Laughing without any humor, he leans back in his chair and shakes his head. “I can’t fucking believe you.”
The rest of the club hasn’t joined us yet, and I wish they’d hurry up. The last thing I want to do is fight with Zep. And I know it’s best to shut this down as soon as possible. Otherwise, he ends up riled up, pitching the idea that we ride into the night and kill anyone and everyone wearing the Black Venom kutte.
“I know you believe it—”
“Iknowit, Pacino!” he shouts. “They fucking did this!”
“Then prove it.”
“I’m fucking trying!”
Shaking my head, I just stare at him. “How much time are you investing in this, Z? How far are you going to go? What are you going to end up giving up to prove something that may never be able to be proven?”
“As far as I have to. And if I have to give up shit for it, so be it. Johnny would do the same for me.”
Except… he wouldn’t. And didn’t.
He should’ve killed Butch when he found out Butch raped Jolene, but he didn’t. He declared him an enemy. Started a decades-long war, but he didn’t risk his family.
Ichoose to keep my mouth shut. Zeppelin Molloy is wound up to the point he’s ready to pop off. And it’s impossible to get him to listen when he’s like this. It’s like how we tried to explain the risks of his always letting Chanel back in the door whenever she needed a good railing.
Speaking of Chanel, I need to ask around and find out what she’s doing now. Last we heard, Dorian dumped her ass when he found her at Zep’s house when she told Zep she still loved him. That had to have stung.
But he was stupid to think he could ever tame her. She’s like a wild mustang.
“You got something to say?”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“Yeah the fuck you do. Just say it.”
No one else has bothered to show up, and I hate the habitual tardiness of my goddamn brothers. “Fine, but you’re not gonna like it.”
“Spit it out.”
“Johnny wouldn’t give up everything to get justice because he didn’t. Not back then, and he wouldn’t do it now. You have a lot more to lose now, and what we believe or think doesn’t matter if we can’t fucking prove it.”
“Pacino—”
“No, you told me to say it, so you gotta fucking listen. I get it. And I have my own opinions on the accident ruling, too, but you have a family. A woman carrying your baby and a nine-year-old waiting for you at home. To risk losing them because you won’t let up on this gut feeling you have is really fucking stupid.”
He clenches his jaw and shoots daggers at me. “If Johnny had killed Butch, we wouldn’t be here right now.”
“No,youwouldn’t be here right now. The difference between you and Johnny is that he understood risks and made decisions accordingly. He had too much to lose starting a war he wasn’t positive he could win. You’re in the same fucking boat, man. Learn from him.”
To his credit, he takes this in stride. “I liked it better when you didn’t fucking talk.”
I snort. “You pushed me.”
Normally, I don’t have much to say. Not outside of business. But Phoebe’s been under my roof for three days now, and I’m worried she’s rubbing off on me. She asks about my day and tells me about hers. Forces the conversation out of me.
The rest of the club finally filters in, and I’m cursing every one of them in my mind. But it might’ve been the best outcome. Zep’s calmed down, and I just hope he sees beyond his tunnel vision soon.
Jethro looks around at us. “I don’t have much. The Venom have kept a low profile since the attack on Misty, so everyone stay diligent. Keep an eye out. And let’s up security on the businesses. Especially at Velvet. I don’t give a fuck about the gym equipment, but we need to make sure our girls are safe.”
There’s no argument, and we all agree. More business gets discussed, but there’s nothing urgent or pressing. It’s one of the rare times club life can be described as boring.
Maybe uneventful is the better description.
