“Brinley? What the fuck does she have to do with this?” I haven’t heard that name in a while. She’s one of the Shaw girls who manages whichever gas station needs her the most along the highway. The only reason she’s not more trouble than Tylee is because she swings for the other team.
“She’s helping us, thanks to Oske.”
“What the fuck?”
“None of our business,” Wyatt says. “I got Tylee to agree to some mediation. Owen will bring her to the club house and I’m supposed to bring you to the club house. We talk with Oske and Brinley as mediators. Apparently.”
“I see. That explains a lot.”
“Yes. Oske has her hand in some trouble. But she’s on our side.”
Wyatt sounds confident, but I can’t trust the fate of my children’s lives to Oske without more information.
“Meaning?”
“She’s pissed that Tylee took your kids. She’s doing a good job of playing both sides, but this will go our way as long as you’re willing to take a little bullying.”
I can believe that there’s some type of moral thing going on there. Oske might not have children of her own, but it’s a real thing that Indians are more spiritual and family-oriented. I put up with Oske’s bullying for free. I don’t have any room to argue anymore. Tylee’s holding our kids hostage and they need to know no matter what happens that I fought for them.
“I don’t care what I have to do as long as I can see my kids before the end of the week.”
“We just have to hope that Tylee doesn’t up the ante.”
“Meaning?”
Wyatt shrugs. “I don’t know who exactly has your kids, and that troubles me, Isaac. I can’t lie to you.”
“I’m not fucking thrilled about it either.”
“Who do you think she would trust?”
“Is it Selma?”
“No,” Wyatt says pensively, “I checked. I don’t mean to piss you off but… Could be someone she’s sleeping with.”
My throat tightens and a deep instinctiveknowingrises in my gut. I quickly suppress the feeling, because I have no proof. She’s pissed at me because I want a divorce over the Damara thing. But she hasn’t been having an affair recently…
She changed.
“She’s not sleeping with anyone else.”
“Are you sure?” Wyatt asks gently. He rolls that stupid pair of green dice over the tops of his knuckles.He knows something.Hot shame burns my face that I try not to let show. It’s bad enough that Tylee cheats, she can’t even keep it a secret. I stayed with her so our kids wouldn’t come from a broken home but all she ever does is throw shit my way.
This time I’ve had it. But I don’t have a good answer to Wyatt’s question.
“No. I’m not sure.”
“I’ve been wondering if it has something to do with the folks who attacked Zeb and Janelle.”
“Where did you folks land on that?”
I’ve been too preoccupied with my own shit to worry much about Zeb’s problems. He was an Army Ranger – he can handle himself.
“Those guys might still be a problem,” Wyatt explains. “Bunch of guys, former disgraced DHS and cops… People like that. The only thing is, what are their motives? Do they want some kind of revenge on the people who kicked them out or are they still after immigrants? Black people. That kind of thing.”
“Fuck if I know.”
Neither Wyatt’s expression nor posture have eased even slightly. There’s more he has to say about this and his poker face is as good as ever even without practice because I can’t tell what he’s thinking.