7. Quake
QUAKE
“Anyone know why Pres called church?”
Leaning back in my chair, I ignore Pilot’s question. The only reason I’m aware of is me, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to give any of my brothers a head start on the teasing bullshit.
“No clue,” Zombie says.
“Seriously?” Pilot counters. “You’re the VP.”
“I’m aware. But my title doesn’t change the fact that I don’t fucking know.”
“Someone didn’t get laid last night,” Romeo, the club’s secretary, teases.
Zombie flips him off which only makes our brother laugh. The focus of this meeting may be me, but no one is safe from good old fashioned ribbing.
“Morning, ladies,” Lyric says when he enters the room, and his eyes immediately find mine.
This should be fun.
“The suspense is killin’ us, Pres,” Pilot says before Lyric even has a chance to sit. “What’s going on?”
“I’m glad you asked, and I’m gonna let Quake fill everyone in.”
“Gee, thanks,” I mutter, rolling my eyes.
Pres chuckles. “Any time, brother.”
“Can we get on with it?” Whiz demands. “Zoey needs my help at Death’s Door today, and I promised I’d be there by noon.”
“You’ll be there,” I tell him. “This won’t take long.” Whiz nods, and I continue. “I went to Sacred Haven yesterday, and they’re not doing so hot.”
“So we’ll donate some money,” Boondock, our treasurer, says with a shrug. “That’s not exactly church worthy.”
I cut my stare to Lyric. “I agree.”
“What Quake is failing to mention,” he begins with a smirk. “Is that Sister Beatrice paired him with another nun to work on things that could provide a more permanent solution.”
“Sister Beatrice knows that monetary donations aren’t guaranteed,” I explain. “She’s hoping that Sister Emiliani and I can come up with fundraising ideas that could take place on a regular basis.”
“Sister Emiliani?” Sawbone, the club’s doc, queries.
“Yeah. Apparently, she named herself after the patron saint of orphans and abandoned children,” I explain.
“Aw, fuck,” Whiz says. “You Googled that shit, didn’t you?”
“And this is why I called church,” Lyric taunts with a laugh.
I don’t confirm or deny Whiz’s accusation, not that it matters. Every brother knows me well enough to know it’s true. There’s no fucking way I’d have known that stupid piece of information otherwise.
“Did you and the nun come up with anything?” Zombie asks, and I’m surprised he’s not giving me a hard time like the others.
“We did. Mostly events like clothing drives, toy drives, bake sales to generate discretionary funds, and stuff like that. Unfortunately, we got interrupted by some of the kids, so we’ll be meeting again at some point.”
Zombie’s demeanor shifts from business-minded to irritating bastard. “Look at that,” he says. “More charity events.”
“What?”
“You know,” he begins thoughtfully. “That’s how I met Lucy.”
“Congratulations?” I counter.
“Maybe this Sister Emiliani is your future wife,” Zombie states as if it’s the most logical idea in the world.
“And maybe you’re the future Pope,” I retort, annoyed.
“Could happen.”
“No.”
“Stranger things have happened,” Zombie says.
“She’s a nun at a Catholic children’s home,” I snap.
He shrugs. “So?”
“Jesus, you’re infuriating,” I gripe.
The entire room breaks out in laughter, all at my expense.
Zombie points at me. “Brother, if this chick falls in love with you,” he wheezes. “I’m never letting you live it down. The only thing that would make it better is if you fall in love with her. Imagine, you and a nun…”
The laughter only gets louder, and I push away from the table to stand.
“You’re all fucking insane,” I bark, storming to the door and leaving.
As I make my way to my suite, I breathe deeply in an effort to calm my frustration. My brothers are annoying, and they piss me off to no end sometimes, but I still need to remind myself that they do it because they love me.
Love… They seriously think there could be love between me and a goddamn nun.
“Insane,” I mutter.
My traitorous brain counters with a question that has me reeling.
Is it insane, or is it exactly right?