Page 111 of Property of Rattler

The boy, about eight or nine, I think, peers around her. He regards me for a long moment, then says a soft, “Hi.”

Bronwyn beams as if he’s said something clever. I pay it no mind, instead, when Dum comes over to take my order, I ask for a beer, then give her a sideways glance. “Is it okay if I have a drink?”

“As your nearly qualified registered nurse, I’d have to say no.” Her mouth curves. “But as your friend, I’ll tell you, one won’t hurt.”

Dum raises a brow when I ask for a glass of wine.

While I’ve got Bron’s attention, I pose my question quietly. “I don’t want to have nightmares tonight. Can you give me some of the good shit?”

She snorts a laugh, then sobers. “Girl, I think you deserve it. I’ll give you some before I leave.”

When I take our drinks back to the sofa, Flynn frowns at my glass. “Medically approved,” I tell him.

I’m surprisingly hungry, so I dig into my food. Flynn copies my example. We’re both about finished when Trixie comes over. She nods approvingly at my empty plate, then gives Flynn an apologetic glance. “Bullseye’s going to call church in a minute. I’ll sit with Ames.” She glances at me. “If that’s okay with you? Ace should be here any moment, I’d like to introduce you.”

Oh yeah, Ace is her son, I remember. I notice Flynn’s looking at me in concern. I nudge him. “I’ll be fine.”

“If she needs me…”

“I’ll come get you,” Trixie responds fast.

After we both watch Flynn swing his way toward Bullseye’s office, his arms bearing most of his weight, Trixie grimaces. Then she turns back to me. “I’m so sorry about your friend.”

Automatically my eyes go to the place where she had fallen, I expect to see blood, but all that’s there is a suspiciously clean square yard of floor. “What have they done with her?”

“They’ll have taken her to the mortuary.”

I blink fast. “But isn’t that dangerous? How can they explain…”

Trixie laughs. “Words’ dad owned the funeral home, passed it on to Words when he died. It belongs to the club now. As Gravity is only a small town, it’s the whole nine yards, chapel, graveyard and cremator. Words is an ordained minister.” Mirth fills her eyes as she chuckles.

Mine narrow. “What’s so funny? Are you suggesting Words will disrespect Satin, he’s going to feed her to the pigs or something?”

Her humour immediately disappears. “No, of course not. He won’t be giving her a full funeral service, and she’ll be cremated. But why the fuck did your mind go to pigs?”

Feeling stupid, I point to myself. “I was studying Forensic Science at Arizona State. I’ve got an interest in how bodies are disposed of.”

“Well, if Words runs out of space in his cremator, perhaps you can advise the boys on how best to deal with the extra.”

She raises a brow, and suddenly we both laugh. “Oh, I’ve got lots, dissolve in lye—downside, of course, is that takes time—or put through a wood chipper. Now, that can get messy, and you’re likely to get covered in shredded body parts.” I wave my finger toward her as if making a point, “And that means lots of DNA for law enforcement to find.”

Slapping her hand on her knee, she doubles over. “Girl, I think you’re going to fit in here just fine.” Then, her eyes still smiling, she confides, “I only laughed when I mentioned Words being a registered officiant, as he was the one who married me and Freak.” Shaking her head, her lips press together. “He was reluctant, but we didn’t want anything particularly fancy, just a quiet wedding here at the club. Of course, we could have had Smooth from New Mexico to officiate, but, oh, well, you’ll have to ask Bronwyn or Pippa what happened when they got married. But back to ours, Words protested he only knew how to conduct funerals, but we pressured him into doing it. He got his revenge by using the same format and words as he would have if someone had died.” She barks a laugh, and then tries to mimic his voice, “Dearly beloved, we’re here to mourn the loss of two dear souls… Well, you get the point.” My eyes widen. “Actually, itwas exactly right for us, all we wanted was to say our ‘I dos’, and he sure did provide some entertainment.”

“It was great,” a strange voice says behind us. “And we all forgot about the rings. I still had them in my pocket, and it was hours later that I remembered them.” The young man plonks himself down beside Trixie.

“It was a perfectly imperfect wedding,” Trixie agrees. “This is our son, Ace.” She looks at the teenager fondly. Then introduces me. “This is Ames.”

He gives me a very adult chin lift. “You’re the one who’s taming Rat.”

“I’m trying to.” I smile back at him.

“Ace, do me a favour and make yourself scarce for a moment.” Trixie says.

“Sure,” he easily acquiesces. “You happen to know if there’s any pizza left?”

“Doubt it, kid. But knock yourself out and go look.”

His brow creases. “You’ve got to stop doing that.”