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“Lazy and ready to retire–a lot like the one we got.” Prez shoots him back his answer with a smug look on his face.
“This sounds like an extra workload to me,” Thorne says dubiously. Another town means more money, and our treasurer has enough to deal with.
“You saying you can’t handle the cash roll ol’ man?” Troj laughs and Thorne scowls back at him.
“I’m just saying we got our work cut out, is all.”
“Pueblo will run itself. It ain’t home. I’m not as concerned about keeping the streets clean as I am here. We just wanna control what comes in and what goes out. We set the prices. Thorne, we can always find other businesses to launder through.”
Jessie shoots my brother a look across the table.
“Calm yourself, VP. I promised your old ladies their business would be legit, and the club gifted her that building as payment for services rendered,” Prez assures Jessie, who seems to relax a little.
“Brax, Tac, Grimm, and Thorne, you head out there now until the temper twins take over later. Everyone be on standby in case we have a chance to make a move. I want Kenny G found, and I want him out of Pueblo.”
“Done,” Brax agrees, and Prez slams the gavel.
“Graveyard shift, fucking graveyard shift,” Squealer moans under his breath as we walk out of church and toward the clubhouse.
I light up a cigarette and head through the entrance. I left Lydia upstairs in the kitchen with Marilyn before church. She likes helping out, and I know it takes her mind off the things she talks about with Grace. I also know that Marilyn’s grown fond of her, the same way everyone else around here has.
“Alex wants you and that old lady of yours to come over for dinner tonight,” Squealer mentions as he follows me inside. “She’s getting all homey and shit. Baking and cooking all the damn time. Which I will apologize in advance for, by the way.”
Lydia rushes down the stairs when she sees us, practically launching herself off the bottom step at me.
“Screw, are you even listening to me?” Squealer asks, “Are you in or not?” he clobbers me around the back of my head.
“Yeah, we’re in.” I slip my arm around Lydia’s waist and plant a kiss on top of her head.
“If you’re talking about dinner, Alex already asked me,” Lydia smiles at my brother.
“Yeah, but me and your boy here just got put on the graveyard shift, so it’s gonna have to be an early one,” Squealer explains, clearly sore about the fact we’ll be working tonight.
“What’s this I’m hearing about a graveyard shift?” Alex marches through the club doors right on cue, and Squealer ignores the fact she looks pissed and kisses her on her cheek.
“You heard it, darlin’, me, Screwy, and Storm have gotta be over at Pueblo tonight,” he tells her.
“But I’m making tacos.” Alex frowns. “I thought it would be nice to have a family dinner. Ella and Nyx do a Sunday thing with Brax, Grace, and Prez. I thought we could make Friday nights our family night.”
Squeal turns away, pretending to scratch his mouth so she can’t see him snigger, but Alex doesn't miss a thing.
“What?” she snaps.
“Nothing,” Squealer shakes his head, trying real hard not to laugh.
“Cody…” Alex groans.
“Okay,” He raises his hands in defeat. “It's just we’re not really Friday night dinner kinda people. Alex… You're not Friday night dinner people. You hate to cook,” he points out, his voice a little more high-pitched than normal. It amuses me every time I see my brother get like this.
“Well, we are tonight,” Alex confirms, turning to face me and Lyd with a smile. “I’ll see you guys around six.” She turns and heads back inside the bar room.
“I’m telling you, those kids are doing something to her,” Squealer waits until the coast is clear before he speaks.
Turns out, dinner was actually great. Not the food–that shit was nasty. But watching Lydia be comfortable around the people I care about gave me a really nice feeling. It makes me feel a little less selfish about the relief I’ve been feeling that Lydia hasn’t made contact with her family.
“We gotta head out,” Squealer says just as Alex starts cleaning up the plates. “Don’t wait up. We’ll probably be there until morning. Those crackheads are nocturnal creatures.” He grabs his cut and goes to Alex, his hand stroking over her stomach as he kisses her goodbye.
“I’ll miss you,” Lydia tells me, coming toward me with a stack of serving dishes in her hands.
