Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Garrett scoffed. “No one goes hungry in the Red Cloud family, do they?”
“Not anymore,” Hawk confirmed. “Not you, either. Raina feeds me a couple of nights a week. If you want to come by, there’s room at the table. But I can’t get you any work. Sorry.”
Garrett rolled out of the lot and Hawk watched him go. Shooter turned to head back across the lot.
“Chris.”
“You don’t have to say anything.”
Hawk scowled. “Feels like I do.”
Chris sighed. “I don’t know who you were, David. But I know who you are. I wasn’t exactly the town golden boy myself,” he admitted.
Hawk and Shooter had both been born and raised in Rapid City, but most of the similarities ended there. Hawk grew up on the Rez, Shooter in the Badlands Buzzards MC. Their paths hadn’t crossed until they ended up on the same bus to Basic.
“I boosted cars,” Hawk confided. Instead of being shocked or even irritated, Shooter grinned. “We boosted cars,” Hawk corrected. “Garrett and I. That whole summer. The night I got busted spray painting signs, our younger cousin Eddie got away. Garrett had swiped a ride parked downtown and was on his way to pick us up. I got busted, wouldn’t rat on Eddie. Garrett got busted, wouldn’t rat on me. He went to prison and I enlisted. He kept going back to prison, while I managed to get my shit together.” Hawk sighed. “If I hadn’t re-upped when he got out, I could’ve come home and kept him out of trouble.”
“Or he’d have drug you down with him,” Shooter pointed out. “And you’d be where he is now, an ex-con who can’t get work. And Raina would never let you near those kids.”
“He’s family,” Hawk argued.
Shooter shook his head. “Doesn’t make it easier to save them. Just hurts more if you can’t.”
Chapter 17
Tildy couldn’t help but glance at the clock on the wall.
“You’re late,” Mariposa observed.
Tildy shook her head. “No. Just looking.”
Mari narrowed her eyes at Tildy. “Something is different.”
Tildy blushed. “No.”
“Ay.” She took hold of Tildy’s chin and lifted her head a little. “I know this look. Excitement. You have a boy.”
Tildy rolled her eyes. “No, I don’t.”
Mari waved her hand. “Yes. Boy. My girls? They get this look. Always the same. Always a boy.”
“He’s not a boy,” Tildy replied.
Mari grinned. “So it’s true.”
Tildy sighed. “Well, there’s... someone. But he’s not a boy. He’s a man.”
Mari looked at her. “How old?” she demanded.
“Um. I don’t know. Thirty-ish?”
Mari considered this and nodded. “My Joseph was ten years older. It’s not so important. Nice man?”
“We’re just friends,” Tildy insisted.
Mari smirked. “That what he calls it?”
“No, really! He just wants to be my friend.”
Mari scrutinized Tildy’s face for a moment. Finally, she patted Tildy’s hand. “Friend,” she repeated. “Well, you don’t have so many that you can throw away new ones. But guard your heart, Matilda, yes?”
Tildy nodded. “I will.”
After 5 o’clock, Tildy headed to the house of the only other friend she had. She parked in front and headed around back. Skylar’s parents had let her move into the pool house when she started at SDSU, mostly because Skylar’s comings and goings over vacations were otherwise likely to wake her parents. Tildy and Skylar would have moved in together after graduation, but Tildy’s engagement seemed imminent and there appeared to be no point in going to all that effort. Who knew when Skylar would strike out on her own? She had barely scraped by with a business degree, but seemed to have no interest in taking over her mother’s clothing boutique.
Tildy let herself into the pool house where Skylar was in front of a full length mirror, trying on outfits for her Saturday night out.
“What do you think of this?” Skylar asked, running her hands over a skin tight, red dress.
Tildy frowned.
Skylar smiled. “Awesome. If you hate it, it’s fabulous!”
Tildy laughed and stretched out on the bed. Her cell phone vibrated and she slid it out of her purse.
“Is that your Indian?” Skylar asked.
Tildy shook her head. “It’s Tate. He’s going to 1082.” 1082 was a lounge downtown that had never really impressed Tildy. Tate and his friends liked it, which meant Skylar and her friends liked it. “And he’s not my Indian. And it’s not PC to say Indian. He’s Sioux.”
Skylar rolled her eyes. “Whatever. What’s he doing tonight?” There was a slight edge to her voice that told Tildy that her friend really didn’t care what Hawk was doing tonight, since he’d made it painfully obvious that, whatever he was doing, it wouldn’t be Skylar.
“I don’t know. Probably going to that bar again.”
Skylar made a face, but Tildy watched her expression change in the mirror. “You should go,” Skylar encouraged. “That kiss was super-hot. He’s into you. You should meet up with him.”
Tildy guessed that Skylar’s newfound enthusiasm for Hawk had less to do with Tildy having a good time and more to do with Skylar and Tate having a good time in Tildy’s absence- not that Tildy actually cared much.