Staring out into the night, he puffed on his cigarette like his life depended on it, feeling like he might actually explode if he didn't fuck … something.
Debbie's hand appeared on his arm, her touch an electric surge to his already fried system. "I'm really sorry. I just got-I don't know. It was, um-it was just too fast." The hand on his arm began to quiver almost as much as her voice. "I don't know-"
Preacher cut her off by shoving a cigarette between her lips. "Shh," he growled, "and let me calm the fuck down."
They smoked in silence. Preacher lit one cigarette after another until the mountain in his jeans was more of a semi-hard mound and his heartbeat had returned to normal.
When he eventually chanced another glance at Debbie, he found her with her arms wrapped around her legs, chin resting on her knees, nervously twisting a small silver ring around her finger. And now that he could think clearly, he felt like a first-class asshole.
"Wheels," he said, sighing. "Look at me."
Her big brown eyes lifted, full of riotous emotions that Preacher wasn't going to begin to guess at.
"Whatever bullshit you got goin' on inside that head of yours, it better not be because of me. I ain't mad. You don't gotta fuck me. Hell, you don't even gotta talk to me and I'll still get you to the city. A promise is a promise."
"What about you?" she asked.
"What about me?"
"After you get me to the city. Are you going to stay … or are you going back on the road?"
Preacher studied her. "You tryin' to ask me something specific?"
She stared at him a moment, then shrugged. "Just wondering."
It was too flippant a tone, too cavalier a gesture to be anything other than a lie. And Preacher wondered if that's why she'd stopped him. It made sense-why would a good girl like her want to sleep with an asshole like him, especially if he was just going to cut and run in a few days?
"I don't know." He rubbed his neck. "I got some shit goin' on with my dad."
"I know, but … why don't you just talk to him?"
Preacher snorted. The idea that The Judge would be willing to hear anything Preacher had to say was a pipe dream at best. His old man was wired wrong. He couldn't actually listen to anything anyone said. He was built to give orders, nothing more.
"That ain't gonna happen."
"Why not?"
"Because if it doesn't have somethin' to do with him or the club, he doesn't give a shit. He was in the Marines and the Navy, Wheels. He thinks he's the biggest, baddest thing out there. He thinks he's seen and done it all, and only he knows best. And he thinks we're all his goddamn soldiers. He can't handle anyone questionin' him. He can't handle anything but blind fuckin' obedience." Preacher shook his head. "I used to look up to him. I used to want to be just like him. But now … " He trailed off, unsure of what to say, unsure of what he wanted.
"So what, then? You're just never going home again?"
He didn't answer her right away. He'd been asking himself the same question every day for months now and had yet to come up with anything even resembling an answer.
"I don't fit there anymore," he eventually said. "That's his world, not mine."
The statement was true. The Judge had always liked flat surfaces and straight, even lines. He liked all his soldiers lined up in a row, ready to salute. And Preacher didn't have straight lines anymore. He'd never had straight lines, but now … he was all over the place-a mess of jagged edges and incoherent scribbles.
"You're so lucky," she whispered, and Preacher was startled to find tears shining in her eyes. "You're so stupid, too. You don't even realize how lucky you are. You have this huge family, all these people, and they all love you." Shaking her head, she gestured passionately with her hands. "They love you so much that they're angry with you for taking off. And they're so happy you're back, and you're just going to leave them again because you're scared of your dad-"
"I ain't scared of him," Preacher interjected. "That cranky old bastard-"
"Wants you around!" Debbie snapped. A tear slipped free from the corner of her eye, glinting in the moonlight.
"You're so stupid," she continued, her voice cracking. "You're so lucky and you don't even realize it. I wish every day I had a family like yours."
Preacher stared at her, feeling a little bewildered, and ten times the asshole he'd previously thought himself to be.