"Who, me?" I asked. Panic rose in every nerve ending I had. As soon as I said the words, Patriot turned the corner. He leaned against the wall, setting me on fire with his stare. It was like he was challenging me to look away and knew that I couldn’t. He was dressed down in a simple white t-shirt and dark blue jeans. His hair was wet and all the blood stains were gone, but his lower lip was split and ever so slightly swollen. He had his cut over his powerful forearm and he smiled a little at me, relieving the tension.
"Thanks for the offer, Claire, but I should get going."
"But you just got here. You've got to be hungry," she said.
"I'll grab something on the way back to the club. I know it won’t be as good as what you made, but duty calls."
"Patriot," Claire said, walking toward him. She put her hand on his cheek, "you know you're always welcome here, right?"
"Thank you, Claire. I do know, but I think I'm just gonna go."
"You still good with picking Sky up tomorrow?" Rough asked.
"Picking me up from where?" I asked. My head flying back and forth from Rough to Patriot and then back again.
"Your appointment."
"How come you can’t pick me up tomorrow?" I asked.
"I can't. I have an emergency hearing," Rough said. “Just came up.”
Well I had my own car, that Rough had bought me for graduation and I was completely capable of driving it. But I was doing some experimental Gestalt therapy and it had gotten intense. I couldn’t yet tell if it was going to work in the long run, but it had certainly made an impression on my psyche already. Two weeks ago, I’d had a panic attack so strong on the way home that I had to pull over. I wandered into the food court at the mall to try to get a tea to calm my nerves and I ended up seeing someone I thought I recognized from my past. That brought the panic attack back full force and I’d called Claire in tears. Ever since that day, my parents drove me to and from my therapy sessions no ifs ands or buts. I didn’t want Patriot to know all of that though. He’d think I was a total mess.
I was about to make up some lie about my car being detailed when Patriot turned to me. His gaze was so deep and moving that again he communicated to me without saying words. I could get lost in those eyes and never come up for air. Maybe he wouldn’t care that I went to therapy. It was supposed to be a good thing, working on yourself.
"Yeah, I’d be happy to pick up Sky," he softly said. “We can chat more; it’ll be good to catch up.”
And just like that, he erased all of my apprehension. We’d just ‘catch up’ like two perfectly normal people. Even though I felt like a damn was about to break, we’d be cool and discuss frozen yogurt and Tik Tok and climate change.
"Great," Rough said, breaking Patriot’s intense stare by patting him on the back. When Miller patted me like that with his giant paw, I had to lock my knees to keep from falling over. Patriot however, was nearly as big as my dad.
"Have a good night," Patriot said to Claire and Malcolm.
He looked at me then and all of the air seemed to rush out of my lungs. He gave me what looked like a peace sign, which he touched to his cheek. Then he made an L and dropped it down. This time I was the one staring at his lips.
“Night Sky, see you tomorrow,” he said.
I tried the sign, guessing it meant goodbye or see you later.
He smiled when I did it, tapped his heart twice and turned to leave.
Chapter 3
Patriot
"You got a hot date?" Vulture, the new prospect, asked me.
I really hated the guy; he came off as a slimy piece of shit. I wanted to lay him down flat from the moment I met him. The vote for members had to be unanimous, and I couldn't figure out how this fucker managed to get a prospect badge, let alone be voted in as a full member. I had good instincts, it had been necessary for my survival, and every hair on my body stood on end whenever he came into a room. I could tell when the asshole was standing behind me. He was bad news and it seemed I was the only one who could sense it.
"You know I outrank you right?" I stepped up to him until I was so close that I could look down into his sniveling face. You give a guy like that an inch and they stab you the second your back is turned.