I still didn’t see Oak, but I wasn’t all that worried about Eric’s partner in crime. “Yeah… what the fuck is everybody kissing your ass for? Why is there a party? What did you do?”
Eric laughed and raised his shoulders, “Slutty Benji said fuck invisible patches.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Ol’ George slid him another beer and Easy swigged before shrugging again, “It means he made me start as a fucking prospect. He wanted Oak patched as one, too, but C.C. sent him on a mission.”
I gave a slow nod, knowing damn well why C.C. had. Oak’s mother would box, and he had to go home to her.
“What happens if you get caught with that patch while you’re still in uni–?”
“Not your concern, is it?” Easy spun in his seat and stood up, walking off before I could say another word.
“You done being his mother?” Mark piped up, not having moved from the doorway.
As soon as my gaze landed on him, I could tell he regretted his choice of words. He lifted his weight off the doorframe as I started toward him, “What the fuck did you just say?”
I didn’t see Vick, but that big bastard was between us in a flash.
Mark’s expression suddenly went blank and he held a hand out in front of him, “It was a term of expression, Ant. Calm down.”
“Why don’t you leave our mother out of shit. Matter of fact, if you want to worry about mothers, why don’t you worry about the mother of your children. How's that dentist drillin’ her these days anyhow?”
He threw a shot around Vick that missed by a mile, and the whole room went up. Makaveli shoved me, knocking me into the coffee bar. Several mugs flew off and shattered on the floor nearby.
Sasha’s high-pitched scream sent shock waves through my system as I grappled with her husband.
“Hey, you got a fuckin’ mouth on you, man. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Makaveli roared while slamming me into the wall.
“Enough!” Mark snapped, shooting into the conference room and slamming the door.
C.C. pulled Makaveli off of me and shoved him at Montana, who escorted him back to his wife.
“We ain’t got time for this. We’re riding in ten minutes,” C.C. called over the masses, before popping me on the shoulder, “Get on your bike, man. Fuck.”
I didn’t even ask where we were riding. I marched outside, grateful for the fresh air and lack of tension. I expected everyone to follow us out, but only Montana and C.C. emerged from the clubhouse.
“Where are we headed?”
“Going to visit a brother, he’ll give us an address, and we’ll pick up a package,” Montana explained, in that broken way that said he was concentrating on something else.
I looked over and found him digging in his saddlebag. He took out a forty-five, loaded it and held it out in offering.
I hesitated briefly, before accepting it. “I thought you said it was a visit, I can’t walk into a correctional institute with that motherfucker or they’ll be making room for me, too.”
“You’re just standing guard at the highway; make sure we don’t get company at the prison.”
I blinked and tried to conjure a mental image in which that actually played out right, but I couldn’t.
“Right, and… I’m supposed to what? Light someone up in front of the guard towers and a thousand inmates if they look sketchy?”
“No. There is a college campus next to the Centralia prison. You’re gonna sit pretty right there and watch the highway.” Montana fired up his bike, and walked it back, leaving me to stare.
“I hear they just took up a prospect, you know?” I pointed out, feeling slightly put off by the assignment.
I was supposed to sit in a college parking lot and twiddle my thumbs with a pistol? That didn’t even sound like a decent idea. Suppose they had security, or nosy-ass college kids?
C.C. fired up his bike without further conversation, leaving me with little choice but to follow.
