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When I went down to the mother charter for a club party for Delia’s birthday, she couldn’t make it, spent most of the evening in the hospital with her aunt who was dangerously dehydrated. She didn’t get back until nearly midnight and then when I called and told her that I’d had a chat with Jojo who was very willing to take her back with the other girlfriends and wives, she burst into emotional tears. When I got to the aunt’s place a few hours later, she was crashed. Didn’t even budge when I climbed in beside her and pulled her close. The prospect on duty had let me in after telling me the aunt was a wretched bitch and that he thought my girl was a saint.
The next morning, I woke up with Gigi staring at me, and before she got a chance to clear the trouble in her eyes, I read it. She played it off as nothing.
Despite that making me pissed, I wanted to fuck, wanted to see under that mask, but she bashfully told me she just got her period. She offered to blow me. The sound of her aunt hacking her brains out meant I nixed that idea. I asked her to come for breakfast, to go for a ride so we could spend time together without whispering before Tracy’s surprise bridal shower at the clubhouse, but she suddenly came down with bad cramps, so I went out and bought her a heating pad, dropped it off and kissed her goodbye.
Before I’d left, we briefly talked about the fact Vic’s woman was pregnant so about to leave to get hitched, inviting whoever wanted to come to their Caribbean destination wedding to show up. I said that though we couldn’t get away for obvious reasons, we should think about a vacation when things settled. I asked where she’d want to go and she was distant with me, non-committal about it, and that pissed me off some more.
“What’s the status on this nurse thing?” was one of my last questions before I left.
She said applications had been filled out and sent in. They were waiting for word.
“When it’s sorted, I’m done with this long-distance shit. I want you home.”
I didn’t like the doe-eyed, sad look she gave me as a reply.
On my way out, her aunt was in the kitchen pouring herself a glass of pop. I’d noted she had a little more weight in her face, though no less of a scowl, and she had on the wig made of my girl’s hair which grinded my fuckin’ gears.
“Oh, you’re here again,” she’d muttered, still in bitch mode.
I said nothing to her on my way out the door.
My phone rang ten minutes after I filled my gas tank.
“G,” I greeted.
“Jesse, there’s five hundred dollars here under my pillow.”
“Left that for you. Use it for whatever you need. And if you haven’t gotten your holiday pay by the next time I’m there, I’m paying a visit to your old boss.”
“I’m not gonna spend this. You already gave a bunch of money to Delia for the groceries she’s been buying for here.”
“Stop arguing with me, woman. I’m not leaving you without any cash when you have no way of making money since you’re there looking after your aunt. Not havin’ you go without. Rest, get rid of that bellyache. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” I muttered.
“Not tonight.”
I rubbed my forehead. “I can call you tonight,” I muttered.
“It’s okay if you’re busy,” she said sadly, “Please just text me when you’re home so I know you’re safe. Bye.”
She hung up when I didn’t reply. I didn’t reply because I was pissed off. But I didn’t call her back.
When I got back, I needed to work off some of my frustration, so I went to the gym and beat the snot out of the heavy bag. Fork was at the gym, too, and he seemed to be in the same mood as I was.
These last few weeks, shit with the club had been busy. Between the garage and the moves being made around the resurgence of the Jackals, I hadn’t seen much of her. And I’d probably see even less over the next few weeks unless she got her ass back here where she belonged.
Word was that the remaining Jackals were trying to finagle a deal, shopping around for firepower from clubs that had reputations for mowing down other clubs that tried to get in their way.
One club we knew they were talking to was the Freebooters. But Brady’s father Torque was now cellmates with an OG Freebooter who was fifteen years into a twenty-five-year sentence. That booter was gonna talk to his people on Torque’s behalf, warn that the Jackals were what their name suggested. We’d see what happened there. Freebooters were not men we wanted as enemies.
