Into the Storm (Signal Bend #3)(17)

In fact, Show was surprised to see Isaac here, sitting alone in the Hall, with only Omen, the newest Prospect, around. But the kid was working, stocking the bar.

Isaac looked over the back of the couch as Show approached. “Hey, brother. Where you been? Checked in at the feed store, but they said you weren’t around today.”

Show sat down in a leather chair near Isaac. “You keeping tabs?”

“Today, yeah. I am. You okay?”

Of course Isaac would remember what this date meant. Lilli had been attacked, too, a year ago. But she was a former soldier. She’d gotten the drop on her intruder. His family had not been so skilled or prepared.

Lilli hadn’t been so lucky, either, the next time Ellis had come for her.

“Maybe. I might be okay someday. Packed up Daze’s stuff today.”

Isaac turned off the television and leaned forward, his brows drawn. “Jesus, Show! You did that on your own? Today?”

“No other way, boss. Had to be today. And it’s my weight to carry.” To change the subject, he asked, “Shouldn’t you be at home?”

Isaac’s laugh at that was rueful at best. “Yeah, well. Takin’ a time out. Woman’s got her battle gear on.”

“You storm out or she throw you out?” He knew the answer—they were both stormers, not throwers.

Isaac shrugged—he knew Show knew. “Got a call from Stan in California. The movie is starting to happen, I guess. He wants to send a couple of people out—writers or something—to do interviews. Made a point that he wants Lilli’s story. She won’t tell it. She doesn’t want it told at all.”

Ellis had had Lilli tortured and raped. He’d been big on hiring people to rape women. And girls. Show’s fists clenched. “You can’t tell that story. That’s Lilli’s pain. You know that, Isaac. Tell me you’re not pushing her on that.”

“No! Jesus Christ, of course not! Give me some goddamn credit. I don’t want what happened to her being turned into f*cking entertainment! No—she lost her mind because I told him no without checking with her first. Even though we already talked about all this. Came right out of left field. I stood there like an * with my mouth hanging open. Once I got my sense back, I had to get out of there before I said something I’d regret.”

Show laughed. Really laughed. “You are an *. That’s not left field, Isaac. When you make a decision about her with this movie, even to protect her, you’re taking her out of the loop.”

Isaac glared at him. “She should f*cking trust me. No way I’d hurt her.”

“You should f*cking keep her involved. She needs to have control over that.”

Crossing his arms, Isaac was practically pouting. “Don’t want to talk about my shit anyway. I asked how you were doing.”

Show laughed again. “Rather talk about your shit than mine. I like seeing you fall on your face.” Isaac flipped him off. Smiling, Show pulled the copy of Neuromancer out of his kutte. “You know this book?”

He handed it over.

“Yeah. Read this when I was maybe seventeen, eighteen. Pretty heady stuff. You taking up cyberpunk?”

“Don’t know what that is. No—Daze was reading it. Found it open on her bedside table. Thought I’d finish it for her.”

He was looking at the book in Isaac’s hands, but Show could feel him staring at him. He looked up and met his friend’s regard.

“That’s good, Show. Daisy was a smart cookie. She’d have done something great with her life.”

The ache in Show’s heart sharpened at that, but it didn’t undo him. “Yeah, she would’ve.” He took the book back. “Go home, Isaac. Love your old lady. Your beautiful baby girl. You’re a lucky son of a bitch.

Don’t f*ck it up.”

oOo

A few days later, the Horde were in the Keep, sitting around their table. Their world had become much saner in the past year, since Ellis had been taken care of and they’d ended their involvement with crystal meth. They were back to running things legit, or mostly so. Acting as town protectors and de facto police force, taking a cut from the local businesses for their protection services. The local businesses were doing better than they had in years. The so-called “Shootout in Signal Bend” had resulted in the demise of Lawrence Ellis and two major gangs in St. Louis, and had turned the Night Horde into heroes and put Signal Bend on the map. Since then, and with the B&B giving people a place to stay, the antique shops and little restaurants had begun to boom. Hollywood had come sniffing around, and the story had been optioned by some big shot producer. The main reason for this club meeting was Hollywood news.

After Isaac had briefed the table on town business—Mac Evans, the local realtor, had reported that there was a party interested in buying and reopening the shuttered town market—he leaned on the table and said, “I figure most of you were hoping, like I was, that nothing would come of the movie deal. But I got a call from Stan.” Stan was the producer who’d optioned the story. “He’s sending two writers and a photographer to Signal Bend. He talked a lot of jargon about what they would be doing. I f*ckin’ hate the way he talks— it’s like another language half the damn time. But what it amounts to is this: they’re gonna do interviews, take pictures, get what they need to write a screenplay. We need to have a town meeting, get everybody on board about how to talk to these guys. The deal we worked gives us some control, and we need to use it.”