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I grin, pay Annie, giving her a big tip, kiss Laura on the cheek for giving up her appointment for me and bid the rest goodbye.
I step outside and take a deep breath. It’s a fuckin’ good life.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
Trigger
Irun a couple of important errands then head to the clubhouse.
Crank refuses to open the gates for me when I drive up.
“Who the fuck are you?” he asks as he stands on the other side of the chain link, his arms crossed, his legs spread. Little fuck thinks he’s a tough guy.
“Who the fuck do you think I am?” I growl contemplating the six ways I’m gonna kill the asshole.
He looks me over from foot to head, then sees my bike. “You stole Trigger’s bike.”
Man, this guy is three cards short of a full deck. I can’t figure out where Hash dug him up from. “I’m Trigger. Have you never seen a guy with a haircut?”
Crank still looks leery. “Sounds like you. Tats are the same, but Trig would never cut his hair and beard.”
“You’re a fuckin’ idiot.”
Jawbone sees the exchange and wanders over. “Well lookee here, Trigger’s twin brother.” He pauses. “The better lookin’ one.”
“Fuck you, Jawbone,” I snarl. “Tell this jackass to let me in.”
The jackass in question says to no one in particular. “Trigger has a twin?”
Jawbone glances at him with a slight eyeroll, then turns his attention back to me, rubbing his chin as he looks me up and down. “Guess we could let you in seein’ as you’re family and all.”
He nods to Crank, who still looks skeptical, but opens the gates anyway.
I rip through on my bike and find a place to park. Judging by the number of scoots in the yard, it looks like a lot of Jury members are hanging around today.
Steppin’ inside, loud voices and laughter greet my ears, but as I walk into the main room, the conversation dies. Three of the passarounds are clustered around Hash and Rider. Zero is tending bar and Haley, Jess, and Verity are on barstools talking to him. Fender, his wife, Chrissy, and Rocky are playing pool while Blood watches them. The Vegas prospect, Stark, is talking to Reaper and Mothman. The kids, Max and Sean, are playing a video game while Brielle and Ash look on. Red’s next to Max, talking and pointin’ at the TV screen like he’s giving instructions.
Eight is standing in a corner talking to his kid, Oscar, and by the intensity of the conversation, it looks like they’re having a disagreement. Eight catches sight of me, does a double-take, and then uncharacteristically, starts laughing. This sets the rest off and the insults and cat calls at my expense come fast and furious.
I tuck my fingers into the pockets of my jeans and bark, “What the fuck! You never seen a guy with a haircut before?”
“It ain’t the haircut, buddy. It’s the shaved cunt on your face,” fuckin’ Hash says.
“Is that what it is?” Rocky replies with a shit-eatin’ grin. “Thought it was one of those hairless Mexican pussies.”
“They’re dogs, not cats. The Mexican ones,” Verity snickers.
“Are you sure?” Rocky says.
Jess nods with a huge smile. “Yeah. It’s a dog.”
“I think there’s a Sphinx cat,” Haley giggles.
“Doesn’t have the same cache,” Verity replies.
Reaper’s chokin’ on his laughter, but manages to say, “No, it sure as hell doesn’t.”
Hangman rounds the corner with a I’m-gonna-fuck-someone-up scowl, stops short and stares. “What the fuck did you do?"
