“Whatever helps you sleep at night, brother.” Casa turned back to the computer.
“It’snot. Ithink she’sin trouble.”
“That bitchistrouble. Ithink she invented the word,” he chuckled, and shook his head.
“Preaching to the choir, man,” Isighed.
He chuckled again. “All right, Ineed her number so Ican trace her.”
Iopened Dom’sphone and searched through the call list in search of her before reading it out to Casa. Iwas tempted to call her back, but Ihad afeeling she wouldn'tanswer because she’dknow it was me, and Ineeded to make sure she didn’tturn her phone off.
“All right. Got her.”
“That quick?” Iasked, surprised.
“Brother, I’mjust that good.” He winked before continuing. “She’sat Hazy Nights. Damn, Iused to have agreat time in there. Not been in afair few years, what with our own enterprise fulfilling my needs and now my beautiful woman satisfying me.”
Casa had been running the Pit, the Highwaymen’sstrip club, for two to three years, and it had gone from strength to strength, earning us more in some weekends than our own garage.
Istared at the screen, at the little blinking dot showing me where Jolie currently was, and wondered what my next play was. Now that Iknew where she was, Iwasn’tsure what to do with that information. Thankfully, Shooter came into his office at that moment, his eyes narrowing at Casa and Isitting at his desk.
“The fuck’sgoin’ on in here?” he grumbled, his words slurred from too much liquor.
“Horse porn,” Casa replied automatically. “Dirty, dirty horse porn, brother. You wanna watch with us?” He clapped his hands together, rubbing them. “Saw this one video once of ahorse and abear...”
“Casa, shut the fuck up before Iknock you out,” Isnapped, wanting to knock him the fuck out regardless when he laughed, completely unperturbed by my threat. “I’mnot sure what, if anything, this is,” Isaid to Shooter.
Shooter stumbled to his small sofa and took aseat, slamming his half empty bottle on the little table in the corner and pulling out his cigarettes. He lit one and blew out along plume of smoke.
“So tell me whatever this may or may not be then,” he said with adismissive wave of his tattooed hand.
“Dom’sphones been ringing all night, but he’sfucked up and fucked off somewhere to sleep it off. Ianswered it, because, well, it was annoying as fuck.” Iglanced at the little flashing dot again. “It was Jolie.”
“Dom’skid sister,” Shooter replied with ascowl. “She’stoo young for you, brother, not to mention the other more important ramifications—”
“She’snineteen,” Ibarked, cutting him off mid-sentence, causing Casa and Shooter to stare at me in suspicion.
“Still akid,” Shooter replied dryly.
“You dirty, dirty dog!” Casa laughed.
“You, can fuck off,” Isaid, pointing at Casa, who only laughed harder, “and Iknow she’sstill akid. That’snot what this is about,” Isaid to Shooter. “She sounded upset. Like, real upset. Told me she’dmessed up but that she’ddeal with it, and then she hung up.”
Ilet my words settle in the air between us, waiting for Shooter to tell me what he wanted me to do. Casa had gone surprisingly quiet, and when Ilooked down Isaw he was looking up porn on the computer, completely engrossed in amass of legs and arms and assholes.
Shooter stood back up, taking another long drag on his cigarette before stubbing it out in the already overflowing ashtray. He headed back to the office door without saying another word.
“Prez?” Iasked with aheavy scowl. “What should Ido?”
“She said she’ddeal with it. It’sprobably nothin’. Just family drama. Or she stole her boyfriend'swallet. You know how fucked up families can be, especially that one.”
“And if it’ssomething more?”
Ilooked like he was pondering the question for amoment before shaking his head and shrugging. “Let Dom deal with it in the morning. Ineed to go find Laney.” He yawned and headed back out into the club.
“Brother, she took off hours ago,” Isaid, and he sighed heavily and left anyway.
Casa stood up suddenly, his hand pressing against the large bulge in his jeans. “Damn, Ineed to find Harlow before my cock explodes.” He took off out into the party again.
Istared after them both, trying to decide what to do next. Something about the way she had sounded on the phone didn’tsit right with me, but Shooter was right—families could be fucked up, and Iknew that theirs was particularly fucked up at the moment.
Closing down the computer, Ishut Shooter’sdoor behind me, feeling more sober than Ihad all night. Greasy was over talking to Cueball, one of our most recent patch-ins, and Dom was still nowhere to be seen. Though Ialready knew he wouldn’tbe of any use if there was aproblem.
The clock on the bar read 3:30 a.m., and in the space of thirty minutes the party had started to wind down. Brothers were either passed out drunk or heading off with some of our girls to the back rooms. The music was still pumping, but now that Casa was dragging Harlow off to bed, someone would turn it off real quick.
There were enough brothers still at the party to handle shit, so Idecided to go home. Iwasn’tin the mood to fuck, and Iwas done with drink for the night, but as Iheaded outside to my bike, straddling it and shoving my helmet on, Ialready knew it wasn’thome that Iwas going to.
