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I watch Armor frown at Yazmin who blows on her scratched hand. I don’t know what the fuck is the problem between the two of them. Rather than watch how it plays out, I study the kitchen cabinets and reach up to search for anything stashed there. I locate a twenty-dollar bill wrapped in an old burger coupon sheet.
Shoving that into my back pocket, I search for other hiding spots. Landry’s got cash stashed everywhere. A few bucks in a granola bar box. A five-dollar bill in the back of the knife drawer. Even though she no longer needs the money, I still take the cash. This is her money. She deserves to have it back.
I walk out front to find the Jordans moving boxes filled with toys and clothes to the moving truck.
Wrapping a blue bandana around his wind-swept hair, Dice gestures up the road. “A car came fast around the corner, spotted us, hesitated, and backed up to leave. We might have trouble soon.”
Back inside, Selene’s found the paperwork-filled envelope Landry worried about.
“Wait, not all of these kids are hers,” Ruin says, supervising by going through my woman’s shit.
I swipe the paperwork away and frown at him. “What are you doing?”
“Did you know she wasn’t the mom of one of the girls?”
Ruin points on Brooklyn’s birth certificate, where another woman’s name is listed as the mother. Neal Copper is the dad.
“I’ll deal with it.”
“What if this mom wants her kid back?” Ruin asks as he leans against the wall while Selene neatly folds Landry’s non-preggo clothes.
“You can just dump those in a box,” I tell her.
Selene freezes and stares at the box. Ruin tells her how we’re in a hurry and just to toss the clothes into a box. Suddenly, she starts moving again. I frown at her and then at Ruin scowling at me.
“Don’t snap at her,” he growls at me.
Exhaling hard, I wish I didn’t need anyone’s help. Rosemary and Woodrow don’t hassle me, but my club brothers think I’m fucking nuts.
Before Ruin and I can get into it, Smokey leans in through the open door and announces, “We have company.”
Ruin tells Selene to take the paperwork and find Yazmin. “Stay with Armor,” he adds before following me outside.
A decade-old, poorly kept car idles while the four people inside work out a plan. Finally, two women exit the back seat and walk over.
The big, rough-looking blonde reminds me of Hulk Hogan. The short brunette wears a tank top, showing off her arms and chest covered in clown tats. Despite the way they look, the women carry themselves like the snooty church types in McMurdo Valley. Neal Copper obviously comes from the worst kind of white trash—the uppity sort.
“We’ve called the police,” Hulk Hogan announces. “They’ll be here soon.”
“Okay,” I reply.
Clown Tattoos adds, “The nerve of you thugs robbing a house in the middle of the day for everyone to see.”
Before I can respond, Ruin answers, “We’re only taking what belongs to Landry and her kids. The asshole’s shit remains. If he wants us to explain the situation, tell him to show up and stop sending chicks to do his dirty work.”
“Where is Landry?” Hulk Hogan demands. “Hell, where is Neal?”
“She’s somewhere safe,” Ruin replies as if he’s holding all the cards. “You already know the answer to the second question. You’re hiding him.”
“Why the fuck would we do that?” Clown Tattoos mutters while cracking her knuckles to intimidate us.
“Because you think Landry called the cops after he broke the girl’s arm,” Ruin explains, using his McMurdo Valley mayor “I’m not going to kill you” voice. “She should have ratted him out. We told her to put his ass in prison. But she didn’t want trouble. Now, we’re taking charge and explaining shit to those cops you called.”
“Broke what?” Hulk Hogan asks.
“Blair’s arm,” I growl while eyeing the two men in the car.
“Who are you low-class thugs?” Clown Tattoos demands.
