Chapter Fourteen ~ Eye of the Storm, pt1
Gale knew he shouldn't eavesdrop, but when he saw Mellark sitting at the back of the old smithy, talking to someone in a low tone, he couldn't help but catch a few snatches of their conversation.
It's just not possible... It doesn't add up... What in the hell did Mellark have to be so goddamned riled up about, anyway? He'd already stolen Katniss - twice! - and turned her against Gale, did he have to poison everything he touched? Part of him knew he wasn't being fair to the man, but if Mellark's bosses knew what a cock-up he'd made of things... Well, Gale could almost count on the inevitability that the man's arrogance would be short lived. Truth was, Mellark had trusted Gale with his secret.
That didn't mean he had to like it.
Damn that fucking shyster and his meddling, Pinkerton ways.
Finnick tapped him on the shoulder and Gale nearly shot his friend's head off. "Jaysus! Put that thing down, Hawthorne!" He dragged Gale back into the Hob's stockroom. "I got the crowd to calm down. Thresh is manning the bar."
"How in the hell... Never mind." Gale could hear a warbling voice singing The Rambling Cowboy, accompanied by a plonking, heavy hand on the piano. He was going to need to have it tuned. Just another thing to remember.
Come all you reckless and rambling boys who have listened to this song,
If it hasn't done you any good, it hasn't done you any wrong;
But when you court a pretty girl, just marry her while you can,
For if you go across the plains she'll marry another man.
"...So?" Finnick waggled his eyebrows. "Boss!"
"What?" Gale was feeling the euphoric effects of the laudanum. Just how much had Thom tipped into his drink, anyway?
"Annie, boss. Mind if I go steal a golden hour with my lovely lady?"
Gale looked at his pocket watch. "Now? I'd wait until tomorrow. You want her fresh as a virgin trick in a cathouse, not limp as a rag doll." Finnick looked pained. "What? It's the truth, Finn. You never complain, but I know Hanna's had to finish the job when Annie couldn't."
"I know. I just want to see her, Hawthorne. To kiss her soft cheek and tuck her into bed, so she isn't having to be alone when the nightmares come." Finnick looked miserable. He had it bad, Gale thought. "I could go to Hanna, but it isn't punishment I'm wanting. You know how Hanna gets when the last customer rolls around."
Did he ever. He'd made that mistake once, and only once. He'd been sitting lightly for a week after. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Quiet, Odair."
"I guess I could go to Cashmere, or Octavia. But Tavie squeals like a stuck pig when she comes, and I don't like that look Cashmere gets in her eye when she sees me. Like I'm just a boy again, coin in my pocket for a go in her tent behind the lines. Besides, Annie always looks at me like I'm a hero, no matter what I do. She's the one I want to be seein' when I go to bed at night, and when I wake up in the mornin'. I can tell her anythin'. That's special, 'tis."
"Aw, just go." Gale waved his hand. He didn't want to talk about Saint Annie, prostitute with a heart of gold. It was pathetic to see how Finnick brightened when Gale waved him on. He didn't think he'd ever been so stuck on a woman.
Except...
Madge, his traitorous brain whispered.
Twelve long years ago. A summer that rocked the foundations of his world, and feelings that frightened him so badly that he fled headlong into the bloody battlefields of the Civil War, never again to return to the girl in the mountains.
And now, here she was. Surely it meant something? With a lightning bolt of clarity, Gale realized just who it was that Peeta had been talking to in the alley. He was on his feet, hurrying out the back door before he could stop himself.
But the back alley was empty.
She was already gone.
XxX
A/N: Thanks to Hawtsee and Carol for your awesome reviews! I will be going on a trip for the next week and a half. Therefore I'm uploading two chapters and a very short scene so I don't leave you guys with a cliffhanger.
"Rambling Cowboy" is a real song from the 1800s.