I groan at the thought of having to leave her, but Keyshawn insists on pushing me away and forcing me to attend to business matters, which aren’t nearly as entertaining as taking my wife from behind in our sauna again.
“Go to work, Deacon. I’m not going to let you get me pregnant if you don’t work.”
Seneca and Moses barely let me get out of my car when I get to the casino before they start pestering me with their complaints. Seneca taps on the window of my car aggressively while I scroll through my phone looking at a couple pictures of Keyshawn I snapped before leaving the sauna. There’s something about her soaking wet dark brown ass cheeks that gets me motivated to endure another night of bullshit at the casino.
While I would love to continue to use Keyshawn as a perfect distraction, I also know she’s totally right that I have to go to work. Word about the Magnum situation spread around the club and now I’m curious to get to work on finding the culprit. I called some reliable members of the club who live nearby to help with recon.
Ruger and Zayna are tracking Oske’s movements ever since her therapy session with Amanda revealed absolutely nothing, so I can’t have Ruger Blackwood by my side. Instead, I got Reed and his best buddy, Zeb. The good thing about Blackwood boys is they have no problems killing for money and they rarely ask for much of it. Our military trains them well and I don’t normally have to worry about clean up or loose ends.
“Deacon! Get out of the car!”
I sigh and set my phone down on the dashboard. Moses drags Seneca away from my car and she turns on him with the emotional regulation skills of an alleycat as she scratches aggressively at his face. I sigh and open my car door as Moses attempts to peel his long-term enemy/situationship off of him while she continues her attack with a volley of verbal abuse.
“The next time you put your hands on me, I’m going to kill you, Moses! I swear your entitled ass is going to die. DIE!”
She must have been drinking tonight. Great.
“Seneca, you need to chill.”
Moses chuckles as he forces her to stop climbing him like a tree to get a better angle for attacking his eyes. Over the past couple of years, I think the two of them have gone at it like rabbits a couple of times, but their breakups are just as intense as their makeups. I don’t have the time to tell whether they’re on or off right now. Once I step out of the car, becoming somewhat of a commanding presence, Seneca drops her catfighting and focuses her attention on me.
“Your brother Cody is a pig! He offered me $50 for a blowjob and when I said that he was a disgusting pig, he offered me $500 to take on him and Reed at the same time. Do I look like a hooker, Deacon?”
I glance over her shoulder at Moses, suddenly sweating. I keep my thoughts on those matters mostly to myself, but I can see Seneca’s headlights poking through her very low cut white top. She has her midriff exposed, high heels that bring her up to almost six feet tall and a pair of denim shorts that barely contains her ass cheeks.
“You do look like a hooker,” Moses says, taking the heat off me by acting like the asshole instead. “Which is why I keep telling you to stop dressing like one and dress like my girl for once?”
“I’ll dress like your girl when you start getting tipped like someone with hot tits, Moses. We can’t pay the fucking rent in Fortnite tokens.”
“My son apologized.”
“Great!” Seneca screams. “We’ll pay the rent with fucking apologies. Deacon, go in there and tell your brother if heevercalls me a hooker again, I’m going to slash three of his tires and take a big shit right in his truck bed.”
She turns on me and shoves Moses, hard on her way back towards the casino.
“Call me a hooker again and I’ll fuck your best friend.”
“Seneca!”
“Leave me alone, you asshole.”
They keep fighting (loudly) as they walk into the club together. I sigh and consider having a cigarette before heading into the casino for the night to solve everyone's problems but my own. I miss my wife already. Cody should know better than to instigate a fight with Seneca of all people.
Moses must have some type of psychological problem to follow her around like a lost puppy the way that he does.
When I walk into the casino, we have a healthy population of gamblers and drinkers for the night – mostly bikers and aspiring bikers. There are a few biker chicks hanging around, but nobody I recognize. One of the dark-haired girls leaning all over Stacy Shaw might be a member of the Shaw family. I can’t be too certain.
I greet the men I came to see for the night as they turn around in anticipation of my entrance. Seneca and Moses must have flown past them interlocked in their argument.
“Good evening, gentlemen.”
“Good evening, boss,” Zebulon drawls in a heavy, country accent. Cody gets up off his bar stool and opens his arms wide togive me a hug. He booms at me with a voice loud enough to tame a wild stallion.
“DEACON, it’s been way too long, brother. Let me prove I’m still stronger than you…”
Before I can sidestep my brother’s need for excessive physical affection – or physical affection of any kind, really – he wraps me up in a big hug. I can smell the beer and tobacco on his buckskin jacket plus the lingering sweat on his Stetson hat, all familiar.
“I missed you, brother,” Cody says, kissing me on the cheek before I wrestle my body away from him. He grins at me with delight that he managed to piss me off so quickly, although he pissed me off before I entered the casino from what he just said to Seneca.
