Chapter 4 Wren
WREN
You’d think that after sleeping on thousands of beds and sofas over the years, my body would be a little less picky when it comes to a place to lay my head.
But despite the fact the mattress I’m napping on is clean, warm, and new, it somehow isn’t enough for rest.
My stomach twinges painfully, like my gut can’t relax.
Breathing deeply hurts.
Since the confrontation in the kitchen this morning, I’ve hidden in here all day, trying to find leads as to why the FBI has this chapter of the Iron Outlaws in their crosshairs beyond the fact Lucy’s father wanted it so.
I raise the blackout blind and see it’s already going dark.
I have no idea what time of day that happens in Colorado.
It could be three o’clock in the afternoon, or it could be seven.
I have no clue beyond the fact I’ve fitfully worked and napped the day away.
Yesterday, shit went down at Lucy’s parents’ estate…which…who talks like that? I’ve never met anyone with enough money to own an estate.
I assisted with some of it. Accessing security cameras, and hearing Catfish try to organize the club’s response. Yet, I don’t know how it ended, beyond Lucy being safe. I don’t know what happened to the intruders or who they were.
And when Lucy and Grudge got back here, they seemed really shaken by what had happened. I heard Lucy crying.
Whispered words.
Angry tones.
I thought Grudge was going to blow the whole town apart, and he spent an age carrying things in and out of the bathroom while Lucy soaked in the tub.
Grudge eventually took Catfish to one side to explain, but somehow, I was excluded.
A state I’m used to.
I guess I don’t need to know what I don’t need to know.
I wish I were back with King and his men, but then I remember how they didn’t like me, at first, because they thought I had brought trouble to Calista.
While I would never wish for Rae to have been kidnapped, it was an opportunity to show my value.
To earn their respect. And it also gave a foundation for friendship, for them to know I would happily cross lines for the club.
I feel like helping Lucy and Grudge and finding some of the missing club money has shown my value. The friendship part will likely be slow to follow. If it does at all.
Last night, an intense Grudge and highly strung Lucy engaged in high-speed problem-solving mode, and both of them were asking me to do things I knew wouldn’t get them the answers they wanted. What they both needed to do was leave me alone to follow the threads as I unpicked them.
My brain doesn’t work like theirs…all neat and linear. It’s wild, like raw wool that needs spinning into threads that make sense. My superpower is channeling chaos, then seeing patterns.
But because my safety depends on the club’s generosity, I followed their dead ends for three hours until they conceded we’d all think better in the morning after some sleep.
Once I heard the click of their light switch, I went to my room with a plan to work through the night.
Without Lucy and Grudge and Catfish looking over my shoulder, I was able to do my best work. Alone.
Not once did Lucy or Grudge ask me any questions about myself. And I made a choice that I wouldn’t tell them anything either. It will help me leave less of a footprint here and make it easier to go back to New Jersey.
I get up to check some scripts I have running, but the first thing I see is another email from Federal Agent Dorian Chase, demanding I make myself available to him for questioning.
It’s the fifth email he’s sent to an old email address that uses my deadname.
A quick online search after the first contact revealed he’s a supervisory special agent within the National Cyber Investigative Task Force.
The photograph was one of those professional shots with a pale blue background and an American flag.
He’s nondescript. Brown hair combed neatly. Thick ears. Slightly gormless looking. I bet he chews with his mouth open.
I ignore it, like I did the other four.
Agitation ripples through me. There’s too much noise here. A truck on the street outside. The clang of a water pipe as someone takes a shower. This morning, I heard the muffled sound of Grudge and Lucy having sex down the hall.
For a second, I’m jealous at the ease they have around each other as they fall into established gender roles. Grudge is clearly the protector.
I guess everyone’s idea of peace is different. While theirs looks like finding each other and building a life as the head honchos of a motorcycle club, mine looks like a property of my own.
Once upon a time, I used to think it might be nice to share it with someone I could love and trust. But the way a river can erode rocks, time has worn down the edges of that.
