Page 145 of Hostile Saint

My lips slammed to hers.

We were never going to be apart again. I knew she would someday handle that we were already married, whether her memory ever came back or not.

Fighting to win back the breath she’d just stolen, I held her face and put us forehead-to-forehead. “If you were to leave here tomorrow, what would you want to bring with you?”

She smiled, hearing me loud and clear. I was promising to take her with me someday. Her lips kissed mine right before she said, “Only my journal.”

The next night, Lynx, Elle, Dagger, Vice, and I were all sitting at the dining room table eating— “What are these called again?” I asked.

Elle beamed. “Tacos!”

“That’s right.” I shoved more in my mouth. “So fu’gging good.”

Dagger laughed. “Kid, if you love tacos, you’re gonna love Texas. We have taco trucks everywhere.”

Licking my fingers, I asked, “What does that mean?”

Lynx explained, “Uh, little trailer-looking trucks that are kitchens on wheels, parked on the sides of roads.”

Mind. Blown.

He laughed at the expression I was making. “Yeah, you just ride on up to one. Hop off your bike, walk up to their little window, and order what you want.”

Vice added sour cream to his fortieth taco. “Wolf-boy, they even have breakfast tacos.”

Whatever my expression was doing now had them all choking on laughter.

Wiping his mouth with a not-so-soft bamboo napkin—since Elle said we were not to kill trees that don’t grow back as fast—Vice told me, “Hey, Pup, be sure to give Lace some extra love tonight. She had a memory in Doc’s office tonight.”

“W-What? Which one?”

“The one where they stuck her in a bag and pushed her down the stairs.”

Losing my appetite, I nodded. “Thanks for letting me know.” Not in the mood for their pity, I spoke before anyone else could. “Doc better not drug her tonight.”

Dagger’s chuckle was a good distraction.

I asked, “What?”

He was grinning big time. “Prez informed Doc the drugs needed to stop.”

Now I was smirking, staring at Lynx. “What did you do?”

He took a swig of beer. “I left a note on his windshield telling him to do his job and stop fucking drugging his patients.”

I shook my head. “You are badass. A fucking note?”

Elle dabbed the corners of her mouth with processed bamboo. “The nerve of that fucker, drugging that baby. Let her smoke a joint if she needs better sleep.”

Vice and Dagger stared, moaning in unison as if she was speaking of one of their most favorite things.

I was shocked. “But the pamphlets at school said marijuana is very bad for you.”

That hit a nerve of Elle’s. “Ah, yes, a plant made by the earth is bad, but the chemicals in our everyday food are just fine. Fucking hypocrites.”

Dagger egged her on. “Get ‘em, Elle. Write our shitty leaders another letter.”

“I will. And I’ll dump a truck of weed onto the White House front lawn.”