twenty-four hours to figure shit out.
King and Frost both stared at me. They didn’t even have to say anything. I needed to spill the beans now, or shit was just going to be even harder for me.
“Royal is pregnant,” I blurted out. “Her ex is Rider Meeks, whose dad is Biff Meeks, who happens to be a pretty bad guy. She broke up with Rider. Then, she told him she was pregnant. Now, she is missing. I found this all out last night when Grit managed to catch me out in the backyard.”
“And who the fuck is Grit?” Frost growled. His lips pressed into a thin line, and he was not looking happy. Not at all.
I cleared my throat. Might as well just keep going with the bad news train I was riding on. “Grit is Royal’s brother.” My eyes dropped to the floor. “And my ex.”
*
Chapter Six
Frost
I leaned back in my chair and studied the asshole sitting across from me.
This was the type of guy Indiana was interested in?
I mean, there wasn’t anything wrong with him per se, but he just looked like a fucking prick.
With his black hair slicked back and a nose that appeared like it had been broken more than a couple of times, he looked like a sleazeball. His clothes were clean and decent, just jeans and a shirt, but again, there was just something about him that didn’t sit right with me.
Maybe it was the fact that he was Indiana’s ex, and he possibly knew her better than I did. Or ever would.
Indiana sat next to me, with King at the head of the table.
We were in church, and for the first time—other than when Meg or Mom would barge their way into church—there were people at the table who weren’t part of the club.
Dad sat on one side of King with Rigid on the other side of him. The OG’s always had the head of the table with the rest of us falling in after.
Even though I was Demon’s kid, I didn’t get any special treatment. Hell, none of us did. If anything, we all had to work twice as hard to get any respect around here. That was the main reason I was such a stick-in-the-mud like Zig and Zag said. Sure as shit, I would like to let loose like my brothers did, but I craved the respect of the club more.
“I swear to God, we’ve all been teleported to twenty years ago,” Rigid laughed. “I still remember the first time Meg and the girls barged in on church.”
“They still fucking barge into church,” Dad complained.
“Yeah,” King agreed. “Though we’ve gotten used to it.”
“That’s because they’ve learned to come in with food to help soften the blow,” Dad laughed.
Rigid pointed at Indiana. “You bring some cookies or brownies in here with you, little girl?”
Indiana cleared her throat. “Uh, no, but I know how to bake. I’ll remember to bring some next time.”
“Hopefully, there won’t be a next time,” King drawled. He grabbed the gavel and slammed it down on the table. “Let’s get this shitshow on the road.”
Indiana jumped when the gavel connected with the table and leaned toward me. “Jesus,” she whispered.
“You’ll get used to it,” Zag called. “King likes to swing his gavel around like King Kong.”
“What?” Easy laughed. “When did King Kong have a gavel?”
“It’s a simile,” Zag drawled.
Rigid cocked his head to the side. “What?”
“Metaphor?” Zig asked. “I think you meant metaphor.”
Zag waved his hand. “Sure, whatever. That’s what I meant.”
Indiana and Grit both sat quietly, listening to Zig and Zag trying to figure out what the hell they were talking about.
“Is that like an adverb?” Snapper asked.
I turned to Snapper. “Did you end up failing English?” I asked.
Snapper shrugged. “I passed.”
“Barely,” Easy coughed.
“Do I really need to know what a fucking adverb, noun, and prenoun are?” Snapper snapped.
“Pronoun,” Easy muttered. “I think you mean pronoun.”
King smacked the gavel on the table a second time, and Indiana jumped again.
“Enough with the fucking English lesson,” he boomed. “Do you assholes think we can, for once, have a meeting where we don’t go off on some fucking tangent? Worse than a bunch of fucking women yapping your heads off.”
“Tangent. Good word,” Easy called.
King pointed the gavel at him. “You want me to use this fucker upside your head next time?”
Easy held up his hands. “Sorry, bossman.”
Indiana watched the exchange back and forth with her mouth open and her eyes bugged out.
“Let’s get on with the Meeks bullshit,” Dad suggested.