“No. None that I’d like to remember, anyway.”
“Guess I’ll have to come up with a nickname for you then.”
“I guess so.”
He started the ignition and then we drove away. Colt turned on the radio to a classic rock station, almost like he knew I didn’t want to talk and needed time to think. The papers on my lap drew my attention, but I made no move to study them.
Acid and the other prospects let us through the gate. Colt took the papers from me as we walked into the clubhouse. Cam, Lily, and Silas were eating grilled cheese sandwiches at the breakfast bar. Lily jumped off her stool and ran to me and embraced my legs. I swept her up into a hug, closing my eyes and breathing in the smell of little girl and sunshine. She was exactly what I needed after the morning I’d had.
Darcy was sitting with Gray in the living room and Rachel was drinking a bottle of Pepto Bismol.
“Still hungover?” I asked after setting Lily down. She ran to her mother and crawled up next to her.
Rachel nodded. “It’s awful. I’ve only been able to suck down coffee and eat a piece of toast.”
“I haven’t even eaten today,” I said.
“You can have half my sandwich,” Cam said, offering the mangled shred to me, complete with sticky child’s handprints in the bread.
“Thanks, but you should finish it.” I smiled and then looked at Darcy. “Where is everyone?
“Joni had a shift at the hospital,” Darcy said. “Zip went with her, much to her consternation. They got into a big argument in front of everyone.”
“I didn’t want her out there on her own,” Colt said. “Not with all this sh—”
“Colt,” I interrupted, widening my eyes and gesturing with my chin to the kids.
He grinned suddenly. “Stuff. All this stuff going on.”
“I agree with you,” Darcy said. “But clearly Joni had some other ideas about how it was supposed to go down. Allison—last I knew—was suffering from a bout of morning sickness and Torque has been looking after her. Cheese is conked out after being on watch last night. Reap and Boxer are at the garage and Acid and the prospects are out front—which you saw when you came in.”
She pinned me with her eyes. “You guys get done what you needed to get done?”
I shrugged. Colt had told Boxer where we were headed and apparently Boxer had relayed it to everyone. It was difficult to keep a secret from any of them. They were a close-knit family, all up in each other’s business. It was still a foreign concept to me, but I was slowly coming around to the new dynamic.
“Let’s go to the office,” he said.
I followed him down the hall. He closed the door once we were both in private. It was a small room with a desk and laptop, a file cabinet in the corner, and two chairs in front of the desk. It wasn’t a place for all the Blue Angels to congregate, but Zip and Colt often disappeared into the room to discuss things privately between them before taking it to their brothers.
Colt set down the stack of papers on his desk and waved me toward them. “Have a seat.”
I took the swivel leather chair and started pawing my way through the papers. “Why?” I asked, my hands stilling.
“Why did Richie give you the bar?”
I nodded. “It doesn’t make any sense. I was his employee. I mean, he knew me. He knew I had no one except Shelly. Besides, he told me to leave town for a while. Why would he tell me that and then give me his bar?”
“Maybe he was giving you a new chance at life if you decided to come back to Waco,” Colt said.
“But you don’t just give someone a profitable business. Richie owed nothing on the building. You know?”
“Wait a minute. Think about what you just said. Richie left you the bar, with no clear reason, right? And Dev is looking for a shipment, yes?”
“Yeah, so?”
“So Richie gets in bed with the Iron Horsemen, but it proves to be too much. So how do you wipe out your enemy?The Art of War. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
“Richie stole a shipment from Dev thinking someone else was going to get rid of Dev for him. He left you the bar because he didn’t expect Dev to be around to cause you problems. And he certainly didn’t expect Dev to catch up with him. If Dev was gone and Richie had gotten away with the shipment, he wouldn’t give a fuck about the bar; he’d be loaded.”