“You’re quiet today. Everything good?”
I glance over at my closest brother, Skull, and shrug.
“Don’t give me that. You know I’m going to keep asking until you tell me.”
I snicker. Nicknamed for his hardheaded behavior, the mohawked brother didn’t know the meaning of the word quit.
“Just working on Blue.”
Skull whistles. “So, you really went after that full force, then?”
“Since the first day back.”
“You got a thing for the family?”
“Fuck you, Skull. You know how it is with her,” I say.
He laughs. “Yeah, brother, I do, just never got it. I mean, she’s a sweetheart, but there’s no…fire in her. She’s so buttoned up and stuffy. If it weren’t for her old man, she wouldn’t be here with us. You know what I mean?”
“You’d be surprised. Bolton got into it with some preppy kid at school, and she was a beast in the principal’s office. Hell, I don’t think she needed me to take care of business.”
“Bluebell Strong?” Skull asks.
“Yeah, man, she had old Dick stuttering and struggling to find the words. Shit was amusing. She might not be the type to use her fists, but she can run circles around the best of them with her tongue. She’s sharp in that legal way we need more of around here,” I say.
“Man, you got a serious hard-on for this girl.” Skull grins, a toothpick dangling out of his mouth.
I roll my eyes. “Really, brother?”
“Just enjoying seeing the convict gush over his boo thing,” Skull teases.
“Don’t think I won’t take a chance at cracking that thick ass skull of yours if you keep it up,” I warn.
“All right, all right. I’ll lay off. What’s gumming the works up? I figured you’d have a property of tat and vest on her by now.”
“Yeah, me too. She’s all worried about what people will think.”
Skull frowns. “Civilians? Like at her work?”
“No, then it’d be easy. The club, man, and I think…her sister.”
“Fuck that hot mess. I mean, no disrespect to your baby mama, but she’s been a bag full of crazy for as long as I can remember. No one is going to bat an eyelash over her finding happiness with you. We all saw she got the raw deal while dealing with her sister.”
“Yeah, I think that’s why she comes off so…restricted. But don’t worry, I got the cure all for that.”
Skull laughs. “I bet you do.” He continues to wipe down the bar table.
We’re managers of one of Kings’ legal business, Chaos, a bar and grill. I like the gig. I get to be around booze, brothers, and a little bit of live music. It’s a newer place that went up while I was gone. The crowd is mild at one in the afternoon. They don’t really need me, but I’m learning the ropes, so I don’t mind the slow pace. “What? She’s in her thirties now. I can’t be accused of corrupting her.”
“The hell you can’t,” Skull mutters.
The door bursts open and cops dressed from head to toe in black flood in like a storm cloud. Yellow letters across the back of their vests identify them as the F.B.I. This isn’t local PD. This is federal. I narrow my eyes. It means the Feds have been watching us. I find myself looking down the barrel of a half a dozen weapons. Thank God we moved the guns out of the storage unit last night.
“Arms above your heads. Step back from the bar and walk over here nice and slow,” an officer says. He sports a square jaw, gray hair cut close to his head, and rattle-snake mean dark eyes. Clearly, he’s the lead on this project.
I raise my hands in the air and take a step back as requested. I’m not going to do anything to violate my parole. I’ve been a good boy. Clean pee, same address, and a steady occupation. I slowly make my way over to the cops who pull my hands down and cuff me along with Skull. We’re taken out of the building and separated.
“Sit.”