Ghost grinned. “It’s about time you put that moped back together. Come the fuck home for a weekend. We need a night out.”
Case chuckled. “Hey maybe we can grab Griz and drive 50 miles to the nearest Thai spot that’s closed.”
Ghost started laughing. “That was some night. I wanted to kill him.”
Case pulled a cigarette from his pack and put it in his mouth, then talked around it. “Remember we were so hungry by then that we ended up eating five dollar pizza?”
“It was fucking good, too.”
“By then gas station hotdogs would have tasted good.”
Sandman looked over. “Hey, I like gas station hotdogs.”
Blood swiveled his head toward him. “You would. Don’t you have a blonde to go bother?”
Sandman looked over at her. “I’m lettin’ her ferment a while.”
“Yeah, that’ll help.”
“Your Shovel-head still leaking oil everywhere you park it?” Case asked Ghost.
“It’s not leaking oil. It’s marking its territory.”
Case chuckled. “Right.”
The bartender took his order and brought him a beer. His cell went off, and he looked down at the screen. “Mutha-fucking hell. 12 missed calls. Women. If I don’t answer the fucking phone she immediately thinks I’m cheating. It’s like, Bitch, I’m riding!”
“No shit,” Sandman agreed with a laugh. “Testify.”
“Am I right?” Case asked him.
“You’re right.”
“Thank you.”
“But you do manage to keep her happy and around.”
Case shrugged. “I got a sweet ass.”
Shades looked over his shoulder at the table in the corner where the other Gulf Chapter members had taken up residence, and then back at Case. “This the usual with them?”
“Yup. Been binging for two days now.”
“You?”
“Me? Shit no. I steer clear of that crap. I’m high enough on life, can’t you tell?”
A grin pulled at the corner of Shades’ mouth, but he nodded toward the table. “It becoming a problem?”
“Hey, he’s my Prez. What do you want me to say here?”
“We’re here to help, Case. I’m gonna be straight with you. This is between you and me, understood?” Shades said in a low hushed voice.
Case nodded.
“Future of your whole chapter is on the line.”
“Fuck.”