“Careful.” I growled under my breath.
Brandon glanced at me before looking back to Tria.
“We have to do it for the tribe,” he said. “We don’t have to like it, but it’s our decision.”
“Nikki?” Tria turned to her friend.
“Well, the good news is,” Nikki said with a half smile, “that I’ll be fairly drugged up the whole time. Makes everything a little easier on me.”
Tria’s eyes met my questioning ones.
“Peyote,” she said simply. “It’s used in a lot of the rituals.”
“You ever do it?” I asked. My hands were starting to shake, but I locked them into fists to keep them still.
“Yes,” she replied but didn’t elaborate.
Nikki told us about a few more details of the ceremony and how Tria was mostly to be there for her afterwards. She didn’t go into the details about what they were going to do, only that I wasn’t invited.
“Can he stay here?” Tria asked. “I mean—while you and I get the arrangements made?”
Nikki looked quickly to Brandon, who just scowled at her.
“They came all this way,” she said to him.
He turned to glare at me for a minute, then got up off his chair and headed for the kitchen.
“Fine.” He grumbled as he walked away. “But he’s bringing beer.”
“I’ll buy it,” Tria said as she looked over to me. I knew what she was saying—that Michael would be buying it. I just shrugged.
The two women continued talking, the conversation turning to people they knew in town and what Tria was going to wear to the ceremony. I took the opportunity to sneak outside for a smoke. I stood on the little porch and leaned on the slightly slanted railing, lit a cigarette, and blew smoke into the misty air. As I stood there, the mist turned to steady rain, so I took a step back to make sure I was completely covered by the roof of the porch.
I heard a sound to my left and glanced over to watch Brandon open and close the front door quietly. I looked back out into the dirt driveway and watched the potholes fill with water from the rain.
“Could I have one of those?” he asked.
I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, trying to figure out just what the hell he was doing, but the request at least seemed genuine. I grabbed the pack out of my back pocket and pulled one out. I handed it and the lighter to him, and Brandon lit up. He coughed a couple of times, which made me smirk.
“I don’t really smoke anymore,” he said.
As if I couldn’t tell.
He took a couple more puffs to get used to it and then tried inhaling again. He handed the lighter back to me with a quick thanks and stared out into the rain.
“So, how does this work?” I asked, partially because I was curious but also because I felt like being an asshole. “You stand outside in the rain and watch guys fuck your wife or what?”
He tensed, and I felt my body react the same way in a natural, defensive gesture.
“No,” he said through clenched teeth. “It’s a sacred ceremony.”
I tried to keep myself from snorting out loud, but I failed.
“Never heard a gang bang called sacred before.”
“You know,” he said as he turned toward me, “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
“Well, you are right there,” I agreed. “I wouldn’t let anyone lay a hand on Tria—not for any reason.”