The Rampage MC #3: Atlas and Joy

Chapter 6 (Joy): Learn Some New Words

"I am woman, hear me roar." I Am Woman, Helen Reddy

I'm pretty sure nobody ever wakes up, greets a perfectly beautiful day and thinks, you know, today would be a good day to snap and call people out on their shit. I sure as hell didn't and yet, that's exactly what happened.

I was still wearing the damn boot, but I was a whiz on the knee scooter and it barely slowed me down.

Currently, six overnight blueberry French toast casseroles were baking in the ovens and bacon was on the griddle, making my mouth water from one of my favorite smells in the world. I was also putting together Greek yogurt, granola and honey parfaits. I'd start the scrambled eggs in another few minutes. The sixty-cup coffee percolator was already dripping.

This was my favorite time of day. No one was up yet and --

"Good morning, Joy," Kit's voice greeted me as I stood at the stove. 

Welp, now this was my not-so-favorite time of day.

This morning routine of Kit's was new in the last two weeks. He'd started coming into the kitchen before anyone was awake and standing in the doorway. So technically, he wasn't violating Beard's directive for his ass to stay the fuck out of the kitchen. 

I continued about my business as if he wasn't there, holding firm to my determination to never speak to Kit again. I gave the blueberry sauce a stir, then continued building the parfaits.

"Can I help with anything?" he asked. Kit always asked. And my answer was always the same: no answer.

A few minutes later, I was saved by Max.

"Good morning, Max," I greeted my helper cheerfully. The doer of shit jobs, poor man.

I could feel him giving Kit a look. He knew that Kit wasn't supposed to be near the kitchen, but I sensed that wasn't the reason for the strange tension between the two of them.

"Morning," came Max's reply.

"Would you mind cutting up some strawberries, Max? I'm a little behind schedule and could really use the help." Lie, but the petty was strong with me. I'll take help as long as it isn't yours, Kit.

 "Sure," he agreed, and got right to work.

"Thank you so much. I really appreciate your help, Max. You make my life so much easier."

Maybe that was overdoing it with the gratitude, but I didn't care, given my audience. A few minutes later, I blew out a breath when I heard Kit stomp away from the doorway, then I began scrambling the eggs.

"He's sorry, you know," Max said so quietly I had to strain my ears to hear him.

"Sometimes, Max, sorry just isn't enough."

A pause, then softly, "I know. I'm living that lesson every day."

There was so much pain in his words that it hurt me.

That night at dinner, we were at capacity.

"Big crowd," Max said to me as we watched all the brothers and club girls trying to find places to eat. The huge dining room table was full, the couches and chairs were filled, and people were dragging in chairs from their rooms.

Beard was at the biggest table along with all of his officers. One of the brothers, who had a head start on the drinking, got up from his seat when he spied me watching over the food.

"Joy!" he shouted, pointing at me. "Joy, my Joy, my Joy! Now that the six months are up, I'm gonna be the first to ask you out or at least up to my room! Whaddya say -- you want to go out or just get straight to getting fucked from behind?"