“This place doesn’t seem all that fun just yet,” I say. “Besides those two cunts throwing middle fingers at me, I had some guy tell me he was going to kill me.”
“Who said that to you?” Maz asks as she stops walking and takes her arm away from me.
“I didn’t catch his name,” I say.
“What did he look like?” Birdie asks.
They both look worried.
“Um… tall. Dressed in all black. Steel-cut jaw kind of thing going on.”
“That’s a lot of guys around here,” Maz says. “What else.”
“Tattoos on his arms,” I say.
“Tattoos,” Birdie says. “Did he roll up his sleeves as he walked away?”
“Yeah,” I say. “That’s the one.”
“Oh, fuck,” Maz says. “You’re making all kinds of enemies around here.”
“I literally just got here five minutes ago,” I say.
“Then you have a reputation,” Birdie says.
“How can I have a reputation? I don’t know anything…” I shake my head. “Whatever. Where do I go right now?”
“You can come with us,” Maz says. “You’re a fellowThornnow.”
“A what?” I ask.
“Thorn,” Birdie says. “Here, watch this…” She turns and points to some people walking. “There are three groups around here. Know who you are, stick to what you know and you’ll do just fine. We’re allThorns.”
“Why is that?” I ask.
“What’s between your legs?” Maz asks.
“What do you think is between my legs?” I ask right back.
“Exactly,” Maz says. “That’s why we’reThorns.”
“Ah,” I say. “So, all the girls areThorns.”
“Bingo,” Birdie says. “Now that guy right there…” Birdie points. “That’s Killian Atha. He’s part of that crew. He’ll be muscle for now. He’ll work up the ranks. But he’ll never be next in line. That means he’ll never run everything. He’ll always be third or later. That makes him part of theSavages.”
“Nice name,” I say.
“That’s what they all are,” Maz says. “They’re the crazy killers. You might get used to it.”
“Then there’s one more group,” Birdie says. “See him over there? The one standing outside the doors. Arms crossed.”
“The slicked back hair and black sunglasses,” I say.
“That’s Lazarus Llewellyn,” Birdie says.
“You know that last name, right?” Maz asks.
“Familiar,” I whisper. “Houses or construction or something.”