“Why ‘hmm’?” I asked.
“Surprised he came all this way, but I suppose it’s professional courtesy to invite him.”
Lacy stopped mixing whatever it was in her bowl. “Oh, hell. That guy is here?” She shivered.
“Why, who is he?” I asked, grabbing a celery stick and dipping it into Mama Hen’s homemade ranch dip.
“He’s, like, a boss,” Lacy practically whispered.
“A boss of what?” I asked, crunching my celery.
Mama Hen’s eyes cut to Lacy, and she promptly zipped her lips and went back to stirring.
“Boss?” I said again. Then it hit me. “You mean like a mob boss?”
Lacy shushed at me but I whipped my head toward the door. “So you mean there’s a goodfellow outside? That’s crazy!”
“Shivana,” Mama Hen snapped.
My giddiness dissipated. “Sorry. But how the hell do we even know him? Is there, ya know, a mob in Atlanta?” I never thought about organized crime outside of the obvious places like New York and Chicago. We had plenty back home, but it was all speculation, of course.
“He’s a business partner and they’re from up north. Just be polite or avoid him if possible. Was there an older man with him?” Mama Hen asked.
“Not that I saw, but he traveled with an entourage. I guess it makes sense now.”
“Like I said, Shiv, best to just steer clear if you can.”
Lacy nodded from behind her. I needed that story, because I knew there had to be one.
Chapter 42
Shivana
We finished prepping the food and headed outside to a full lot. We spent the next few hours making sure the guys didn’t burn the meat, keeping the drinks flowing, and socializing. The men outnumbered women by a long shot, but the bunnies did their best to mingle with anyone without a woman glued to their side.
It seemed that all the women who traveled here were Old Ladies. Some were really fun and nice, some looked like they could rip my eyes out. I did my best to steer clear of Petrov, but he seemed like a salesman or a politician from what I could tell. Very handsome in a high-end kind of way; nice bright smile, and everyone seemed to respect him. He carried on conversations with men from all the chapters, but Hawk seemed to stay close.
Jackal ate with me but went to mingle with the other chapters afterwards. He did a few drive-bys to check on me, though.
When the men all seemed preoccupied and everyone was deepinto the kegs, I finally asked Lacy to tell me about Petrov.
Daisy rolled her eyes and cut in first. “Gives me the creeps. But he’s some big, important guy. Like, mafia stuff.”
Lacy scrunched her face. “Shh, don’t be so loud.”
I looked around, but nobody seemed to notice we were even there. “Why, nobody is paying attention to us. Why did you shudder at his name earlier?”
Lacy looked around, then when she confirmed the coast was clear, she quietly said, “We rode to Jersey with this guy, Lynx–”
“The guy with the black eyes?” I asked. Not black irises, the man’s eyes were black, no whites to be seen. It was fascinating.
“Yep,” Daisy said. “He’s really nice, though. Looks tough as nails, but I peg him for a teddy bear.”
He was easily 250 pounds and solid as steel with tattoos all over him. Well, where I could see, so I could only assume they covered everything. “Teddy bear. Okay. Not the word I would use to describe him, but I’ll take your word for it.”
“Anyway,” Lacy said, “he drove us to Jersey because Falcon had an incident there.”
“He was shot by a hooker,” Daisy said before taking a long swig of beer.