Crack eased back a single step. He still looked like he was ready to wheel around and send his fist into my jaw anytime. I scraped my boot on the concrete, looking at Rabid next to me.
“The boy's right,” Blackjack said, pushing his big beefy body between the Veep and I. “You wanna punch someone in the mouth, I'm right here. It was my call to give the girls a chance instead of burying them. I don't regret making it – especially not when he made such a convincing show out of claiming the older one. Tell me, Brass. Was it worth it, son? You managed to fuck some respect into that * yet, or is she still icing down your nuts?”
Rabid coughed, suppressing a laugh. I looked at the ground and refused to answer the old man. Blackjack was a fuck, but he stuck up for me in his own way, diffusing a situation that easily could've gone sour with the Veep.
Crack was halfway across the garage and almost in the clubhouse when he spun around, pointing at the three of us. “Don't breathe a word about the raid for a couple days. I'll tell the Prez then. No fucking way am I gonna be the asshole who spills his guts and gets Lipstick Night canceled.”
The door slammed behind him. I waited a few seconds, ready to go in after him, but Blackjack reached out and stopped me with a tight squeeze to my forearm.
“Easy, boy. You've been on edge since the night we brought those strays in. Don't let her get to you unless you really mean to make an old lady out of her.” He held my gaze, looking more wizardly than ever with his hair flapping on his cut. “Your choice. If you're not gonna take this thing all the way, then drop the fucking show and have some fun tomorrow. Fuck. Drink. Be merry. Life's shorter than we know.”
What the fuck was I supposed to say to that? It was like he'd given a voice to the whirlwind inside me, beating everything I thought I knew before Missy to tatters. Blackjack tightened his grip – hard enough to pinch my muscles – and then let go all at once.
Rabid followed me inside and we hit the bar together. Suzy the bartender was standing there, a cigarette in her mouth and a blank expression on her face as she watched the TV. The woman was in her late forties, an old lady transplant from Sacramento, property of a dude named Toss. She'd taken on the bartender roll out of boredom, with nothing better to do since Fang ordered everybody and their families north.
Rabid asked for his usual and got a tall glass of whiskey mixed with ginger ale. I never figured out how many shots were in that fucker, but he definitely wouldn't be riding anytime soon.
“What about you?” Suzy asked, her thin lips pulled in a smile.
I shook my head. “Gotta leave with my girl soon. We got family business to take care of with her little sis.”
Rabid laughed and hit the counter. “You gotta be shitting me. You, Brass, a family man? Since fucking when?”
“Since I decided I didn't want to end up in the shed with the Mauler if these girls fucked us over. I gotta keep 'em happy and outta trouble too.”
“Come on, man. One fucking beer. Shit, when you showed up here, you went on runs with something a lot more potent than Jack flowing in your veins.”
Ignoring the grim reminder, I looked at Suzy and ordered a tall one, then took my seat next to Rabid. Fucker was the only brother in this place except Blackjack who'd get away with talking about my sins without a fist to the face.
“Those days are behind me, and you know it. I'm staying clean for the club. This fucking shit with the cartel's getting serious. We slack off drunk too many nights with our hands on our dicks, we'll all wake up one day burned to a crisp, or else having our heads chopped off.”
Rabid laughed, making a goofy ass line across his neck with one finger. Just my luck that I related to this club's lame fucking joker best, while all the more serious brothers were so dark and mercenary they made me want to rip their heads off and do the world a favor.
“It's almost like you care,” he said, narrowing his eyes as he sipped his drink. “What's going on, Brass? You trying to undo the shit with your own family looking after these chicks?”
My hand balled in a fist. Okay, I definitely would've laid his ass out if he were anyone but Rabid. I settled for twisting the seat and stabbing my finger into his chest, holding it there while I told him exactly what the fuck was going on.