“Why would they go to the cemetery at arse o’clock on a Sunday?” Rubi had cleared the flour from his hair, a sure sign that he was truly agitated. “In December? And why the fuck wouldn’t they say anything?”
“You don’t know if they didn’t say anything. They might’ve told Saint.”
“Stop being so fucking reasonable?—”
“They did not tell Saint.”
I jumped a mile.
Alexei eyeballed me. Somehow, he was now three feet away and joining the conversation. “They did not,” he repeated. “We have no idea where they went, unless Cam chose to bring his siblings into the other matter the two of you have been mishandling by yourselves.”
Rubi darted a rapid glance between us. “What other matter?”
“Nothing you need to worry about.” I shot Alexei a glare that he returned with an icy scowl. “And it’s nothing Cam would drag River into, so calm your fucking tits.”
“I am calm,” Rubi lied. “Don’t bullshit me.”
“I’m not. If I was worried about River, you’d know it.”
“You’re not worried about Orla?”
“Why would I be? I know she’s with Cam, and I know she’s safe because he told me. You think he’d call church to say different?”
Rubi remained on edge, trying to get a handle on his emotions, and if it had been just Cam and Orla, maybe he’d have managed it. But River was his hair trigger. He loved that man as much as I loved Orla and Locke, and as rational as he tried to be, logic failed him.
“Fuck off,” he snapped. “I liked you better when you were a stressy bessie.”
He stormed away. Again.
I swung my gaze back to Alexei. “Thanks for that. I needed a new fight. The old ones were getting boring.”
“You are too nice for sarcasm, zolotoy mal’chik.”
“Not too nice to sacrifice, though, eh?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
I shook my head. “Never mind. You really don’t know where they are?”
“I know where they are now—on the road, heading home. I do not know where they went when Orla swapped her car for her bike. It is not tracked. Neither is River’s, and I believe Cam may have googled how to evade me, but you know all about this, yes?”
“You can’t be angry about the Bear thing forever.”
“I am not angry.”
Didn’t believe him. Couldn’t say he gave a shite, and Bear wasn’t my concern right now. Rubi was, even knowing my woman was out there on her hog, braving the elements in leather and denim.
The wind picked up again, whistling through the yard. I rounded up the troops and herded them into the chapel.
Locke and Willow were already there, the sweet tones of her mellow guitar lightening the mood.
I stopped to listen. “You like Palace now?”
Willow shrugged. “Dad said this song makes you happy.”
“It does.” I ruffled her hair and moved on, letting my knuckles graze Locke’s neck as I passed, not stopping to see if the light touch had the same effect on him as it did on me. I ventured into the chapel kitchen and braved the boiling water tap I’d childproofed to Tipperary and back. Splattered myself with the scalding spray, but that was life, and I needed coffee too much to care.
I played mum for ten minutes, doling out hot drinks like I had done since I’d sat on my first club war council. Rubi usually helped, making a pantomime of it, but he was still sulking somewhere, leaving him, Saint, and Folk the only ones missing, aside from the O’Brians.