My brows raise at the information. “You didn’t mention any other businesses when we saw you yesterday.”
He shrugs a big ass shoulder, “Had to see if y’all were for real. You look like good folks to me, so I ain’t worried none.” I snort at that. “And Mama’s tired of keepin’ up with Gramps’s businesses.Says she wants to start enjoyin’ her retirement before she’s too old to water ski or some fool thing like that.”
I stare at him for a moment wondering if he’s finished. “I’d have to check with my Prez, but what is your mom thinking?”
“She wants out of the BBQ Shack. Place did real well till Earl, the pit man with them crazy good ribs, went and gave himself the black lung. Oh, and there’s that sorry-lookin dive bar sittin’ on the marina behind the bait shop if you need a drink or somethin’ to keep you busy.” He gives me a sleazy wink. “Anyway, I just come by to let y’all know. Woulda called, but I ain’t got none of your numbers.” He salutes, then turns to leave, throwing a wave over his shoulder.
I watch him walk away. He’s odd, no doubt about it, but he also seems like the kind of guy you want to know. He’s the type that knows everything, everyone, and where to source things. Both legalandillegal. Shaking my head I make my way back into the clubhouse.
“Yo Prez, I got a bead on a couple of businesses that may be worth looking at.”
Dex stands in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. Unlike Marx, who is built like the biggest brick shithouse around, Dex is leaner but no less imposing.
“What have you got?”
“The bait shop grandson? Turns out the grandfather owns a shit ton of stuff that got lumped on the daughter. We’re here and keen and she wants to get rid of a BBQ shack and a dive bar.”
Prez runs a hand down his beard, and I don’t miss a couple of the brothers perking up at the thought of a bar. With us housing survivors we can’t be bringing strange back here, but that doesn’t mean we can’t own a place where we can hook up if we want.
He nods, sharing a look with Sniper who doesn’t give a thing away. “TumTum! What are you like at BBQ-ing?”
“My grandmomma owned the first and only female run smokehouse back in my hometown. Spent my childhood there when my mom walked out on my dad,” TumTum says nonchalantly as we stare at him.
“What the fuck, man?” Chef grumbles.
“What?” TumTum asks in confusion.
“We prospected together, how come I don’t know any of this shit about you?”
“You didn’t-”
TumTum is interrupted by Chef’s loud, long groan. I bite my lips to not laugh out loud. TumTum was just the quiet guy on the DRMC gate that took a bullet to the gut. Quiet, unassuming. Turns out the kid has a lot more up his sleeve than anyone ever expected.
“Justice and the Landrys, how popular are these businesses?” Prez barks, getting the attention of me and my brothers.
“Well, I can’t speak for the bar, but the shack was an institution in Adonner until Earl up and died,” Justice says.
“And the bar is the exact type of place we need. Loose women, flowing liquor and some pretty damn good live music,” Saint adds.
“So turns a good profit?”
“That and it’s on the waterfront in a straight shot from here. We want to collect anyone or send anyone away without having eyes on them? Exchanges can all be done from the bar during daylight hours.”
“Easier than getting them to some of the other contact points.” Omen adds.
“Sniper, contact the grandson again. I want you and Vex with me when we ride out, get more eyes on these places. Could be exactly what we’re looking for.” Sniper nods at Prez then moves silently down the hall, presumably to his own office.
The Keep is now a place of healing, I can only hope it works for him. I have a feeling Judge’s Ol Lady Kaia did him a huge favor by getting rid of his brother, but still. That shit has gotta hurt.
“Hi, um, I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Loyal’s husky voice calls out from the doorway, hands clasped in front of her.
“Not at all, sweetheart, follow me,” Dex tips his head toward his office and I have to clamp my jaw shut so as to not offer to join them.
“Brother, you better take a breath, Maybe go for a walk or something. Shit, you looked like you were going to fight Prez when he asked Loyal to follow him.” Saint smirks, smug asshole.
“I just worry about her.”
Omen gives me a look that screams I’m a fucking idiot but you know what? I don’t care. I’ve spent six months gaining my patch so I could get back and start my life here, at the Keep, and I want Loyal to be part of that life. In any capacity she is willing.
