My mind spun. I didn’t even know what this woman looked like, how old she was, or what her kids were like. I’d just barely gotten my feet under me again. I was still getting used to working in the garage. I’d been living out of my duffel.
“My son is gettin’ heretomorrow,” I said through gritted teeth. “What am I supposed to tell him?”
“That you and Theodora have been in touch for the last few months and decided to make a go of it now that you’re back in Eugene.”
“He’s never going to believe that shit. He’d have a pretty good idea if I was seein’ someone.”
“He doesn’t have to believe it as long as he keeps his mouth shut.”
“And as long as that’s the story he repeats if anyone asks,” Grease said.
“You think someone’s gonna be asking my boy questions?” My gut clenched.
“Could happen,” Grease replied. “But I doubt it. Granger steers clear of kids.”
“He’s seventeen years old.”
“That’s right. He is,” Grandpa Dragon said firmly. “You’ve been in Montana for eighteen years. Agreed to that because you knocked some woman up and you didn’t want to leave your kid. Understood that. Felt for you. Let you have it.”
“And I appreciate it,” I gritted out through my teeth.
“You’ve been skatin’ far longer than any other member would be allowed,” he added. “Now, it’s time to pay the fuckin’ piper.”
He opened up a file and slid a photo toward me. It was candid and clearly taken without the subject’s knowledge. The woman in it was walking across a parking lot, pushing a grocery cart. She was petite with long brown hair that was pulled back in a low ponytail, wearing a pair of denim cutoffs and a gray tank top. She had a tattoo that I couldn’t make out covering her shoulder, down her arm to her elbow.
“Don’t think it’ll be a chore,” Dragon said dryly.
“You think Granger’s just gonna let her leave?” I asked, sliding the photo back to him.
“Granger’s out of town on business this week. As far as we can tell, she’s got eyes on her, but not anyone who’s authorized to step in. By the time anyone realizes she’s goin’, she’ll be gone.”
“And after that?”
“Granger reaches out, we play it out.”
“And how you plannin’ on doin’ that?”
“Her boy’s got her last name,” my dad said. “As far as the Aces are concerned, we’re pleased as fuck that our old friend’s daughter hooked up with one of our brothers. Best-case scenario. Had no idea she had ties to anyone in Sacramento.”
“And you think he’ll believe that?”
“We think,” Grease said, pulling my attention across the table. “That Granger knows better than to target or even sneeze in the direction of one of our old ladies, no matter what his prior connection to that old lady is.”
“That’s a lot of wishful thinkin’.”
“That’s what we’ve got,” Grandpa Casper said. “Pullin’ her under the club’s umbrella. Thankfully, she’s receptive to whatever play we make because she wants to get the fuck out of there.”
“No shit?” I asked, a chuckle of disbelief catching in my throat. “Jesus Christ.”
“We don’t anticipate any problems on your way north,” Grandpa Casper informed me.
I stared at the scarred wood under my palms. After eighteen fucking years of drama and headaches, my son had finally asked to come home to Oregon. We’d made plans, looked forward to some fucking peace, and now this.
“What time is my bus?” I asked after a moment as I raised my head. I met my grandfather’s eyes, knowing the decision had already been made.
“Four,” he replied. “You’ll get there tomorrow afternoon.”
“Great.” I rose to my feet. “Anything else?”
