lost and helpless.
A hand touched me on the shoulder and I spun, startled. It was Tubbs. He had been driving the van, rather than a part of the crowd. I nearly flinched away from him, but then I remembered the way we'd spoken the previous night and realized he was just trying to comfort me. His president and friend had just been shot, but he was sparing a moment of comfort for me - there was definitely more to Tubbs than what I had first assumed.
"It was those bastards. Trenchers," he said flatly.
"What happened? Was there a big fight?" I asked him. I was full of questions. There didn't seem to be any other injured, but how could I be sure? Was there going to be retaliation? Will this place be swarming with cops? Did San Viero even have a police force?
"Not a big fight, no," he explained, "We were talking to Martin, the top guy in the Trenchers. Everything seemed to be fine with him, but whatever deal they were making didn't sit well with his vice, apparently. After they shook on it and we started walking away, that prick pulled a Saturday night special and put one in Cash. From the look of it, Martin didn't know it was coming. He was as shocked as we were."
"Holy shit! What happened next?" I demanded. By this point I was twisting the rag so hard in my hands that they were starting to ache.
"Well," he said, "Martin ran for cover, but that prick just stood there like he was gloating or something. He didn't take another shot right away, which was good for us and bad for him. Me and Kurt had our pieces out in a second and he was down. Woulda been a firefight with the rest of the Trenchers, but Cash and Martin were both yelling for their sides to calm down. If that bullet had been a few inches to the side, Cash woulda been gone and there's no way we'd have gotten out of there without a lot more bullets flying."
I feel like I was going to be sick and I was sure I was turning green. I looked down and saw that Tubbs' hands were red with blood, presumably from helping Cash into the van. "Is he okay? Is he going to be okay, Tubbs?"
"Shit, I don't know," he said, exasperated, "He took it in the shoulder, but I don't know what's what. Hep was an army doc, so he knows how to patch guys up. I'm sure he's with him now. Once it calms down a little you should go see him."
"Me?" I asked, off balance, "But... I mean..."
"I'm not an idiot, Emma," he said to me, "Everybody knows the way Cash has been looking at you and the way you've been looking at him. You two might not have everything figured out yet, but it's clear to the rest of us."
I just stood there, too shocked to say anything. I figured that my ride with Cash was the talk of the clubhouse - at least until Cash took a bullet - but evidently the gossips had come to a conclusion that I hadn't. They saw how I felt about Cash, deep down, even if I was trying to deny it to myself ever since Karen had told me. Now I was being confronted with everything, all at once. My feelings for Cash were being put to the test when the evidence of his bloody and dangerous lifestyle couldn't have been more obvious.
Just then, Zach came walking out of the garage. He had a scowl on his face as usual.
"You gonna finish that transmission any time today, Emma? What's the hold up?"
Before I could say anything, Tubbs turned on him and spoke up for me.
"Lay off her, Zach," he said, "Cash took one in the shoulder. He's inside now with Hep."
All of the ferocity went out of Zach's face then, and he quieted down. Apparently even he could see that there was something between Cash and I, and that I had more important concerns than a beat up old Chevy. Tubbs turned back to me and tried his best to smile.
"He's going to be okay, Emma," he said, "Let's get a drink and wait to see what Hep can do."
The two of us walked towards the clubhouse, leaving Zach behind to have the garage to himself. For the first time in a very long time, I had no desire to be in a garage right then. Usually working on cars was a
A hand touched me on the shoulder and I spun, startled. It was Tubbs. He had been driving the van, rather than a part of the crowd. I nearly flinched away from him, but then I remembered the way we'd spoken the previous night and realized he was just trying to comfort me. His president and friend had just been shot, but he was sparing a moment of comfort for me - there was definitely more to Tubbs than what I had first assumed.
"It was those bastards. Trenchers," he said flatly.
"What happened? Was there a big fight?" I asked him. I was full of questions. There didn't seem to be any other injured, but how could I be sure? Was there going to be retaliation? Will this place be swarming with cops? Did San Viero even have a police force?
"Not a big fight, no," he explained, "We were talking to Martin, the top guy in the Trenchers. Everything seemed to be fine with him, but whatever deal they were making didn't sit well with his vice, apparently. After they shook on it and we started walking away, that prick pulled a Saturday night special and put one in Cash. From the look of it, Martin didn't know it was coming. He was as shocked as we were."
"Holy shit! What happened next?" I demanded. By this point I was twisting the rag so hard in my hands that they were starting to ache.
"Well," he said, "Martin ran for cover, but that prick just stood there like he was gloating or something. He didn't take another shot right away, which was good for us and bad for him. Me and Kurt had our pieces out in a second and he was down. Woulda been a firefight with the rest of the Trenchers, but Cash and Martin were both yelling for their sides to calm down. If that bullet had been a few inches to the side, Cash woulda been gone and there's no way we'd have gotten out of there without a lot more bullets flying."
I feel like I was going to be sick and I was sure I was turning green. I looked down and saw that Tubbs' hands were red with blood, presumably from helping Cash into the van. "Is he okay? Is he going to be okay, Tubbs?"
"Shit, I don't know," he said, exasperated, "He took it in the shoulder, but I don't know what's what. Hep was an army doc, so he knows how to patch guys up. I'm sure he's with him now. Once it calms down a little you should go see him."
"Me?" I asked, off balance, "But... I mean..."
"I'm not an idiot, Emma," he said to me, "Everybody knows the way Cash has been looking at you and the way you've been looking at him. You two might not have everything figured out yet, but it's clear to the rest of us."
I just stood there, too shocked to say anything. I figured that my ride with Cash was the talk of the clubhouse - at least until Cash took a bullet - but evidently the gossips had come to a conclusion that I hadn't. They saw how I felt about Cash, deep down, even if I was trying to deny it to myself ever since Karen had told me. Now I was being confronted with everything, all at once. My feelings for Cash were being put to the test when the evidence of his bloody and dangerous lifestyle couldn't have been more obvious.
Just then, Zach came walking out of the garage. He had a scowl on his face as usual.
"You gonna finish that transmission any time today, Emma? What's the hold up?"
Before I could say anything, Tubbs turned on him and spoke up for me.
"Lay off her, Zach," he said, "Cash took one in the shoulder. He's inside now with Hep."
All of the ferocity went out of Zach's face then, and he quieted down. Apparently even he could see that there was something between Cash and I, and that I had more important concerns than a beat up old Chevy. Tubbs turned back to me and tried his best to smile.
"He's going to be okay, Emma," he said, "Let's get a drink and wait to see what Hep can do."
The two of us walked towards the clubhouse, leaving Zach behind to have the garage to himself. For the first time in a very long time, I had no desire to be in a garage right then. Usually working on cars was a
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