When he looked crushed, I was crushed too. “Well, there isn’t a dentist in Avalanche, so far. But by ‘we’ I mean us. The motorcycle gang.”
“What?” I bawled. “Deloy, you told me you drive a Prius! You ride one up on Dingo’s Harley and suddenly you’re a member of the club?”
“Well, not hardly. But they’ve already taken me under their wing.”
“They have?”
Deloy looked proud. “After the school, we stopped in at a bar called The High Dive downtown and had a drink.”
“You did?” I was feeling angry and more than a little left out. Why wasn’t I invited to have a drink? My sister’s old man was actually the President of the Assassins of Youth. I should be invited. And I was dying for a drink.
“And you wouldn’t believe it, but this giant, hulking, red-haired man came in wearing a bloody butcher’s apron. He looked like he was a Marine or a member of the Special Ops. Dingo knew him and started playing darts with him. Well! Turns out it was the infamous Sledgehammer, he owns the grocery around the corner on Watchtower Street, and he said he’d give me a job checking groceries!”
My jaw hung open. Deloy had accomplished all this in a day and a half, and all I’d done was fume over some worthless Italian playboy. “I…” was all I could say.
“Isn’t that amazing? Sledgehammer said he’d work around my dental school hours—classes start right after Christmas—and I can have all the cut-rate meat and groceries I want! Meanwhile, Gideon’s taking me to the shooting range to teach me how to use a gun, and—”
“What? Wait a minute. What? Deloy, why do you need to use a gun?”
He looked taken aback. “Well—uh—because. Because that’s what guys do when they join a motorcycle gang.”
“Oh, that’s just it!” I stalked to the back plate glass windows and whipped my phone from my pocket. “You spend one day with these guys and you automatically think you’re joining their club? Deloy, I’ve got news for you! These guys are nothing but common thugs.”
“Your brother-in-law is the President, Oaklyn.”
“I don’t care! Listen, can you honestly see yourself riding motorcycles around with these guys? Running guns and drugs and whatever else they do that they need money laundering outlets for? You’re going from the frying pan into the fire, Deloy! Why do you want to go from an abusive control freak who uses you to another abusive control freak who uses you?”
It was Deloy’s turn to drop his jaw. “Oaklyn. This is your brother-in-law you’re talking about. And I never agreed that Levon Rockwell used me! Of course he took a small percentage off my take. That’s his right as my protector and the guy who pays the mortgage and the property taxes. And who said anything about abusive? Not only did Levon never hit me, he never once even yelled at me. He, of all people, knows how it feels to be on the receiving end of a beating. He’d never stand for that happening to any of his Lost Boys.”
I was speechless. You know those moments when all evidence points to the fact that you’ve been a complete and utter dork about something? But it takes some time for it to sink in? Admitting you’ve been wrong is the hardest thing in the world. For me, anyway. So I just said, “Well, maybe. I wouldn’t know about that. But do you know what those motorcycle guys do?”
He shrugged. “Not really. Dingo said they have meetings—called ‘chapel’—in the back room of The High Dive, and they figure out who’s going to do what.”
I pointed at Deloy with my phone. “Right! Like who’s going to accompany the truck full of guns from Mexico, or who’s going to stand guard while they rob a bank.”
Deloy screwed up his face. “Rob a bank? Who said anything about—”
I brandished my phone dramatically. “I’m getting to the bottom of this, Deloy. I’m not letting you get into any trouble right when your life is finally getting on the right track.” I went onto the deck to text Mahalia.
Did you hear? Deloy’s planning to join Gideon’s stupid club? He even called it a “gang.” Let’s meet for a drink at The High Dive.