Page 40 of Carson

“Since when do we let a consumer slide? Let’s take him out, preferably before either of these ladies get hurt,” Tank says.

“I have the NorCal guys watching them. But this was what was agreed to.”

Carver stays quiet, and I know he’s doing everything in his power to bite his tongue.

“Anyway, back to Texas. I need two guys. Who’s up for it?”

My brother raises his hand, so I follow his lead.

“Carson and Cole,” Jackson says, but before his gavel lands, my brother speaks up.

“Naw, Carver and I got this. Carson already has commitments.”

“Fuck yeah, I’ll go,” Carver says, reaching for the photo that’s been passed around, and placing it in his pocket.

No one questions him.

Before I can argue, the gavel falls.

The room begins to disperse, my brother being one of the very first to leave the room.

Carver pats me on the back as he walks past me. “I’ll keep an eye on him,” he assures me.

But that’s my job.

When I finally drag myself from my chair and head outside, I realize he’s left already.

He left me without a ride.

Something I never thought he’d do.

The wind blows, drawing my attention to the dock out back. My grandfather is sitting down there fishing.

I make my way toward the lake.

He smiles when I sit beside him, his brows pulling together as he studies me. When I don’t say anything, he turns his attention back to the water.

“What’s on your mind, son?”

I take a deep breath. “Have you ever been to Ireland?”

My grandfather laughs. “No, but I hear they have good beer.”

I’m being pulled in two directions.

One half wants things to stay the same, but the other is excited about something new.

“That should be reason alone to go, huh?”

Grandpa laughs again. “I’d say so.” He pulls his sunglasses off and slides them on the bill of his hat. “I can’t think of a better reason.”

He points to the cooler sitting beside his chair. “All this talk is making me thirsty. Grab us a couple, will ya?”

I lean over, fishing two cans of beer out, flicking the ice off of them with a shake of my hand.

“What’s her name?” he asks as I hand him one.

You can’t get one over on Grandpa. He’s an expert at reading people. I suppose he’s lived long enough to have seen most everything.