Page 36 of Rigid

“That’s bullshit,” I said. “White, black, brown, or yellow. Meat hated all motherfuckers equal.”

“Agreed. The ATF brought charges against him. Impossible to fight those pricks.”

“Motherfucker.” I took a hit off my vape and shook my head. “And, I thought my day was going bad.”

He pointed toward my bike. “Phone’s ringing.”

I turned away. “Probably Cholo. Got three jobs coming up.”

Surprised to see it was Sandy calling, I considered not answering, then swiped my thumb across the screen and raised the phone to my ear. “This is Smokey.”

“Smokey, this is Sandy. We need to uhhm. We need to talk.”

The tone of her voice alone made my asshole pucker. Visions of her telling me I needed to go get a Z-Pak to cure something came to mind.

“Whatever it is, you can say it over the phone.”

“No. We need to talk in person.”

“Anything you need to say can be said over the phone.”

“We need to meet in person, really.”

I hated to be a prick, but I had to. I enjoyed her company too much. If I met her in person, it’d be a matter of minutes and I’d be fucking her – or wanting to, anyway. I knew me well enough to know if I started again, stopping would be impossible.

“Not gonna happen. You can either say what it is you have to say, or I’m going to hang up.”

She sighed into the receiver. “Fine. I hope you’re on stable ground.”

Prepared to learn what strain of disease I needed to prepare to rid myself of, I cocked my head to the side, made eye contact with Crip, and waited.

“I’m pregnant. And, I know what you’re going to ask, so I’ll answer it first. Yes, it’s yours.”

“Hello?”

“Hello?”

“Smoke? Are you there?”

ELEVEN

Sandy

My throat went dry on the way to answer the door. I reached for the knob, paused, and pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth. Satisfied I’d at least be able to say hi, I pressed my eye against the peephole, even though I knew it was him.

A fish-eyed view of his handsome face and broad shoulders caused my stomach to sink. Talking to him wasn’t something I wanted to do, it was something I must. It was what was right.

But it was going to hurt.

I pulled the door open.

He stood in the breezeway with a plastic bag hanging from his left hand, and his right thumb resting against the top of his belt. His mouth slowly curled into a smirk.

I must have stared for longer than I thought, because he cleared his throat and reminded me that I hadn’t invited him in or stepped out of the doorway.

He took half a step back and looked at me. “I might have been confused. You wanted me to come here, right?”

“Uh huh.”