“No, thank you,” I uttered without looking back at her this time. My gaze landed on my father, my anger flaring. “Speaking of cousin, Jake, he’s fucked up again,” I uttered. The words erupted from my mouth through gritted teeth. I waited until our new maid went back into the kitchen before I continued.
“I don’t know if he and his brother are taking the damn drugs they’re supposed to be selling, but I had to pay Dixon two grand he claimed they’d shorted him. I went ahead and paid him to keep things cool, but I’m going to need you to get my money from Jake. If I face him, I’m going to whip his dumb redneck ass.”
Much of the rest of our meeting went the same, with us discussing the problems we faced by trying to stay on a straighter path and the problems my twin cousins, Jake and Jackson, had been stirring up inside and outside the MC.
* * *
By the timemy father got around to telling me the full story on our new maid, I’d already pieced most of it together. My father was right. This Megan was one crazy bitch. She’d subjected herself to a bunch of bikers known as racist for the sake of saving her sister. From what I could surmise, her sister wasn’t worth a damn. Megan had somehow managed to infiltrate my MC, and that was a stunt that not even I would have pulled.
“Why don’t you take our little maid for a few days?” my father suggested. “Let her give your place a good cleaning. You can use her work as a small down payment on the money Jake owes you.”
I glanced at my father, flashing a have-you-lost-your-fucking-mind look.
“Fuck no! You want me to bring her into my house. Just because she has you fooled that she’s some crazy bitch trying to save her sister, it doesn’t mean I’m going to jump on the bandwagon and believe that shit too.”
“Son, you were the one who suggested we become more mainstream and look more legit. We can’t get no more mainstream than this. Since it’s so damn late, I’ll drop her off at your place tomorrow.”
I didn’t feel up to arguing with my father. Occasionally, he made questionable decisions, and I was starting to wonder if he wasn’t coming down with early signs of dementia. My grandfather had developed the brain sickness when he was in his fifties, and my father had just turned fifty-two. I’d already decided if I started forgetting long stretches of time, I was going to eat a fucking bullet and two if the first one didn’t work.
Glancing over at my father stirred my anger. I released an irritated sigh.
“Whatever. I’m going to take care of a few more drops and take my tired ass home. I don’t have time for this kind of crazy shit you have going on here.”
I walked away with not so much as a backward glance. I’d fucking seen and heard enough for one day.