Brady slammed the car door shut and waved for Smokey to follow him. “It looked like you and Gavin were having a conversation. That’s huge.”
“Yeah, he’s a good kid. What’s going on with his mom?”
“She’s still in rehab. I have little hope that she’ll stay clean. She’s been through this many times.”
“Does Gavin get along with her?”
“Who knows? He’s not real open with his feelings. Most of the residents have problematic relationships with their parents. I just try to keep them safe and in school.” Brady opened the building’s back door and gestured for Smokey to go through. “What’s going on with you?”
“Busy as hell. I could use some help on a couple of my construction projects. I thought I’d ask Gavin if he wanted to make some extra money.” Smokey turned into the director’s office, and plopped down into the chair in front of Brady’s desk. “Would you have a problem with that?”
“No. I think it would be good for him. It’d also get him away from some of the teasing Little Ricky and Five Dime have been laying on him.”
“Yeah. Little Ricky started that shit up when I was with them in the smoking corner.” Leaning back, he rested his ankle on his knee. “It seems like Gavin’s got a crush on some volunteer.”
“It appears so. I’ve talked to the boys about giving it a rest, but you know how useless that is.”
“Little Ricky told me her name is Ashley. Does she have a last name?” For a split second, he saw malice in Brady’s eyes, but then it was gone.
“Callahan,” he replied quickly.
I knew it. I never would’ve pictured her helping out in a homeless shelter. There’s gotta be a reason for it.
“Why are you asking?”
There was an edge to Brady’s voice that puzzled him. “I was curious. Turns out, she’s working on a project for my company.” Did Brady’s jaw just tighten? Fuck, he’s got the hots for her.
“That’s interesting.”
He put his hands behind his head, interlocking his fingers as he fixed Brady with a glare. “It is.”
“What does that mean?” he asked, picking up a pen.
Smokey noticed how tightly he gripped it. So tight, in fact, his knuckles turned white. “She’s a smart woman with great marketing insight. How long has she been volunteering at the shelter?”
“A few weeks.”
“She’d be great in mapping out a marketing campaign for the summer fundraiser.”
Brady let the pen drop to the desk, the tenseness in his face dissipating. “That’s a good idea. I’ll talk to her about it.”
Over dinner, I bet. A stab of jealousy hit him hard, catching him off guard.
“I’ll have to make a note to call her tonight,” Brady continued.
Another unpleasant pang shot through Smokey as he wondered if Ashley had been going out with the director. As if jolted by an electric shock, he jumped up from the chair.
“I’ll see ya.” Without waiting for Brady’s reply, he walked out of the office and straight to the parking lot.
Mounting his Harley, he fired up the engine and peeled out of the lot.
He headed out of town, loving the feel of the road beneath him. Cool wind whipped against the back of his jacket as the sun warmed his face. Following the swells of the road, he passed pine trees and shrubs as he increased the bike’s speed until he hit that place where he felt weightless—like flying—and the rage inside him dissolved. Riding always cleared his mind; he couldn’t imagine not being on a motorcycle. Riding was in his blood—it was his life.
For the next two hours, Smokey rode on narrow roads around canyons, valleys, and streams before heading back to the clubhouse.
When he walked into the main room, he saw Rags and Klutch sipping on beers between shots at the pool table. Cruiser was enjoying a blow job from Tania, while Jax, Chas, Shadow, and Gopher engaged in a conversation at the bar.
“Smokey,” someone called out.
He looked over at a table where Tank was sitting on a chair with Kristy on his lap, his heavily tattooed arms wrapped around her. Kristy had been with the Insurgents the longest of all the club girls. She’d become part of the club fabric when she was only nineteen years old, and fifteen years later, she still held the record among the club women for giving the best blow jobs. Two years before, the Insurgents had given her a room of her own, which made the other girls, particularly Lola and Brandi, madder than hell, but they