I take it to mean no and walk over to prospect Whitey, they normally hang together when he’s here.
“’Sup, Bear, what can I getcha’?” His strong southern accent is more prominent when he’s had a drink.
I cross my arms and lean against the bar. “Nothing strong, I’ve got work tomorrow.” He slides me a beer.
“You seen Jacques today?” I ask, taking a swig of beer, tasting the bitter liquid as it swirls around my mouth.
He takes a pull of his own. “Nah, haven’t seen him since he took off last night saying he had business to take care of.”
My brow furrows. Business to take care of? “And he didn’t tell you where he went or what for?”
“Hell nah, I thought it was club business, you know I can’t ask about that shit,” he drawls.
He has a point, but the whole situation puts me on edge.
“He was talking to that new broad before he left.” He tilts his beer at the girl who just walked in. “Maybe he said somethin’ to her?”
It’s the young girl from yesterday and I down the rest of my beer before making a beeline toward her. She clocks me walking over and I see her visibly tense up as she rakes her eyes over my tight black t-shirt and black jeans.
“You know my brother, Jacques, right?” I ask, looking her in the eyes.
Her walls come up and she stands up straighter as Jojo comes over and throws his arms around her shoulders.
“Got a problem here, Bear?” He asks, raising a brow at me in question.
I chuckle and raise my hands up. “Not at all, I was just asking…” I realize I don’t know her name.
“Poppy.”
“Right, I was just asking Poppy here if she knew my brother,” I say in way of explanation.
He looks down at her and she shakes her head no.
“There you go, says she doesn’t, you can move along now,” he counters, dismissing me.
I stand my ground. “Now hold on a minute, I wasn’t trying to sleep with her. I just wanted to know if she’s seen him today.”
Jojo lets go of her shoulder and moves to step in front of her, but she puts her hand on his chest. “Dad, he’s only asking a question, go on and sit down before you give yourself a heart attack.”
His face turns beet red but he gives me a warning stare before shuffling back off to his table.
“Sorry about him, he’s still getting used to the idea that I chose the club.” She gives me a stiff smile.
“Don’t worry about it, so have you?” I ask, already getting tired of this charade.
It takes her a moment to catch on. “Oh, Jacques. Not since last night when he gave me a ride home.” She blushes but hides it quickly.
“Shit,” I say out loud and she flinches. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Her face turns to worry and she starts biting her bottom lip while looking behind me. I turn my head and realize she’s staring at Smokey and he’s burning a hole right back into her, only his face looks a little menacing. I chuckle, I guess she turned him down.
“Well, thanks anyway, Poppy. Word of advice? Stay away from Kirby and Marshall.” I point out the two letches snorting coke off some broads rack.
“Err, thanks… I guess,” she stammers and I walk away wondering why in the hell I just said that.
I take a shower and curse at myself as I think about Jacques. Why haven’t I just called or text him? I pull out my cell and scroll through my contacts but can’t find him under Jacky Boy, so I keep scrolling.
Shit hot brother
I snort, he’s been on my cell again. Shaking my head, I press the call button but it just rings out. I hit end call and type out a text to him.
Shit hot brother? Really, Jacques? Shit-for-brains more like, you’re a big boy now but a text to let pop know you weren’t coming home wouldn’t go amiss. Where the fuck are you?
I throw it next to me on my bed and flip through the channels on the old TV set in the corner of the room. I sigh when nothing comes up and decide to go shoot some pool in the common area. Reaching for some sweatpants, I throw them on, pull a black t-shirt over my head, pocket my cell and head out the door. My eyes widen as I enter the common area, we need to start setting some boundaries.
I turn around the way I came and stride off toward Pres’ office. When I get there, I bang on it with my fist until he swings it open.
“What?” He grinds out, clearly annoyed by my persistent knocking but I don’t give a shit.
“We gotta talk about the shit that’s going on in the common area. This is a clubhouse, not a brothel. And since when has it been okay for the brother’s to snort half our shipment?” I ask, trying to tamp down my temper.
His brow quirks up as a smirk graces his face and he walks out toward the common area. He leans against the wall and watches as drugs are passed around everywhere and Smokey has Ella, one of his favorite club broads, up against the bar giving us all a show.