Garrick's room had one lamp and one window. The bar noise came through the wall like water through a crack.
Her fingers were buried in the wolf's fur and her eyes stayed on the door. Sleep was not coming.
Cutter: Kemp wants the freak in the bar. Now.
A boot hit the door hard enough to jump the frame.
Garrick: She's coming. Back up before I open it.
Garrick got the door half open and Cutter's hand came through it.
His fingers clamped on her arm and bore down until the muscle jumped under them.
Cutter: Walk, bitch. And keep that lying mouth shut unless Kemp tells you different.
The bar had gone quiet. Martin's cut lay on the head table with his ring on top of it.
Cutter dumped her into the chair and her shoulder blade cracked against the wood.
Kemp: Get her upright. I want her eyes on me while she talks.
Kemp: You touched his cut at the motor court. Now you touch his ring.
Kemp: And you tell this club the truth with your hand on it.
Cutter: She'll spin us another fucking story. Watch the lying bitch sweat.
Trixie leaned across the table and slapped her open-handed, right where the lip was already split.
Trixie: Noreen's curse. Same lying mouth as her mama.
Cutter got her jaw in his hand before she could reach the ring. His fingers dug in and split her lip open again.
Copper filled her mouth, and the threat went into her stomach like a stone.
Cutter: Come morning I'll put you in a hole past the sign, and no one will ever find your bones.
Garrick caught Cutter by the wrist and hauled his hand away from her cheek.
Garrick: Touch her again and I'll break it. Ask me if I'm joking.
Cutter: You're a vote with legs, Garrick. Don't kid yourself.
Kemp: Ring. Now. Both hands.
Corrie wiped her mouth on her sleeve and picked it up.
The gold was worn thin on the inside, where a dead man's hand had rubbed it for years.
The bar drained away and everything turned to heat.
The red helmet filled her head. The visor was cracked across the eye, and the woman behind it was breathing hard.
Behind her a map was pinned to the wall, and a red circle was drawn around the Remembrance Ride route.
The woman's voice came through the ring like a mouth pressed to Corrie's ear.
The ride. All of them on the road at once. Clean.
The ring went cold, and the bar slammed back.
Corrie came up out of the chair with her heart slamming.
Corrie: She's going to hit the Remembrance Ride. All of you, on the road at once. That's what she's waiting for.
The bar broke open. Not one laugh. All of them, from every table.
Cutter: She saw a fucking map inside a ring. Jesus Christ, Kemp, you buying this shit?
Trixie: The ride is fifty bikes, you stupid bitch. You gonna kill fifty men with one helmet?
Kemp's mouth never moved. He watched her through the noise like a man counting something.
Kemp: Where did she leave you, girl?
Corrie: A house past the county line. Six kids in one room and a lock on the outside of the door.
Kemp's jaw moved. Something crossed his face and he put it away before the club could see it.
Kemp: She rides in the truck with Garrick. Not on a bike.
Cutter: Kemp, you can't be fucking serious.
Kemp: The word is out. My word. Hands off her, every last one of you.
Kemp: And she stays off that road until this is settled.
Garrick's hand came flat on her back and turned her toward the hall.
Cutter: This ain't over, sweetheart. The ride comes whether the old man likes it or not.
She wanted to thank Garrick and could not get it past her split lip. He was one man, and the whole room was still talking.
Kemp had asked where her mother left her. He had asked it like the answer mattered.
She was worth something to him now. She could feel the trap closing on that.