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As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I want to call them back. I told myself it didn’t matter that he wasn’t here, but apparently, it does.
Dip chuckles. “Miss me already?”
“No,” I insist.
“Whatever you say. And I’ll be there soon. Something came up at the clubhouse that I had to handle.”
“What?”
“I wish I could tell ya, but I can’t. Club business.”
I have no idea what that means. “Oh, okay.”
“What’s he saying?” Jenny says, not all that quietly. “Put it on speaker so I can hear.”
“She knows I can hear her, right?” Dip asks. “Might as well put me on speaker. That way I only have to say this once.”
I switch to the speakerphone and hold the cell between Jenny and me. “Go ahead,” I tell him.
“There are going to be times when I can’t tell you things or that my plans change, and it’s not because I’m trying to hide anything from you, but club business is club business.”
“Sorta like church business was church business,” I snark.
“It’s nothing like that,” he snarls. “The secrets we keep are to protect you, and us. They’re not because we like hiding things or want to control you.”
“I’ve watched SOA, I get it,” Jenny says.
“That’s a fucking TV show, not real life,” Dip snaps, but then he sighs.
“Well, I haven’t seen it, so I don’t get it.”
“Kennedy, this is one of those times I’m gonna need you to just trust me, okay?”
I stare at Jenny, silently begging for her opinion, and she nods.
“Fine,” I say.
“Good. Now that that’s settled,” Dip begins. “I’ll be there soon. Are you working tonight?”
Again, I glance at Jenny, and she shakes her head.
“No.”
“Then be ready to go in thirty.”
Dip disconnects the call, leaving me to wonder what he has planned. But before I can put much thought into it, the door to Barlow’s flies open, and a bartender I recognize from my first night here storms in.
“What the fuck’s with all the Harleys out front?” he demands as he stomps his way toward Jenny.
“Why are you here, Bryce?” she asks. “Didn’t you get my voicemails?”
“The ones where you fired me? Yeah, I got ‘em.”
“Then again, why are you here?”
Two of the bikers—Toga and Brady, as they introduced themselves—who are working on the security system amble from the kitchen and zero their attention on Bryce. They don’t intervene, but it’s clear they’re watching and listening.
“Because I work here,” Bryce insists. “You can’t fire me over voicemail.”
