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Throttle
“I fold.”
I took a sip of my drink and watched the poker game.
I couldn’t see any cards, but I knew Dove was going to win. Again.
She played like I did.
She knew what she was doing, but she also had luck on her side. As long as I wasn’t playing, she was winning.
“Have you ever seen this many balloons in one room before?” Compass sat on the stool next to me and grabbed a beer off the bar. “Honestly, man. Are there even any balloons left in Texas?”
I scoffed and finished my drink. “Probably, just not in Titus County.”
Compass nodded. “Fair.” He took a drink from his beer and motioned to the poker game. “There's a reason why you’re not playing?”
I shrugged. “Don’t feel like it. I took everyone's money last night. Might as well hold on to it for a little bit.”
“Well,” Compass drawled, “looks like Dove is taking over for you.”
“Looks to be that way.”
The camera crew had stayed well into the night, but they had packed it in a few minutes ago. We still had the cameras around the clubhouse on us, but it was different when the crew was gone. We all just seemed to act more like us.
“You wondering what this TV show is going to look like?” Compass asked.
I glanced over at him. “No fucking clue, brother. To me, we’re boring as fuck, so I’m assuming we’ll be canceled after one season.” The club needed the reality show to work to help get us out of the hole, but these past couple of days did not seem promising.
“That’s what I’m thinking too, man. Like how much of America wants to watch us change oil and drink beer, ya know?”
I didn’t have a clue. I just hoped whatever footage they got of us, they were able to make it entertaining.
“You think Yarder is acting different?’ I asked.
Compass scoffed. “Uh, hell yeah, brother. You really think he would have let this pink and green bullshit slide?” He shook his head and nodded to the half-eaten birthday cake. “Name the last time we celebrated one of our birthdays with more than a pizza and a few beers?”
“Fucking never,” I chuckled.
“Right,” Compass agreed. “I heard him screaming at the top of his lungs last night away from the cameras. Pretty sure it is killing him inside not to be able to tell us we’re all fucking idiots.”
“I have missed that,” I laughed. “My ego hasn’t been knocked down like it normally is.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Compass sighed.
We watched the next poker game, and Dove won again.
“You hear anything more from your cousin?” I asked.
Compass shook his head. “Nah, man. The Bone Hawks don’t have a fucking clue on who is after us.”
“You think maybe it was a one-time thing? Like just a person we pissed off, and they went off the rails for a second?”
Compass shrugged. “I mean, at this point, I really think that could be a possibility since we can’t find one single person that might know what the hell happened.”
“Have the Fallen Lords figured out who blew up one of their cars?”
Compass shook his head. “Nope. Another fucking mystery.”
