Page 39 of Abel

“If that’s so true, why haven’t you been out with us like normal?”

“I’ve been out.”

“Yeah, just to show your face and then you split after like five minutes or go hide out in the back.”

“More like ten, but who’s keeping tabs.” I say, heading for the door.

“We’ve all noticed, it’s just that the others are too chicken shit to say anything.” He says loud enough for them to hear, following close behind me. “But I’m your one true friend, and I’ll be damned if I don’t tell you how much of a dick move it is for you not to try and find this girl. We all know the one you banged in the bathroom a few weeks ago.” He snickers, running off before I can reach out and try to snatch his ass.

“Shut your fucking mouth, Capone.” I yell, missing him by an inch.

“Nope! You should go find her. We’re all tired of you sulking around here and there looking like you lost your best friend.” He says, running from the room with Knuckles hot on his trail.

“Don’t worry about him, he’ll get a just punishment for that.” Ironclad says, trying to contain his own laughter.

“Okay, you too, huh?” Ironclad only snickers more. “I’m fucking outta here.”“Don’t forget Sunday dinner tomorrow or Foxy will have our asses.” He yells to my retreating back.

There’s no way I’d miss Sunday dinner. It’s when we all get together for a day of good eating and spending time with the family.

Every Sunday, we take turns cooking the meals. This week, it’s the ol' ladies turn to cook while we’re in charge of planning the fun. It’s a Sunday tradition nobody’s gonna break.

Clive started it, so we’ll be damn sure to keep it up in his honor.

I’ll have to make sure Capone invites Emily. She’s a part of this family now, so it’s only right she joins in. Pulling out my phone, I shoot her a quick text too, pocketing my phone without waiting for her reply.

Since it’s still early in the day, I’m going to spend it cleaning my bike and maybe taking a ride later to clear my head.

The guys with all their questions and observations are wearing on my last fucking nerve. I’m not hung up on some woman I had one great night with.

The best damn night since Courtney.

Better actually.

I loved her vulnerability, the way she let me guide her, the fucking way she felt.

My God, she felt amazing.

I haven’t been able to fuck anyone who isn’t her, and that’s a fucking problem.

Getting a woman isn’t, it’s getting them in bed, trying to fuck them, and seeing her face instead. I’ve been slapped more times in the last two weeks than I ever have in all my life.

“Get a fucking grip, Abel.” Chasting myself seems to work. I say my goodbyes, hop on my bike, and head home.

Hours after I finish cleaning my bike, I decide to take a ride to the club, just to check on things.

Cruising downtown, seeing a few different businesses come to life as the night falls has me thinking.

There are no gun or pawn shops anywhere in sight. Everywhere you turn is a bootleg corner store, a mom and pop shop, or a gym. I know this isn’t an uppity neighborhood, and it’s overrun with people that don’t need to be out in these streets, but those are two places that can bring in a lot of revenue as well as give folks in need of jobs one.

Those are two establishments that will provide a little something for everyone, especially with the crime rate going up like it is.

The Anarchy Saints can definitely turn this part of town upside down and reap the benefits it’ll sow.

Who knows, pretty soon, I’ll start looking for a place to open up shop here.

Passing up a few good opportunities on my stroll out, I see some vacant locations that have potential.

I see it, I want it, and I’ll take it if I have to.

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