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"You heard the man," I said, shrugging.
"Alright, but I make no promises that I won't snoop around everyone's room," Dezi said, grabbing the supplies, and moving off toward the rooms.
"Thanks," Brooks said, nodding. "I know it's a small thing, but I think he needs to learn to pull his weight even when he doesn't want to. He's good with the action shit, but there's more to the club than shootouts and fights."
"That's true," I agreed. "I appreciate you being willing to lean on the prospects when they need it."
I guess it was time to start thinking about positions for my men since if my father was stepping down, so were my uncles Cash and Wolf who acted as the Vice President and Road Captain. My father had never had a full hierarchy of members, but I was leaning toward it.
And judging by his behavior lately, Brooks would make a great Sergeant at Arms—someone who acted like a policeman of the group, enforcing the rules and maintaining order. It would play to his strengths.
That was one position filled, at least.
I couldn't make anything official until I worked out the kinks of the other positions, but it felt good to have one thing figured out.
"Don't need to thank me."
"How are Slash's guys settling in?" I asked, giving the two places I'd liked best when I'd gone to see them one final glance as if it would help me make the decision, then closing my laptop.
"Well, Sway has been busy crashing at random chicks' places every night all week, but Crow seems comfortable."
"Getting a feel for them?" I asked.
"Slash is a good leader. All he has to do is let out a rumble and his men fall in line. It sounds like they have been close since they were kids. They have several other guys back home that they'd pull into a club if they get the go-ahead to open a chapter."
"You'll keep an eye on them for me?" I asked, watching as his gaze went keen, like he guessed where my mind was going.
"I will," he said, voice firm. "Need anything else from me?"
"Not right now. Aside from Dezi, the other prospects don't really need to be babysat."
Cary had been in the lifestyle for almost as long as I'd been alive, so he simply knew what was expected of him without being told. And Rowe had Malcolm to guide him, them being best friends for ages.
Speaking of Rowe, though. "Hey, have you seen Billie around here lately?" I asked, wondering if I'd somehow missed her.
"No. She dropped off Dezi's mint lemonade, but made him come to the gate to get it from her."
"Did something happen with her and Rowe?" I asked.
"I was under the impression that it better the fuck not," Brooks said, brows pinching.
"No, that's right. They're off-limits, but it's strange that Billie went from hanging around all the time, hoping to run into Rowe, to avoiding the clubhouse like the plague."
"This is a novel concept, but have you tried... asking her?" Brooks suggested, smirking at me.
"The girls have always related better to Malc, not me. Maybe I can ask Hope when I see her next." But she'd been weirdly absent lately too. It wasn't strange for her to fall off the face of the Earth when work got crazy, but it had been a couple months since I'd even seen her.
"Speaking of the girls. Has Chris come to you with any more information about the shooting?"
"No," I said, shaking my head. "Seems like everyone has hit a dead-end. And there hasn't been anything since then," I said, shrugging. We'd been on high-alert for a few weeks, but nothing had happened.
Maybe it never had anything to do with us in the first place. Maybe we'd been mistaken for other people. Hell, maybe some trigger-happy idiot just wanted to play a real-life shooting game. Who the fuck knew?
"It was in a crummy area of town," Brooks said, shrugging, like maybe that explained it, like we'd gotten caught up in something that had nothing to do with us.
"Yeah," I agreed. "Alright. I am going to head out for a bit. Text me if anything is up. I think some of the OG guys are coming later to plan the next run."
Which was a big one. The biggest one we'd had in a while, and to a newer client, one we'd only dealt with twice before, but one that could mean big money for the club if we kept him happy. I was a little disappointed that I wasn't going to be a part of the drop, but my father had suggested he go for this one, since he'd been the one to work out the client in the first place. It was smart to make things seem status quo for a bit with newer, more skittish contacts. For the next drop, I would go with my father, and introduce myself.
