Page 45 of Conan
I don’t think it’s working for us, we aren’t used to being in stasis.
We were a mobile club while living the nomad life, and since we are at a standstill, we’re bored and it’s made some of us angsty.
“Everyone, get your tools and pick a man. Don’t be stingy, we have four to choose from,” Kodiak announces. I get a hop in my step as I head toward the storage closet, which isn’t really a traditional one, it’s an entire room filled with our tools of the trade. We each have claimed a section for ourselves.
My excitement has me singing a good-humored tune as I go through my shelves and each one of my drawers. “The stars at night are big and bright.”
The guys clap five times, and sing the chorus, “Deep in the heart of Texas.”
Kodiak chuckles before saying, “Alright, men. We aren’t trying out forAmerica’s Got Talent, but I can appreciate your enthusiasm and harmonization. With that being said, keep your heads in the game.”
“Yes, pres,” we all drone in unison, used to being scolded by him as if we are his children and not his brothers.
“Kodiak, one day I’m gonna pull that stick out of your ass,” I tease, kidding around with him. I can’t let the opportunity pass by without giving him a hard time.
“Conan,” he counters, “one day, I’m gonna shove my foot up your ass and make you taste your own shit.”
“It can be my hors d'oeuvre before I make shit cakes to shove them down your throat,” I declare.
“The fuck is that, houres de voure?” Hemi asks, butchering the words.
“It’s a fancy word rich folks use for appetizer,” Kodiak answers. When all heads turn in his direction, he asks, “What? I know things.” When we still look at him skeptically, he realizes we don’t believe a single word coming out of his mouth so he tacks on, “Fine, Iknowwhat it means because Luna put it in one of her books.”
“You read your wife's sexmance books?” Risk asks, mirth blazing in his eyes.
“What can I say, there are instances that she asks me if a scene is realistic so I read it and give her my opinion,” he says, defending himself.
“Do y’all act these things out to see if they’re realistic?” I ask, taunting him.
He turns around so fast that he nearly loses his balance before shooting me a warning look and pointing his finger at me. “That’s none of your business, Conan.”
“Oh, fuck! Y’all do, don’t you?” I ask, my volume coming out higher than necessary.
When my brother hangs his head, Regulator chuckles and tells us, “Hell yeah, they do.”
Then Midas mumbles, “Lucky bastard. Think she can hook me up with one of her writer friends? I wouldn’t mind being a test subject.”
“This discussion is closed,” Kodiak grits out. “Gather your gear, it’s showtime.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” I say, saluting him. He ignores me and continues marching away, his tool belt loaded down with some of his favorite carpentry tools.
I quickly grab my zip bag and load it down, then follow his path, the remainder of my brothers directly behind me.
It’s showtime!
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
DEMI
THREE WEEKS LATER
As Luna writes her book,I dance around the truth with some of her questions. I think she knows I’m doing this but doesn’t raise an eyebrow at me in contradiction or call me out on my fibs. For her protection, as well as my own, there are some things she shouldn’t know and most definitely shouldn’t include in her storyline.
She writes fiction for a reason.
She will make an author’s note that says it’s loosely based on a true life encounter, but she won’t name any names or list any places. She will emphasize that it’s fictionalized to protect the identity of the survivor. She’s also putting a note in the back with resources for those who have been the victim of a sexual assault. I found those links and sent them to her already.
