Ice, not me. Or maybe all of them, just not me. I don’t like that either. It makes me feel eight years old all over again, being in a room full of old scary guys trying to decide what to do with me now that my father is never getting out of prison. But they did right by me, I can’t deny that either.
“What’s just it?” I ask anyway because I am an idiot. “If she wanted me to come, she would’ve told me she was leaving.”
“Alright, you can deal with your juvenile, tender emotions on your ride over there,” Cross snaps at me, the grin gone from his face. “Right now, I need someone loyal to my daughter, which you’ve proven you are by keeping her secrets, watching over her. Plus, the guys I sent after her got chased off the reservation this afternoon. They were shot at, but I bet they’ll let you in, since you’re one of them. Be careful though.”
“I…I’m not… “ What? Not sure what I going to say, that’s what. I’m not one of them. But neither am I not, not one of them. It sounds confusing in my head so it’s a good thing I managed to stop talking.
“Are you willing to go?” Cross asks.
“What are you even asking him for?” Ice snaps. “Of course he’s going.”
I give him a long sideways look. What’s he snapping at me for? I mean, I get it that he’s like her uncle, but… oh whatever.
“Yes, of course, I’ll go,” I say, clearly too loudly, because they all flinch a little. “I’ll leave right now.”
It’s what I wanted to do since the night I dropped her off at the gate. But I didn’t know just how much until this very moment.
“Yeah, best not waste any more time,” Tank says and chuckles again, and gets a very dark look from Cross, for whatever reason.
“Good, Hawk will get you set up,” Cross says. “And you’ll report directly to me.”
They all start getting up, slowly and carefully, the way older guys will.
“And the chief?” I ask.
“Yeah, we’ll take care of that,” Cross says.
“But what do I tell Lily?” I ask and get another round of getting laughed at.
“Tell her she doesn’t have to worry about it,” Cross says. “And that she should’ve told me everything herself.”
“So we’re cool… I mean, you’re not angry that I didn’t tell you?” I ask, because I don’t think much before I speak.
Cross just stares at me with those hard black eyes of his for a couple of seconds. I wish I could tell what he’s thinking, but that’s impossible.
“Like I said, you’re loyal to my daughter and I appreciate that. And if that makes you a little less loyal to me sometimes, I can live with that. That reservation is a lawless, nasty place by most accounts. I need someone who has her well-being in mind always, no matter what, making sure nothing happens to her. And you’re it.”
For the first time tonight, I’m speechless. And at exactly the wrong moment too. It means a lot to hear Cross say what he just did. It sounds almost like permission to have Lily… almost, because I better not presume too much.
“I won’t let you down,” I say solemnly. “Or her.”
“Especially her, I’m thinking,” Tank says, making the rest of them laugh again. I hope the room’s dark enough so they don’t see the flush in my cheeks, because my face is so hot, that I’m sure I’m blushing like some little girl.
“I’d go myself,” Cross says, patting me on the back. “But she’d send me packing faster than you, no two ways about it. Now let’s get this show on the road.”
I’m pretty ready to run straight to my bike and take off. But I let them all exit the room before me.
She’s not gonna be thrilled to see me, there’s no two ways about that either. But this time, I’ll change her mind.
9
LILY
The nightoutside the small window of my cousin Tina’s trailer is pitch black, darker than any night I’ve seen. It’s because the cloudy sky hangs so low over the plain and there’s so little artificial light on the reservation. The Rez, as Tina calls it. She told me to use it too, so I don’t stand out more than I already will.
The dark, floral pattern sofa we’re sitting on is from the seventies, if not older, and looks it, with one armrest ripped to shreds and the other one going that way fast too. Several tiles are missing from the living room floor, and the floor of the tiny kitchen too for that matter. One of the legs of the coffee table is glued on with silver duct tape, and the room smells like water damage—mildew and rot. I’m surprised I recognize it for exactly what it is. It’s a memory that came back as soon as I smelled it. They say smell is the biggest trigger of memories and it seems that holds true for long buried ones as well.
