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“Then we shared a bottle of whiskey and finally had it out. Cleared the air, so to speak.”
“About what?”
“About how I hate her, and she knows it.”
She’s not kidding. I can see it on her face. Naomi is the sweetest person alive, and Joey hates her with an intense fixation. I’m lucky Joey didn’t off her and leave her body in the desert that day.
“How’d she end up on that bus?”
Joey giggles like she finds it amusing. “I knocked her out with the whiskey bottle. I’d paid off some South Side kids to be hanging around. They helped me drive her to the bus station when I signaled them. I got one of them to buy her ticket – you can’t be too careful with Strafe’s old lady looking over everyone’s shoulders – and they carried her on.”
“And the bus driver let a bunch of teenagers carry an unconscious woman onto the bus?” Aric’s voice is dangerously quiet. I don’t think he appreciated the jab about Strafe’s wife – his sister – that Joey made.
She shrugs, pouting her puffy, red lips. “We told the bus driver she had too much to drink but was stubborn about not missing her bus. She stunk of whiskey, so he believed it.”
Naomi wouldn’t have gone out to the water reservoir without her glasses or phone.
“What did you do with her bag and glasses?” I pipe up, ignoring the warning look Bruiser shoots me.
“They’re at my place. Behind the couch.”
That’s all I need to know. I’ll go and get them before I head home to Naomi. She’ll be glad to have them back. I know she has photos of her Mama on her phone.
Aric clears his throat, drawing Joey’s gaze back to him. “You’re out, Joey.”
Her eyes widen in disbelief, her mouth dropping open. “What the fuck do you meanI’m out?”
He shrugs, glaring sternly down at her. “You attacked Naomi. You’re done in San Remo.”
She scoffs, shaking her head slowly. “Since when has it mattered about shit like that?”
“Since Naomi is Viper’s,” Aric replies.
Joey does a double-take, glaring up at him. “What do you mean, she’s Viper’s?”
What the fuck does she think he means? There’s only one meaning for that fucking sentence, and she knows it.
“She’s my old lady,” I grunt, satisfaction coursing through me as Joey pales. Her stunned silence doesn’t last as she loses her shit.
“What the fuck is it with you people and picking unsuitable women? You have perfectly good women, loyal to the club, but you pick outsiders.”
Aric’s eyes narrow at Joey, who has said the wrong thing. After all, one of the club groupies – and Joey’s best friend – sold Aric and Lena out because she was jealous of Lena.
At the same time, Lena was tortured and almost died because she wouldn’t sell out the club. I guess loyalty and “outsider” are relative terms.
Joey falls silent at the thunder on Aric’s face, pressing her lips together and swallowing.
“Where am I supposed to go?” she asks, her voice shaking. For the first time, she sounds a little like Naomi. It’s weird. They almost seem like sisters without her bluster and “fuck me” attitude.
“Phoenix is willing to take you in,” Aric replies. My head snaps around, my eyes glued to the side of his face. Fuckingwhat? At the very least, this should go to a damn vote.
“Arizona?” she gapes, starting to shake her head, freezing at the growl that rumbles out of Aric.
“They’re the only ones who were willing. It’s Phoenix or out of the Hawks for good.”
Huffing a sigh, she rattles her bindings and nods. “Fine, Phoenix.”
“You have six hours to pack your things. One of the boys will escort you.”
