Page 47 of A Handsome Devil

Hunt’s offer flickered through my brain. “Let’s bundle this guy into the car. I’ve got something important to tell you, Truman.”

CHAPTER 19

Truman

There were too many people to even stand in our living room, so Ozzie Whitworth quickly got Hunt, Thymus, and Pickett their own three-bedroom trailer nearby. Of course, when we piled into that living room, it was still standing room only.

On our way rustling up the steps, Alessio grabbed my arm. He spoke to me from the corner of his mouth, though no one else was looking at us, too wrapped up in their own proceedings. “Truman. Hunt just offered for us to move to Rough and Ready. Maybe even join their MC.”

I stopped, causing Erin behind me to crash into me. I didn’t move an inch, spellbound in my stillness. “What?”

His Sicilian face was—for once—mellow, at ease. “Yeah. Think about it.”

“Let me by,” growled Erin, gripping a box of Pickett’s belongings.

I said, “I don’t need to think about it. It’s a no brainer.”

I’d never seen his smile that warm. Happy as a big sunflower. “Let’s do it.”

As we crowded into Pickett’s new living room, questions swarmed my brain. Do we take Erin, Gunning, and Denmark to Rough and Ready? How could they ever go back to the Establishment Club now they were part of the Undisputed Truth Club? But they’d never appeared in any videos. The media and police just knew me, Alessio, and Denmark. The possibilities swirled around my head, actually making me dizzy. Now I was as jumpy as a virgin at a prison rodeo.

Gunning had brought beer into Pickett’s trailer, and the man himself now raised one. “Back to my old ways!” Pickett declared. “This is better for me than Tango and Cash!” And he chugged about half the bottle.

“My man!” Denmark proclaimed, having to yell above the others. He rattled what looked like a paperback above his head. “’The story of one of my follies’!” He had to stick his arm past several shoulders to give the book to Pickett. “My man, my favorite poet of all time, Arthur Rimbaud!”

I realized Denmark had stolen that book from my kitchen. It even made me prouder.

“Are you giving this to me?” cried Pickett.

“Of course, my road dog! You’re squaring up, getting out of the life. You’ll need Rimbaud to help you along. Poetry keeps us alive.”

Pickett bawled, “I want you to save some of my other friends at Pine Valley. Like Shelby!”

On tiptoes, Erin inquired, “Isn’t he the guy with the mummy?”

“Yeah,” admitted Pickett, nearly sobbing with joy.

I practically teared up at such a sad/happy moment, like when street dogs get a bath, a new loving home.

Erin shouted, “Will you be taking Pickett to Rough and Ready?”

Hunt hoisted his own beer above people’s heads. “Of course! This marks the end, the kibosh to that fucking cemetery of doom, Pine Valley.”

Thymus roared, “I’ll start my own assisted living!”

After the hubbub of agreement died down, I called out, “Has anyone heard from Jack Hoffman how it went after we left?”

To my surprise, it was Alessio next to me, free hand cupping the back of my neck, who boomed, “Yeah! He texted he’ll be here as soon as he gets free of all the clamoring relatives and fans.”

Erin took Pickett into his new bedroom to get him settled. It would be soothing for him to have her as assistant—a kind and tender healthcare provider instead of the shrews and coldhearted witches of Pine Valley.

Their departure gave Alessio room to lean into me and murmur, “When should we tell Hunt we want to come to Rough and Ready?”

“Well, we should obviously ask the other three first what they want. Erin seems a good companion for Pickett, and Denmark is basically on the run, too.”

“Yeah. Then we can’t just send Gunning back alone to face the music. Dr. Hawk’s doing an OK job at the Establishment Club, no?”

I shrugged. “As far as I know. We’ve had so many burner phones I haven’t heard from him in a couple weeks. But I google the club, and don’t see any negative press.”