“We can trust him,” I say.
“Go talk to him. Anyone else have any comments? Additions? Suggestions?”
Pax sputters. “Seriously? Why isn’t my info enough?”
“Your info is a great start, Paxton. But we can’t rely on one informant’s information. We have to tread carefully in this case, and if we make even a minor fucking mistake, it could get someone killed. So no, we will not act on the statement of one informant. That would be stupid.”
Everyone else nods. “Aye” is said in turn, and so my father bangs the gavel on the table to end the meeting.
I walk out with Brooks.
“Do you still have his number?” I ask him.
He sits down next to me on the low wall in front of the clubhouse and fishes his phone out of his pocket. After some tapping, he scrolls. It takes a few minutes before he presses the device to his ear.
“Paisley here. Kyler and I have some questions for you and your dad.” For a moment, there’s only silence. “Business. Nothing exciting. Yeah, exactly.” He rubs his chin thoughtfully. “In an hour at Club V. See you there.”
The cell phone disappears back into his pocket and he grabs my cigarette, from which he takes a drag before handing it back. “You heard it. I’ll give Jen a call that I’ll be late.”
Nodding, I stomp out the cigarette and pull my cell phone out of my pocket. I just get a hold of it when Pax appears in front of me.
I give him a bored look. “What do you want?”
“I asked Josh if he could request and review Infinity’s accounts.” He stares at his shoes. “I’ll check with Carly tonight and get them to him.”
I give him a few pats against his cheek. “Sounds good. Curious to see if anything comes from it.” I take a step to pass him.
“Ky?”
I turn to my little brother.
“I just don’t want…”
I nod, “I know. You’re trying to do what’s right for the club.”
“So things are good between us?” His eyebrow goes up.
“Fuck’s sake, what are you thinking? You’re my little brother. If I expect anyone to stand up to me, it’s you, asshole.”
I don’t elaborate on my thoughts about his informant. That will be taken care of.
With a nod at him, I open a text thread with Layne on my phone and start typing.
Seventeen
Assoonasthedoor closes, I tell Rebel, “Why don’t you go take a shower, and I’ll clean up in here.”
She nods, then hops toward the bedroom and into the adjacent bathroom. There’s a brief delay, followed by the resonant sound of cascading water. Meanwhile, I gather Rebel’s laundry. With the enormous pile in my arms, I also walk to the bedroom. Rebel’s singing in the shower as I drop the clothes in the laundry basket by the door. Then I flop on the edge of the bed and stare at the sink. Last night’s scene replays before my eyes.
The words circle in my head. The club wasn’t a terrible place to grow up. Mom and Dad were always there for me until Mom passed away. Looking back on all of it now, I realize that the reason I left had more to do with my irrational fear that mychildren would lose their parents prematurely. My father often came home with cuts, bruises, or broken bones, yet my parents’ deaths were unrelated to the club.
I startle when Rebel walks into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around her long hair.
“Can we have a talk, baby girl?” I pat the bed next to me.
Sighing, she plops down next to me. “What do you want to talk about, Mom?”
I take a deep breath. “You know this is all temporary, right?” My little girl looks at me. “But what if this became our lives? This club.”
