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Possibly.
But I couldn’t seem to muster any excitement over the idea.
“Always,” York said. “Heard we might see one or two guys from that other club.”
“The other club?” I asked, wondering why Huck wouldn’t have mentioned it if guys from our sister chapter were coming in.
“In Coral Springs,” York clarified.
Right.
Them.
Run by a guy named Creed. And, seemingly, three of his brothers. We didn’t know the details for sure, since we’d been forced to have Arty drop his investigation into the crew when Creed showed up and told us that he didn’t appreciate us sticking our noses in his business.
Since Huck was happy to agree to Creed’s plan for us all to mind our own damn affairs, and because the Knights were in “protection” not arms, we didn’t see any reason to research them any more.
But every once in a while, it seemed like our crew hung with theirs if everyone happened to be in the same place.
And Huck and his OG guys had gone to Creed’s clubhouse as a show of good faith.
This would be the first time I heard of them coming to our neck of the woods, though.
“I guess that’s a good thing,” I mused.
“Club doesn’t have many allies,” York agreed, nodding.
That was fair.
We’d gotten more chummy with Tony Barelli, of course. But aside from him, we were very much on our own. Not like our mother and sister chapters, who had connections with other organizations.
It was good for us to be making allies.
“You staying this time?” York asked.
I wanted to go home.
I wanted to open that phone, then sit on that damn site and wait for Siana to go live again.
And since I couldn’t let myself be that fucking pathetic, I nodded.
“Yeah, might stay for a while.”
A while meant fucking hours and hours since the actual party didn’t start until almost nine that night.
But at least the afternoon was busier as Coast woke up and hydrated then Velle and Levee showed up, and started setting shit up for the party. Putting out coolers, filling them with beer. Making a bar out of some pop up tables. Even setting up a pong table.
Eddie blew in after his shift at the auto shop, coming in with bags of food even though he’d already had the guys pick up shit earlier.
When Eddie cooked—which was always—he went all out.
“My man,” Eddie said when I came back in from the party that was picking up out back. “How are the food levels looking out there?”
“Still pretty full. I think you could call it a day,” I suggested as he rolled more tortillas.
“Gotta get these done, man. The hunnies, they told me that the new hunnie, she won’t eat meat. Can’t have her going hungry,” he said, shrugging. “The crew here from Coral Springs yet?”
“Yeah. But it’s not Creed or his brothers. Didn’t talk to ‘em myself, but they look like prospects.”