Now, it looks like having a large garden and lots of dogs. I think about Mercury, the husky that belonged to one of my foster families. He had thick fur and a mournful howl and never moved when I clung to his fur and cried into his neck as I processed the grief after Mom died.
Just thinking about him makes me feel better.
My work takes me to places on the internet that the average person never strays. Places that often leave me feeling like I have a layer of grease on my skin.
But as I look over to my laptop, I know two things to be true.
One, what I do is never enough.
Two, I’m fed up with living one step away from a panic attack. On top of the anxiety Rae has already told me I suffer from.
Heavy rock with mournful vocals and screeching guitar solos blasts from the kitchen.
Why the fuck is it never quiet around here?
“You’re being too hard on them,” I hear in hushed tones in the hallway. I think it’s Catfish speaking.
“And you should be more fucking stressed than you are.” Yeah, that was definitely Grudge.
“I am. But pressuring Wren doesn’t get us any of this any faster. They’re fucking terrified.”
“So am I—that we won’t get that money back.”
The voices trail off as they head to the kitchen.
It’s easy to understand why Grudge, the new president, is worried. Anyone starting something new has a big chip on their shoulder to try to prove themselves.
I hate that my natural empathy is winning out here.
But I quickly change out of the pajamas I thought might help me nap, into a pair of heavy cargo-style jeans and a black hoodie that I stole from Niro.
It has the Iron Outlaws New Jersey logo on it.
I thought it wasn’t cool to wear the logo if you weren’t an affiliated member of the club, but Niro reassured me I was family and if anyone had a problem with it, to go talk to him about it.
He also told me once he’d convinced the brotherhood to make Cat a brother, he’d help me become one too, if I wanted.
I don’t.
But right now, I want to channel a little bit of his “I don’t give a fuck” energy. The energy that allows him to think so broadly, you can’t guess what he’s going to say next. The reason I was dreaming about hurricanes and dark green kites.
I want to feel like New Jersey has my back, even if Colorado doesn’t yet.
Grabbing my laptop from the desk, I walk out into the kitchen, where Grudge and Catfish immediately stop talking when I enter.
Catfish looks at my face; concern washes over his at what he sees. Maybe I look as exhausted as I feel. But the way his eyes rake over me gives me shivers. The good kind. I focus on the sensation rather than the biological function.
Then, his head snaps to Grudge. “You and Lucy need to go out to dinner tonight,” he says.
“We do?” Grudge asks.
“Yeah. Celebrate. You’re on the path to having your conviction expunged. Step one done. Go get sundaes or whatever you guys want. I’ll work with Wren.”
That was part of what I found yesterday. The proof that Lucy’s father had a role in getting Grudge sentenced to prison for something he hadn’t done.
“Fine. Lucy is downstairs talking with Quinn.” He grabs her coat off the back of the door. “Hey, Wren. Sorry again for earlier. You being here has been really fucking useful. I’m sorry I got in your face this morning.”
I raise my hand. “It’s fine.”
“It’s good of you to say so, but it’s not. Contrary to first impressions, I’m not an asshole. Will try not to reinforce that perspective going forward.”
The door closes with a slam, and I jump at the sound, even though I’m expecting it.
“Sit,” Catfish says, pointing to the stool at the kitchen island.
Without a better plan of my own, I do as he says and open up my laptop.
“Are you going to do some more work?” he asks.
“I’m not giving up on the crypto just yet.”
Catfish smiles softly. “Then let me make you dinner while you work. You haven’t eaten. You’ll be hungry.”
I am, but my stomach feels raw.
“Don’t worry,” he says, as if reading my mind. “Thought I’d make a chicken and dumpling stew. It’s my mom’s recipe.”
He turns the music off, and the quiet is so overwhelming, it almost sounds deafening. I sigh and rub my temples.
“You cook?” I ask.
“Do I look like I can’t?”
“I don’t know. Half of the New Jersey chapter were great cooks. Niro can bake anything. Vex makes a mean barbecue. But Clutch, meh, not so much.”
