Page 38 of Blackbeard
“Okay, okay, hold on a second,” Big G relented. “I called because Hot Shot needs a hand cleaning up his garage, making minor repairs, things like that. Half of his mechanics quit after the shootout, so he’s short staffed. Baby Doll and Gatling ordered building supplies for the bigger fixes—new windows, sheet metal—but they haven’t been shipped yet. So, we’re only covering the basics for now.”
I patted Bodhi’s hand dry with a paper towel and began threading my needle. Bodhi grimaced with dread. Mario pulled up a chair and gestured for him to sit. They might bicker and tease each other relentlessly, but Abuela had impressed on them at a young age how important it was to look after your family, and they took that message to heart.
“Say when and I’ll be there,” I said.
“We’re eating first and hoping to start work by noon today. Tex is bringing breakfast. Credence has ice and drinks covered. We’re turning it into an unofficial party.”
“Fine by me. On one condition.”
“Name your price,” Big G replied.
I glanced at Mario and Bodhi, watching me expectantly. Every bone in my body ached to protect them, defend them. I couldn’t fight their battles for them though. And I couldn’t stomach the thought of forcing them to get back on that bus.
“Bring the cage around to my place. My nephews need a ride to school.”
Mario and Bodhi stared at me in shock. Then Mario grabbed Bodhi’s shoulders, shaking him with excitement. Bodhi fist pumped with his good hand.
“Sure thing,” Big G said. “Should I bring along spare cuts to deck them out in Blackjack colors too?”
I chuckled, picturing how cool Mario and Bodhi would feel, showing up to school in the Blackjack van, wearing biker cuts, with Big G behind the wheel—tattoo sleeves, salt-and-pepper hair and beard, a slick-looking bastard who turned heads everywhere he went.
It might make those bullies think twice about picking on my nephew.
Sure, I could drive Mario and Bodhi to school in my truck and make my presence known when I dropped them off. Letting everyone see that my nephews had a cool uncle to back them up.
But riding with Big G, wearing Blackjack cuts, marked them as rebels. It sent the message that these boys ran with a tough crowd of bikers. In my experience, people gave you a wide berth after that.
“Sounds perfect,” I said.
“No problem. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
As soon as I hung up, Mario and Bodhi couldn’t contain their excitement anymore. They let out whoops of delight that echoed in the kitchen.
“Quiet down,” I said with a laugh. “You’ll wake the neighbors. And Leigh. It’s early. She’s still sleeping.”
They exchanged a look between them. Bodhi chewed the inside of his cheek. Mario elbowed him in the ribs, snickering. Bodhi swatted him with a hiss.
I shook my head and lightly grasped Bodhi’s hand, beginning to stitch up the cut in his palm. He sucked in a sharp breath at the first pierce of the needle.
“Is there something else you boys need to tell me?” I demanded.
Mario shrugged.
“We were just…well, Abuela won’t stop talking about your wife. And Bodhi is jealous that you married a redhead.”
Bodhi squawked in protest.
“Pendejo! That was supposed to be a secret! I’m never telling you anything ever again.”
I pressed my lips together to stop myself from laughing, focused on my task of creating one neat, tidy stitch after another. At least Bodhi’s indignation kept him distracted. And I didn’t blame him for his attraction to redheads.
“Now I understand why you stopped by,” I said. “Getting stitched up was just an excuse. You were hoping to catch a glimpse of my bride, is that right?”
“Abuela said that if we wanted to see your wife, we had to visit your house, because you never bring her around to meet your family,” Bodhi put in.
“Dios mio, Abuela,” I grumbled. I should have known she would waste no time piling on the guilt.
“Auntie Esperanza said she’s drop dead gorgeous,” Mario said.
