Page 8 of Ella’s Data

“All of that sounds good,” I say. “Plus, sleeping in, maybe reading a whole book instead of a chapter here, a chapter there.”

“You’re long overdue this time off from the sound of it,” he observes.

I laugh but it’s not a joyful sound. “I think I’ve finally figured out that I can’t outrun my past,” I mutter. “It’s always there, in the wings, waiting to hit me when I least expect it to.”

“Well, we’ll keep you busy, but it’ll be a fun busy,” he replies. “We’re revamping the haunted houses for this year’s town festival.”

Having vaguely heard about last year’s, I’m kind of excited that I’ll get to be a part of it all. “I wish I could see last year’s version so I could offer suggestions,” I admit.

“You can if you want. I’d be happy to take you there and show you around,” he replies.

“It’s a date,” I tease, freezing when I realize what I just said.

“Friends do shit together, Ella,” he gently reminds me. “Now, I’m pretty sure you’re still trying to make up for your interrupted sleep from this morning. Do you want me to find you a room here or are you good to head out to the RV park?”

“I’m good to drive,” I reply, “but I’m definitely tired.”

“Then I’ll follow you back. I won’t stay,” he says when I start to say something, “just want to make sure you get there safely.”

“Let me go tell Phoebe I’ll see her tomorrow then I’ll be ready to go. Thanks, Data,” I reply.

“Not a problem, Ella.”

CHAPTER

FIVE

Data

After ensuring that Ella was safe and sound in her RV, I headed back to the clubhouse and am now in my office, nursing a beer as I wait for my search to finish running. Since she finally shared her past with me, I ran one to search out all the information I could find about that day.

As articles start to populate, one with a picture catches my eye and I click on the link. “She was beautiful even then,” I murmur as I see a younger Ella, with blood splattered on her face and clothing, sitting at a table while a paramedic checks her over.

It’s obvious, even to my untrained eye, that she’s in shock as she’s staring straight ahead. The picture has other people roaming all around, yet Ella’s gaze is fixed. I know it’s a flat rendition of what happened that horrible day, but I’ve learned to pick up nuances in photos.

“My poor girl,” I say out loud as I start skimming the article.

Two of the shooters were caught that day and before their parents asked for an attorney, they both told anyone who would listen that they wanted to see what would happen. Basically, they were spoiled, entitled little shits who destroyed countless families. The third shooter died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound, which is no less than he deserved as far as I’m concerned.

“How can we change this?” I mutter as I finish that article and read another. “Kids should be safe at school, and their biggest worry should be whether or not they get picked last for dodgeball.”

An idea starts to form as I make note of where the memorial is so I can take Ella there while she’s visiting. I’ll ask Rebel if we can take the proceeds from the haunted house and use it for an anti-bullying program. Hell, maybe an after-school program would be beneficial as well. Because I know there are kids who are loners due to their personalities, but programs that could get them involved in something that interests them might help.

I check the monitors for the club once again, then shut down my searches before I clean my work area and prepare to head to my room for the night. It’s time to get some shuteye, especially since I’ve got a woman to win over and remind her what it feels like to live.

“Before we start reworking the haunted house for this year, I want to take Ella over to see it,” I say during church. Every brother’s gaze turns toward me and I shrug. “She’s going to be here this year, wants to help, and asked to see what we had already done.”

“Works for me, she might have some different ideas,” Prophet replies.

“I mean, what if we did it over with a medical theme, zombies or some shit,” Ash suggests. “I’m sure Phoebe’s boss can get us shit, right?”

“Hell, Ella and Phoebe can order stuff themselves,” Prophet retorts. “But it’s a thought. Maybe make it a bit more interactive than it was last year or something.”

“I think we should put the prospects in coffins that open up so they can grab those who are going up the stairs,” Red says, snickering. “We’d obviously make sure they had plenty of air, but I can already hear those preppy boys screaming.”

We all start laughing because some of those alleged tough guys were the biggest pussies last year. They definitely lost face with their girlfriends, and I’m here for it. “I had an idea last night,” I announce. “I don’t wanna share her story, but what if we donated the ticket proceeds to an anti-bullying project? Or, what if we created some kind of jobs that we could offer to the kids at the high school who are in the work release program? It would free up some of the brothers while giving those we hire some pocket money. I was thinking specifically of the junkyard. Helping folks who are looking for parts, that kind of thing. Maybe at the auto shop doing inventory and cleaning up.”

“They’d have to be at least eighteen to be at the auto shop because of the liability insurance we carry,” Rebel states, “but I like the idea of giving back to our community.”