“Well, that’s the part I’m unaware of. Mia’s asleep. I reached out to Brody, no answer, but he has the thing.”
Damn, the thing. Meeting the McFarlands on the east coast with the latest shipment is “the thing.”
“So, I called Erika—”
“Why her?”
“Alright, here’s the long story.” He huffs. “I just played the fucking secretary, Leith. James is on an East-coast run. You and Knox bump heads like crazy. Firth laughed when I mentioned your name, said something about midges.”
“He started it,” I retort, tapping the back of my head softly on the door again.
“Yeah, well, too far, bro, too fuckin far. We’ve a lot of cousins, but I stopped while I was ahead. Which brings me to another vital matter, FY fucking I, I have people to handle my shit, Leith. I’ve never worked this hard to make money for me—because I delegate. That’s a new term for you. Place it in your schema, learn it. Delegate, bitch.”
“Camdyn, ye hang up, I’ll really kill ya,” I warn. With ears perked, I can still hear the numpty lad begging his way back into the house.
My brathair huffs. “Shit, those were good concluding remarks, if I do say so myself.”
I roll my eyes. “So, Erika?”
He exhales deeply. “Again, another botched attempt since I’m riding solo. Long story short, Erika was driving like crazy to get here before Chevelle left and got stopped by the cops down the road. But Chevelle’s having a girls’ night; she seemed confident. I’m positive she’s safe.” I shake my head and hang up on my little brathair.
The shouting across the hall stops. The door closes, but I stay put, dialing my wife.
“Hey, baby,” Chevelle slurs into the phone.
“Hen, where are ye?”
“Hold on.” She sighs then argues for Michie to check on his new bartender. Another familiar voice is in the background. I presume it’s Justice who’s complaining about some bartender still needing a jigger to measure alcohol.
“Hen, get back on the phone,” I grit in a lowered voice.
“Sorry.”
Eyes sweeping across the deid feck’s living room, I inquire, “Who's driving ye home, hen?”
“Not Justice.” She chuckles. “Leith, I’m drunk, not that damn drunk. Actually, I’m good drunk if you want me to FaceTime you. Unless you’re already enjoying Mable’s company.”
“Chevelle, I need ye to go back inside of Michie’s until Erika—”
“Erika,” she sneers. “Okay, so I was joking. Now, you’re joking?”
“Nae, I’m serious. Get yer arse back into the bar until Erika or Brody or Knox or any feckin’ body whose last name is MacKenzie comes to pick ye and Justice up. Okay!?”
“Babe, calm down,” she purrs softly. “Justice and I are highly sophisticated winos. We’re sharing an Uber. It’s right across the—”
Venom shoots through my veins as Chevelle shrieks.
“Hen? Chevelle!” I shout into the receiver at the top of my lungs. All my shouting is futile as I hear the cell phone crash onto a hard surface. The call goes dead.
Chapter 24
Chevelle
Minutes ago, Justice and I sauntered out of the bar, contentedly going through the motions. The stale Long Beach seaweed air shoves itself down my lungs as I scream, stomping my feet.
“What?” Justice clings to her purse.
“It was a rat!” I remember when Lady and I downgraded from a luxurious apartment with a doorman in Los Angeles to the projects. Our neighbor let his python loose, and not a sexual reference, to help Lady catch mice. There were so many places I could’ve gone instead of living with her. But the freedom of not contemplating my father or mother was and still is a deciding factor.
“A rat? Damn, girl.” She places the butt of a gun back into her bag. “I don’t have a permit for this.”
At the doorway, Michie laughs, watching me reach down to pick up my cell phone. “I would give the two of you a ride home, but you talked too much shit about the new guy. If he doesn’t come back tomorrow, I’m gonna. . . .” He runs a sharp hand past his throat, lips in a tense snarl.
Justice grunts. “Oh, shut up, Michie. You love to threaten.”
“Is a threat the extent of what I do?” He cocks a brow.
I glower at my cracked cell phone and almost have an itch to pitch it at his handsome face.
“How much you paying that guy?” Justice asks. “Fresh out of bartending school or did he—”
“Oye, Chevelle was fresh behind the ears when I gave her a chance.” Michie points a stiff finger at me.