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“A thousand.”
“You want me to come with? Just for the road trip? I can put Beast in charge for a few days. I’m sure he’d be down with that,” Derringer offered, already knowing the answer.
“No. I appreciate it, brother, I do. But I’m gonna need the head space that the road is gonna give me to prepare myself for what’s coming.” Prosper’s voice was smooth and steady and he said the words casually, but when he held his hand out for the cigarette that Derringer offered, his hand was shaking.
Prosper had Derringer’s respect in a way that few men did, and he had gotten it by earning it. He was as tough as a man could be but was a clear thinker and smarter than his leather and lifestyle made him out to be. He had taken a bunch of wounded, ill-tempered, half-tamed eagles and taught them how to fly again. That’s how Derringer saw it anyway. Only a few short years into its inception, what Prosper had built from the rubble of lost souls had grown into an organization that was a force to be reckoned with.
Prosper was also a courageous sonofabitch and that courage had gotten him through some real hard times and tough spots.
But now he was scared. No other way to see it, no other way to call it.
And Derringer could see that the fear his friend was rocking needed to be named, dealt with, and defeated, or his good friend wouldn’t stand a chance of making it through the next few months. Derringer reached out to Prosper and put a hard hand on his shoulder. “Talk to me.”
Prosper took a long draw on his cigarette and looked at Derringer through the curl of smoke. “This ain’t gonna be easy. I don’t know how to do this. Don’t know if I have it in me.”
“Sure, you do. You’re the toughest man I know, and trust me, coming from me … that says a lot.”
Prosper raised an eyebrow and couldn’t help but let out a tiny grin because Derringer was right, coming from him that statement said a lot.
Derringer leaned back against the wall, folded his arms, and crossed his ankles. If it wasn’t for the coiled muscles that sat taut in his flat stomach and the hard look in his eyes, you would think he was relaxed. “You know, “Derringer began in a matter-of-fact tone, “until a man passes out of his twenties or so, he thinks that given the right circumstances and under the right conditions, he could be the baddest, meanest, hardest-living motherfucker in the world. I know I sure as hell thought it. But then I saw you kicking the shit out of that sweet Sportster all those years ago, and I knew, I knew in my gut what and who you were. I have to tell you, brother, it was liberating and a relief for me to come across a badass like you, because I knew I didn’t have to worry about beingthat guyanymore. After five minutes with you, I knew that position had already been taken.”
Prosper looked at Derringer. “You are so full of shit.”
“Dead to rights.” Derringer lifted his hand in an “I swear” gesture. “You are it, my man. The real deal. If I moved to a martial arts dojo in Korea and studied nothing but that for ten years, if my family was wiped out by the Cosa Nostra and I swore myself to vengeance, if I had one year left in my lousy life and decided to use that time to wipe out the Colombian cartel … or if I just devoted my whole life to being a straight up badass, I wouldn’t hold a fucking candle to you.”
Prosper shook his head. “Not feeling it now, brother. I don’t mind telling you, I never been this terrified in my whole life.”
Derringer let out a long breath. “You remember when we were riding through Montana and we stopped at that rest stop? We were just heading towards the trash after eating a couple of those huge, meaty roast pork sandwiches when out of nowhere had come a small pack of big-ass wolves; drooling, snarling, rabid motherfuckers coming towards us with their bared teeth. Now that’s something you don’t see every day, right? And I am man enough to admit that I was fucking petrified. Paralyzed with fear. I took a look at your face and I knew you were as scared as I was.”
Memory lit up Prosper’s eyes and he ran a hand through his hair. Then he gave Derringer a lopsided grin. “Yeah, me and you have been through some shit, and I don’t mind telling you that that wolf pack was up there with the worse of them. I can still hear their feral ass snarls.” Prosper shuddered. “It was like looking death itself in the face. Those wolves came right out of every man’s worst nightmare.”
“You remember what you did?”
“Pissed my pants?” Prosper snorted.
Derringer shook his head.
Prosper paused in thought.
“You don’t remember?” Derringer posed the question again.
“I know we got our asses out of there. Quick.” Prosper shrugged.
“You stood in front of me,” Derringer told him.
“I did?”
“Yeah, you sure as hell did. You pushed me out of the way and behind you. Then you looked the biggest snarling wolf, the alpha male, straight in the eye. You raised yourself to full height and put your hands up in the air to appear even bigger. Keeping me behind you, you backed us up slowly until we were at the bikes. Once we were there, you kicked up a big rock at the snarling motherfucker and hit it hard on the skull. The wolf yelped out and ran off with the rest of the pack following behind.”
“Huh, shit sure I don’t remember that.” Prosper shook his head.
Derringer continued, “Scared as you were, your first instinct was to look out for the guy standing next to you. And that’s just one time, brother. The things you’ve survived, the lifestyle you chose, and the choices you make? The leader that you are? You’ve looked in the face of death more than a few times, and you know what death did? It backed the fuck down. You got this brother.”
Prosper nodded, hoping Derringer was right because, really, compared to the shitstorm he would be riding into, standing up to a vicious, snarling pack of man-eating wolves seemed tame in comparison.
Magaskawee sat in the corner of the room in a big chair by the window, closed her eyes, and let the sun warm her face. She moaned softly. The pain was getting worse.
“Mamma?” The little hand reached up and touched her cheek. Maggie opened her eyes and smiled into the deep blue eyes of her little girl. Every time she looked at Raine, Magaskawee was amazed at her beauty. At just a couple of months shy of her eighth birthday, Raine showed none of the gawkiness of other little girls her age. She was poised, quiet, and projected an outward calm no matter what turmoil was around her: a dying mother, a heartbroken father, and a little sister who couldn’t seem to sit still.
