Page 17 of April’s Fool

I take a breath upon seeing Fool’s message and quickly save his number as Beck on my phone, which I think is definitely better than calling him by his road name. It suits him.

Chapter 10

FOOL

April: You know what sucks?

I grin as I read April’s text and type out my response.

Me: That I’m not there?

I chuckle, then hit send.

For the past week, the two of us have texted back and forth throughout the day and ended the night with a call.

I’ve been trying to go at her pace, give her time, but what she doesn’t know is that I’ve been on campus every day, following her in the shadows, watching how she reacts to those around her. What I’ve seen doesn’t sit well with me. She keeps to herself in a way that makes my gut churn. Whenever a guy approaches her, she rushes away as quickly as she can, with her books clutched to her chest. I don’t like seeing it, and I don’t want her dealing with that bullshit any more than she already has.

My phone vibrates in my hand, and I read the latest text from the woman who is quickly getting under my skin.

April: Um, no. That’s not what sucks.

April: Okay, it does, but that’s not what I’m talking about.

April: I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t text this much in a row. Oh well. You can be annoyed with me.

I don’t believe I would ever get annoyed with her for rambling in texts or otherwise. Not like this, at least, when she’s being cute.

Me: What’s got you so worked up that you claim it sucks, sweets?

I figured I might as well get her back on track with what she texted me about after her last class of the day. Thankfully, she’s got tomorrow with no classes and the weekend clear.

April: My professor tacked on a last-minute paper that has to be ten pages long and include all the works. I’m going to have to spend the weekend at the library to get it done so I can have it out of the way.

Like hell she’s working on it at the library all weekend.

I know her shit is important to her. She’s worked hard to keep her GPA up and to keep the scholarships she’s got. But she needs to learn to live a little. Besides, I have plans for her this weekend. I’ve gone all week without touching her, no matter how close she’s been. I want her at the clubhouse, away from school, to see if I can’t get her to open up more to me. Bonus, I want those lips of hers on mine again. I can’t get the taste of her out of my mouth, and I need more than the little I’ve gotten.

Me: When’s the paper due?

April: In two weeks, but I don’t enjoy wasting time on it.

I get that, and I like that she’s not a procrastinator. She gets shit done.

Me: What’s the subject of the paper?

Maybe it’s something I can help her with.

April: It’s about how a business runs and what it takes to keep margins in the black.

Hmmm.

Me: So, why do you have to be at the library all weekend to do it? I have a better offer. Why don’t you spend the weekend at the clubhouse? I’ll help you with it. The club has several businesses that are always in the black.

One of those businesses is a mortuary and funeral home with a cemetery that we all help maintain. It’s through this that we’ve been able to run the illegal side hustles when needed. It works out great. You’d never expect to look in the lining of coffins with dead bodies inside for guns and shit. Not to mention, when we’ve got to get rid of a body, we’ve got a furnace equipped to burn a person to ash.

It’s surprising how little remains of a body after it’s burned. Well, it shouldn’t be surprising. The ashes primarily consist of the box that holds the body and the teeth. Very little of the ashes is the person themselves. At least that’s how my brothers explained it to me. I can believe it, considering how much water makes up the body. I’ve seen the process it takes to get to that point and what happens with all that pertains to disposing of the bodies.

It doesn’t mean the club hasn’t dug a deeper hole to put a body in the ground where a vault will go. The saying goes, ‘They bury you six feet deep’, but technically it’s four feet. So, we’ll dig two feet deeper, put a body in the ground, cover them with two feet of dirt, then put the vault on top to prepare for a funeral service. It’s not the best job, but I don’t mind it. I can get over the smell of decaying bodies.