I know he likes to gamble. There is nothing the man likes more than placing a large bet. He always liked dog fights, but I don’t know of any place here in the city that does something like that.
“Alicia?” Quin’s gentle whisper infiltrates my thoughts and brings me back to the present.
“Sorry, just thinking. I don’t know much about Vince. He wasn’t around a lot. I know he had money problems, still does. He loves gambling and dog fights.”
“Dog fights! No!” Kimmy immediately begins to cry, loudly. Big alligator tears drip down her reddening face and she climbs on Quin’s lap, burying her face in his shoulder.
He winces from the pain but doesn’t complain about it.
“We have to save the doggies,” Kimmy sniffles, rubbing her snotty nose across his shoulder.
His bare shoulder.
Kids are gross.
Colt turns around to give us his back, his shoulders shaking.
“Colt, are you… crying?”
“No. I’m allergic to tragedy, that’s all. And… dog fights are really, you know, tragic.”
Violet and her sisters giggle, but Kimmy climbs off Quin’s lap and rushes over to Colt, wrapping her arms around his legs to give him a hug.
“We will save the doggies together, Uncle Colt.”
He peers down at her and smiles, his cheeks wet.
I guess I know what Colt’s weakness is.
“Colt, pull yourself together.”
“I lost my dog Mr. Pickles to a dog fight. Someone dognapped him from me when I was ten. I found him dead, torn to bits on the side of the road. I’m sorry if I can’t just pull myself together.” Colt stomps out of the room after he mouths off to Boomer, slamming the front door on his way out.
“Mr. Pickles,” Kansas mutters under his breath in disbelief. “What are the chances of that?”
“Can we focus? I can’t even remember what we were talking about now,” Boomer gripes irritably.
“You were trying to figure out where this asshole was so we could kill him,” Homer chimes in out of nowhere.
“I’m surprised you could hear our conversation with your old age.” Arrow doesn’t look up as he carves another arrow.
“I can hear better than you can. All those juice boxes have probably lowered your IQ. I wouldn’t be surprised if you can’t understand what’s going on.”
“Better watch it, old man. Don’t talk too loud. You’ll shatter all the bones in your brittle body.” Arrow drops his knife and begins to sharpen the point of his new weapon.
“I can’t stand you.”
“The feeling is mutual,” Arrow agrees.
“Will everyone just shut up!” The vein in Boomer’s forehead protrudes as he looks around the room. “It’s so sad about the dogs. Yes, I’ll make sure we do something about that. Homer, Arrow, no talking to each other for a week. I do not have the patience for your shit right now. Alicia,” he says my name next, and I straighten my back, feeling like I need to give him my full attention or maybe I’ll be tossed in the ocean next. “You and One-Eye stay here. Kansas, find Colt and go to the casino, see if you can’t find him. Warden, Bane, and Carson, go looking in the shadier parts of town, keep your ears to the ground about dog fights. I’ll call O’Crowely and ask about any one-percenters in his area. If Vince is as bad as you say, it’s the only kind of club he will belong to.”
“What’s a one-percenter?” I ask.
“A rogue MC,” explains Quin. “If ninety-nine percent of MCs are good, the one-percenters are the ones that the rest of us a bad name. They commit violent crimes and don’t follow the law.”
“You don’t follow the law,” I point out.
“That’s… different,” Boomer admits. “We don’t terrorize the public. When we break the law, we do it to help innocent people. We’d never tolerate a man like Vince in this club.”
“How will we know it’s him?” Warden asks.
“He looks a lot like his brother,” I explain. “He’s wearing a cut. It says New York City on it. I’m sorry, that’s all I have, but if you remember his brother, you should be able to spot him if he is there.”
“We’ll keep you updated,” Warden and Bane say at the same time.
Kansas gets up and grabs his keys off the hook. “I’ll go find Colt. He’s probably sitting on the beach crying his eyes out. I didn’t know he was so… emotional.”
Boomer stops Kansas when he gets to the door. “And take Wolf. I feel like he isn’t getting out much lately.”
Kansas gives a curt nod, swinging his keys around his fingers before heading out the door.
“What can I do?” Homer asks.
“Maybe go to a nursing home,” Arrow mumbles.
“That’s it. You. You’re going with Kansas. Homer, you’re going with Warden and Bane. Annoy them. I’m fucking done with the both of you,” Boomer points to the door.
“Fine,” Arrow and Homer stand up and say in unison.
They mean mug one another and Boomer drops his head in his hands before he stands and angrily marches to the door to open it. “You go. Now.”
Arrow leaves without a parting glance.
Homer goes to leave and Boomer holds up his hand and counts to ten. “Now you can go. You better ride with someone though. So help me, if I get a single complaint about you two, I’m shoving fucking poppers in your mouths.”
“I have dentures. Won’t bother me none,” Homer sasses as he shuffles into the breezeway.
Boomer slams the door behind them and locks all three deadbolts, then sags against it. “Would it be wrong to stab the juice boxes out of spite?”
My cheeks plump when my lips spread as I laugh, but the cut on my lip ruins the moment.
“I’m going to my office to make some calls. Violet will be around, but she has to get her sisters situated for school tomorrow. She’s helping Ronni with her senior exit project one last time before she presents it.”
“We’ll be alright,” Quin says, his eye falling to Kimmy who is asleep on the floor. “Hey, Prez, can you—”
Boomer notices where Quin is looking and nods, a flash of envy pinching his features. “I got her. I’ll move her to the hospital bed you were just in. She’s sleeping a lot lately. Must be so tired from holding onto you so tight up there on the Ferris Wheel. Poor thing.” Boomer slips his arms under her, and she mumbles something about Mr. Pickles, a dog she has never met. “I’ll never hear the end about saving the dogs, will I?”
“Not a chance,” I reply, dropping the ice pack on the cushion next to me when my lip officially feels numb.
Boomer disappears down the hall, leaving me and Quin alone.
“So,” I begin. “Date race, huh?”
He groans in embarrassment. “She found a speed dating flier I found. She asked about it and I said it was people racing dates.”
“The fruit?” I burst out laughing.
“I didn’t know what else to say. I’m not going.”
“Why not?”
He squeezes my hand. “Come on, Mama. You know why.”
We begin to inch our faces closer to one another and I lick my lips, my eyes dropping to his mouth. “Maybe I just want you to say it.”