Page 2 of Iron Hearts
It was an added insult to injury. One that she and I were fighting to this day becausefuck…
I hated the fucking world for that one.It should have fuckin’ been me…
My thoughts were pulled from their meandering path by the door to our VP’s office opening. I was out in the open floor plan with a smattering of a few other desks – mostly empty up here. I hated being boxed in and preferred the open, now that I didn’t have to worry about snipers or roadside IUDs and shit.
Renegade and Shadow each had their own offices, the doors remaining closed despite their open-door policy with the rest of the shop and the guys in the club.
We didn’t tend to bother either one of them with any personal shit. We tended to keep it official club business with our leadership.
Anything personal, we took to each other or to the club’s Chaplain – Pope. Me, I just kept it to myself for the most part. I didn’t feel like baring my soul to just anyone. I was always down to help anyone else who needed it, though.
If I couldn’t have Byron back, I’d settle for preventing anymore to go like he did, or worse, from actual suicide. I was pretty sure Byron hadn’t wanted to die. He was reaching out for help at every turn. I think he just overdid it. He had everything to live for in his kid… even if he and his wife were on the outs and sleeping in different rooms when he’d died.
I slammed the door on the thoughts of a twelve-year-old girl finding her dad like that on his bathroom floor and looked up at Shadow’s approach.
“What’s up?” I asked, raising my eyebrows at the look of consternation on his face.
“Do me a favor and get the guys in here.”
“Full table?” I asked curiously.
“Yeah, non-negotiable,” he said unhappily.
“Shit,” I muttered and picked up the handset on my desk phone. Shadow marched past me and headed down the front stairs in the direction of the shop below, no doubt to scare up Renegade.
I went down the phone tree and let everyone know what was up, to get their ass in gear, and get in here.
At least it was always two birds with one stone when it came to Skull & Bones.
I rang up the two brothers first, and Skull answered on the first ring. I could hear an announcer in the background as he grunted into the phone by way of greeting.
“Skull, Striker here. You and Bones need to get in here yesterday. Something’s up.”
I heard him swear low and soft in a string of Cajun-French. “A’ight, be d’ere soon,” he said and hung up.
I pressed the button on the receiver and punched the next speed dial down the line. It would ring through to Enigma.
“Yo,” he said.
“Clubhouse, now,” I said.
“What’s up?” he asked.
I laughed. “Motherfucker, you know better.”
“Right,” he said and grunted. I could hear a bunch of bombs and gunfire going off in the background.
“Sorry to interrupt your stream,” I said. “Duty calls.”
“Copy that. Be right there,” he said and cursed before hanging up. Sounded like the curse of every frustrated gamer when they took a kill shot to their toon’s dome in-game.
Next was Kain.
“Yellow?” he answered in his deep, melancholy voice.
“Club. Now.”
“I got’cha,” he said and hung up.
