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“He’s worried it’ll affect my relationship with Maddie if I refuse to help her friend.” I smirk at Minion, knowing he understands the inside joke around my brother and his concern for my relationship with my kids.
“Of course he is.” The thick-set fucker lifts his hand and wriggles his fingers.
I tug my pack of smokes from the inside pocket of my cut and hand them over. “You’re worse than a fucking freeloadin’ teenager. You get that, right?”
“You love me as much as you love yours, though.” He jerks a stick out and the lighter, the flame illuminating the bruising that still subsides on the side of his face.
He takes his job seriously.That’swhat I love about him.
“You fuckers snuck out to the bike sheds without me.” Rigs drops off the concrete platform in front of the clubhouse door and strides to where we stand. “What we got today, fellas?”
“Nothin’ interesting.”
He groans, shoulders dropping.
“You need fuckin’ weed, get your own,” Minion bitches.
My treasurer slides his ass onto the picnic table beside Minion, choosing to sit on the tabletop rather than the seat. “What did I miss?”
“We got a visitor tonight.” I stamp out my cigarette and consider lighting a new one. “Maddie’s got a friend who would like our help with a troublesome ex.”
“Since when are we a halfway house for young women?” He lifts an eyebrow.
“We’re not.” I press my short nails into the bed of my thumb to distract from chain-smoking away the problem. “She’s the witness to Tom Battersley’s murder.”
“Shit.” He drags the word out, leaning back on his hands. “What’s the consensus?”
“We vote in the mornin’ once everyone’s had the night to think through the pros and cons of gettin’ on Terry’s offside.”
“Even more than we are?” Rigs snorts, settling elbows to knees. “What’s your vote, Minion?”
Smoke clouds the man’s eyes as he slowly turns his head to regard the guy. The two of them remind me of a fuckin’ Rottweiler and a Chihuahua. A big, docile, man-eater and the yappy, high-energy rat running around his feet. “I vote we keep her. She has knowledge that could put Terry behind bars. Why wouldn’t we want to own that?”
My thoughts, too. Although, I felt like more of a cunt for voicing it than he clearly does. “I need to know why she won’t testify against him.”
“She said she’s too scared,” Minion fills in Rigs.
I shake my head. “But there’s got to be more. The D.A. could offer her protection. Surely they have already.”
“Maybe.” Minion shrugs. “Guess it depends on how strong they feel the case is without her testimony.”
“You think they’re bluffin’? Using her as bait to get Terry to slip up?” I give in to the temptation and tug another cigarette out.
“Why not? It’s happened before.” Minion punctuates his point with a long draw of his stick.
I tap the filter against the side of my other hand. “Three aye’s so far. All we need is one more to have a majority,” I tell Rigs.
He scrubs a hand over the back of his head. “Any point waiting until mornin’?”
“Always.” I spark my smoke. “Decisions made in the heat of the moment are never wise.” Although I get the feeling this will be something that I’d rather put to bed before I want to go there myself.
Sleep has been shit enough without giving my brain free fodder for the night.
Rigs nods. His tight mouth indicates the word floating through his mind isn’t ‘aye.’
“Say it. What’s your concern?”
“I don’t think we’re ready for another war, Boss.” He curls one side of his mouth in apology.
