Page 118 of Beyond the Badge: Crew

“Since I have the kids this weekend, I want to take them on a little club run on Sunday with everyone who has kids. I’ll haul Chloé on my bike and Nox agreed to take Dylan. Can you arrange something and get the word out? See if Cross wants to bring his twins and Jamison his twins and if they all want to go, we can have the childless members like you help out. I figured it would be fun. And, get this, Nox even suggested stopping for ice cream.”

“No shit,” Decker murmured from his spot at one of the computers.

“Yeah, no shit,” Crew echoed. “You want to bring Val?”

“Yeah, she’d love it and she’ll also be thrilled to hang out with the big kids.”

“As long as they’re not all pouting for being forced to go,” Crew told him. He turned back to Finn. “See who wants to participate and make sure we have enough seats for them all.”

Finn’s brow dropped low. “How the fuck did I get stuck with doing this when it’s your idea?”

“Last I checked, the damn patch on your cut states you’re the road captain. You planning on tearing off that patch anytime soon?”

“For fuck’s sake, I should,” Finn grumbled and shook his head. “I’ll send out a mass text and see who’s available and how many want to go.”

“Don’t strain your fingers doing it.”

“Finger,” Rez corrected Crew. “He hunts and pecks when he types his texts.”

“And you fat-finger yours,” Finn countered. “Half the time I don’t know if your text is in Spanish or English.”

“It’s Spanglish.”

“What does ‘typo’ mean in Spanglish?” Finn asked.

Rez came back with, “It means yo momma.”

Crew shook his head. “Hey, can we graduate from kindergarten to the first grade now?”

“Yeah, because you always act mature,” Decker said from his desk. “Anyway, just do it, Finn. For Nox.”

“I already have a run scheduled for two weekends from now.”

“Like another one is going to hurt. Or can’t you afford gas for that machine of yours since you’re penny-pinching for Mel’s new club?” Decker asked.

“I can afford gas just fine with all the wages the feds are paying me for this assignment,” Finn answered.

Laughter filled the room.

“Yeah, I’m going to buy a Lamborghini with my federal paycheck,” Reynolds said dryly from the far corner.

“Better buy a Hot Wheels track for it, too,” Torres suggested.

“Anyway, get it done,” Crew told the road captain.

“When did you get to be president? You don’t even sit on the damn committee,” Finn complained.

“Since Jamison isn’t around right now and Fletch is buried deep within the DAMC, I’m acting president.”

Finn huffed out, “Bullshit. It only works like that in your imagination. That’s not what the bylaws say.”

“Like you’ve read the bylaws,” Crew scoffed. “Anyway, let’s get back to the reason we’re all on this task force. Let’s start with the simple shit since it can’t get any more simple than T-Bag. Has anyone heard any chatter about that prospect?”

“Nope. Nothing,” Torres answered. “He just disappeared like a fart.”

“Since we dropped hints about him skimming from their meth supply, the Demons probably stripped the prospect of his cut,” Rez surmised.

Decker grinned. “Or made him magically disappear.”

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