Page 6 of Iron Heart
I glance out my front window toward my driveway. There’s a late-model black SUV parked in it that I don’t recognize. From here it looks like a BMW X5. The last few years, seems like Dom’s got a new car every time I see him.
“Fine,” I grouse. “You can stay for acoupledays. But when I say you’re gone, you’re gone.”
“Of course,” he agrees immediately.
“You had anything to eat?”
“I ain’t hungry,” he replied. “But I could use a couple hours of shut-eye right now. And a shower after that.”
I swivel my head back toward my brother and give him a closer look. For the first time, I notice the five o’clock shadow on his normally clean-shaven face. His eyes are red and tired, like he hasn’t had much sleep lately.
Well, I figure I’ll pry the story out of him later.
Sighing again, I stand and lift my chin toward the hallway. “Spare room’s down the hall, on the right,” I grunt.
“Thanks, brother,” Dom grins, his face brightening again. “Think I’ll go grab my stuff, then.”
Dom heaves himself up off the sofa, and goes outside. A few seconds later, a car door slams, and he returns with a medium-sized forest green duffel bag. I don’t say anything to him as he walks through the living room, then down the hall to what will be his room for the next few days.
I stand alone in the middle of the empty living room, feeling pissed at myself. I don’t like having my space invaded. Not even by family. Hell, especially not by family. With Dom here, any peace and quiet I might have enjoyed this morning is gone.
I’m too jacked up now to go back to bed. I don’t have any jobs scheduled for today, and nothing else planned until church at the clubhouse later on. I decide to go grab breakfast at Della’s, the diner downtown where the MC goes sometimes. A mess of eggs and some bacon might get me out of this shitty mood Dom’s put me in. And even if it doesn’t, Della’s coffee is strong enough to slap an ox awake.
The ride down to Della’s is only a couple miles. I grab my usual booth and eat my plate of eggs and bacon in pretty short order, served by Della herself — with a side order of old-lady sass. A couple of my Lords of Carnage brothers come in just as I’m finishing up, so I stay to shoot the shit with them for a while.
By the time I get back home, it’s past noon. I park my Harley in the driveway next to my brother’s SUV. Cutting the engine, I lean the bike into its kickstand and climb off.
I start to head for my front door, but a mix of voices, familiar and unfamiliar, catch my attention.
Glancing in the direction of the sound, I look across the narrow empty lot next to my house, to the property on the other side.
My neighbors Crazy Millie and her son Eddie are standing on their back lawn. Millie’s in one of her usual flowered pink muumuu things, her silver hair in a kind of cap on her head. Eddie’s in his usual uniform, too — buzzed hair sitting like a short carpet on his large, square skull; blue T-shirt stretching across his thick stomach, and faded jeans that hang low and and loose. Even from here I can tell they’re threatening to expose his ass crack.
They’re not alone, though. Two other people are standing out there with them. One’s a chick I’ve never seen in town before, with honey-colored blond hair piled into a high, messy bun at the top of her head. Even from here, I can tell she’s young and hot. Standing next to her is a scrawny dude her age or a little younger, holding a camera that’s almost as big as his head.
The four of them seem to be lookin’ at something on the ground. As I watch, Eddie keeps pointing to it, then raising his hands up toward the sky. It sounds a little like he’s arguing, but I can’t hear what he’s saying.
I’m not sure how I get the bug up my ass to go over there. Normally, I don’t give a shit about my neighbors’ business, and I expect them to stay outta mine. But my privacy’s already been invaded once this morning. And a brother I don’t particularly want to talk to is waiting for me inside my house, meaning I’m not exactly dying to go back in there.
So before I know it, I’m striding across the vacant lot that separates our two properties.
“Mornin’,” I call out, forgetting it ain’t morning anymore. “What’s up?”
Eddie sees me first. “You seen the apparition yet?” he calls to me.
Jesus, that’s a pretty big word, comin’ from Eddie.
“What apparition?” I ask.
Instead of replying, he spreads his arms wide, indicating something on the ground. He looks up at me with smug satisfaction. “This.”
I come closer. Instead of looking down right away, I slide my eyes over to the blonde.
She’s dressed in jeans, a simple white T-shirt, and a blue blazer. A few honey tendrils escape her high bun, framing her face. The hair on top of her head glows in the sun, almost like a halo. She’s wearing ballet flats, and has a brown leather tote slung over one shoulder. There’s a small pad of paper and a pen in one of her hands.
She’s fucking beautiful. Stunning. Jesus. I’ve never seen anything like it. I don’t even know what it is about her, exactly. All I know is that I have a hard as hell time dragging my gaze away from her to look down at the patch of grass Eddie is pointing at.
Most of it is short, recently mowed. But in the center, there’s some longer grass, kind of in an oval, with some other long parts on the side, and in the center.