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Colt nodded. “Yep, he’s been hanging around for months now, he was hesitant at first, said he didn’t want to commit, but he’s been stepping up a lot recently, he’s a reliable guy. So yeah, he’s prospecting with us now.”
Carmelo nodded. “He seems like a good guy.”
Colt frowned suddenly. “Yeah… Rita said something though that I can’t get out of my head… said he was a moody asshole basically…which seems out of character…”
Carmelo pursed his lips in consideration. “What’s his background?”
Colt shrugged. “The usual. Served, did time. Rough childhood in the system. Classic tragic backstory.”
“Hmm.” Carmelo made a mental note to run his name through the system when he got back behind his desk, wanting more details than Colt was supplying. “What’s his first name? I’m guessing Sully is short for Sullivan, his surname?”
Colt shrugged again. “He’s just Sully.”
Carmelo huffed. “Fine, keep your secrets.”
Colt smirked back at him, Sully forgotten, and the two fell into companionable silence, enjoying the atmosphere of the happy occasion.
“Speaking of secrets, I hear you’ve got someone new in your life?” Colt prompted with an eager expression.
Carmelo frowned then realized what Colt was getting at. “I’m adopting a dog,” Carmelo said, letting his honest joy through. “You don’t miss a thing, do you?” Carmelo added. He swirled his champagne and drank some. “Yeah, a retired police dog. I pick him up in a few weeks. Cal is his name. I’m getting my apartment all fixed for him. He’s a handsome big boy.”
Carmelo got his phone out and scrolled to the photos of a big, black and brown Alsatian staring wisely back down the camera. “Former drug dog. So you better be careful when I next come by-”
“Clean as a whistle here, Carmelo, you know that.” Colt smiled, looking at the photos Carmelo was still scrolling through. “I’m happy for you buddy, you need a companion, don’t want you getting lonely-”
“If I get lonely, I come here.” Carmelo winked, tucking his phone away. Yeah, he was honestly excited about getting a new buddy to hang with. Someone that wasn’t his nagging, obnoxious father and brother, and not the MC strippers.
Colt laughed and they both took a swig on their drinks, surveying the merry scene.
“Is that Max?” Carmelo nodded to the grinning teenager serving up overloaded ice cream cones gleefully.
Colt followed Carmelo’s gaze and watched pensively for a moment before replying.“Yeah.”
“He doing alright after the whole… getting kidnapped and getting rescued in a hail of bullets by the MC?”
“Yeah,” Colt replied, peevishly.
Carmelo had wanted to help, he’d wanted to get his police team involved, and stage a proper rescue, negotiate with the Texan branch of the Demonios, see if they could turn it into a wider win, but Colt and the MC had just steam rolled ahead. Carmelo had been lucky to be able to tag along with a few other officers in an unmarked car. It all seems to have worked out okay, but Colt and Carmelo had butted heads about it, as they sometimes did.
“He injured his eye?” Carmelo frowned, taking in Max’s sore looking eye.
Colt flexed his jaw. “No, it's a brain tumor. At the front, hence… the eye situation. It’s growing, rapidly.”
“But… his eye?”
“Precisely. No one’s sure… he might not have much longer left.”
“Fuck.” Carmelo looked back at the happy-go-lucky kid in the ice cream van. Then Carmelo noticed he was wearing a black leather vest. A new black leather vest, the kind usually reserved for prospects.
“Colt, how old is he?” Carmelo chided.
Colt shrugged.
Carmelo tutted and rolled his eyes. “He’s too young for MC life, Colt, come on-”
“You wanna tell him that?” Colt whirled round on him, suddenly fierce.
Carmelo backed up. “I get it, that could be a difficult conversation-”
