“You know it’s illegal to carry a gun that isn’t registered to you?”
“Yes, sir.”
He handed the weapon off to another police officer. “You’re gonna have to come down to the station, so we can write this up.”
“Sure.” He followed the policeman to his vehicle.
“Aiken!” he turned to look over his shoulder at me with a grin. I couldn’t help but smile. “Make sure you try get my pop’s gun back, or next time he takes you down to the range to show you how to shoot, you’re gonna be the target.” I tried to give him all the info he would need to make things sound legit. They would ask him who the gun was registered to, and if he couldn’t tell them they might try to do him for theft.
“Sure, Prez.”
“We’ll catch you there, Brother.”
He lifted his chin and climbed in the back of the police car.
The guys got their guns back, all clear, and we watched the cop cars file out of the small lot.
“Why was the kid carrying a gun?” Loose asked, knowing that prospects weren’t allowed to carry weapons unless told specifically to do so by me.
“It’s mine! He fucking slipped it from the back of my pants when we filed out of the place and saw the red and blues. Didn’t even fucking feel it. I was sweating bullets when they came to pat me down.”
The boys all laughed. “Kid has a quick mind and even quicker hands.” Rifle laughed.
“Yeah, to lift that without you noticing. That was fucking ballsy,” Loose commented.
“Lift…I like it. Think he just earned his road name and saved my ass from a long haul in a cell all at once.” I knew Aiken was quick, but not many would have put two and two together and thought that fast.
“Lift it is.” Rifle nodded, the others all grunted in agreement. “Well, let’s go support our boy. Hopefully with a first offense, he’ll get out of it with a fine.”