Catfish grins. “Yeah, well, I help my mom and my sister and her two kids out a lot. Pizza won’t cut it every time.”
He goes around the kitchen and flicks off most of the lights, just leaving some under-the-unit lighting so he can see what he’s doing by the chopping board.
Slowly, he pulls ingredients for the chicken and dumplings, and, randomly, a candle in a glass jar from the bag. It’s lilac and says it’s lavender scented, but it’s too early to tell.
Lavender for relaxation.
He lights it with his lighter and puts it next to my laptop.
The lights.
The silence.
Food that will be easy on my stomach.
I could hug the man.
I close my eyes, take in a deep breath, and blow it out slowly.
When I open my eyes, he’s right on the other side of the kitchen island, resting his elbows on the cool surface.
“You know, if you want to survive here, you’re gonna have to start asking for what you need.”
The comment catches me off guard. As does his proximity, which seems to have the same effect as flipping the switch to my libido. His eyes really are the most intense shade of denim blue.
And his lips look so soft and thick.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, we have your safety covered. There are cameras all around this building. Atom is just across the street. Grudge is at the diner a block away. I’m right here, and we’ve already moved more weapons in than you’re probably comfortable with.
We got your safety covered. But on a scale of one to ten, how on alert have you been? How strung out? How stressed?”
I’m about to admit I’m an eleven, but I play it down. “A six.”
Catfish shakes his head. “You think I didn’t notice the way your hands shook this morning when Grudge was hemming you in.
The way your body clock is so fucked up, it doesn’t know whether it’s day or night.
The way you stopped wincing when I turned the lights off, or the wonder in your eyes when I turned the music off. That’s not a six.”
He noticed.
That’s my first thought. This man noticed that I was one step away from breaking down in front of all of them. That alone is enough to bring me to tears. I hate the show of weakness.
When he sees them, he reaches for the bag on the other counter and places it in front of me. “My mom’s a witch,” he says.
I blink back the tears. “I didn’t see that as the lead in for your next sentence.”
He smiles. “I know. She’s not for everyone, but she’s everything to me. And she’s worried about you. So, she sent these.” He pulls out a white pyramid that looks like it’s made from an opaque kind of salt. “Selenite. For better vibes.”
I run my fingers over the slightly rough surface. “That’s really sweet of her.”
“I’m not done.” The next thing he pulls out is a dark green or gray obelisk. It’s cool and smooth to the touch. “This is for grounding and protection and reducing stress.”
I pout my lip out as I look at the pyramid and obelisk of protection. “That’s so kind of her.”
“One last one.” This one looks like a lump of petrified wood or coal. All rough edges. But when I touch it, my fingers come away clean.
“What is it?”
“Apparently this is the mothership crystal for when you’re in trouble. Black tourmaline. She says she’s gonna pray for you.”
I often wondered what it would feel like to have a mom who cared. “Your mom is a very special person.”
He straightens and shrugs. “She also told me Neptune went direct and, for a whole bunch of reasons that I didn’t really follow, you should take up journaling.”
I laugh at that. “You don’t believe in all this, do you?”
He bites down on his lower lip for a second, and I see how perfectly straight and white his teeth are. “She does. And I guess, the question really is, do you?”
I think about it for a second. Having a mom, anyone’s mom, worry about me enough to take action and send energy to keep me safe feels like something worth believing in.
I hold the tourmaline in my hand, close my eyes, and breathe for a second. “Yeah. I think I do.”
Catfish smiles. “Good. Now, as you ruthlessly pointed out this morning, I can’t help you do the work, but I can make sure you get what you need while you do it.
So, in the future, if the lights are too bright, just dim them.
If the music is too loud, turn it down. You get hungry, open the fridge and eat what you want.
You don’t see anything there you like, let me know and I’ll get it.
You got everything you need to get started? ”
I nod. “I do.”
“Good.” He picks up his knife. “Then let’s get to it.”