Page 58 of The Biker and the Loner
I idly twist my beer bottle between my palms, thinking about the one person I truly give a damn about from the club. A pure soul and a true, loyal friend. "Onyx..."
"He's been a pussy manager from day one," Grunt says, reminding me of what I already know. "When everyone else was in charge of guns or drugs, he was in charge of pussy. He’s never been interested in the other shit. Never been on a road drop or a meetup. Plus managing Cookie’s businesses keeps him busy. He just might be the safest one there.”
"Orthe one in the most danger. He’s Judge's son," I remind him.
"Yeah, well. Onyx isn’t stupid, we just gotta trust that." He takes a swig from his bottle before shooting me a grin. "You're getting out."
"Seems so."
"I'll flat-out deny it if you ever tell anyone I said this, but Toni and I prayed for this shit," he confesses, shocking me. "We prayed you’d get back home safe, and when you did, we prayed you'd get the hell outta DOH."
I jerk my chin in amusement. "You believe in God now?"
"He's Toni's God, actually. She forces me to pray with her. It's either that or no head. And my woman’s the shit with her mouth, so..." He shrugs unapologetically. "Plus, I get a lotta free shit from Him just by asking, so, eh, what the heck. Why not?"
This clown. Chuckling, I throw a fry across the table at him. "Well, I guess your God is legit then, ‘cause everything seems to be going in my favor so far. Even Judge's supporting me getting out. And that's nothing short of a miracle if you believe in those things."
“At this point, you don’t even need Judge’s support. They hear you’re leaving for Red Cage and they’ll think twice about putting a bullet in you.” He holds up his bottle and I clink it with mine. Beer to Coco-Cola. "You'll be alright."
We both take swigs.
"Got something else I gotta tell you..."
"You're hooking up with Ley," he states, not a question.
Of course, he knows. Why am I not surprised? "Cookie?"
He nods in affirmation. "She told Toni, and Toni tried to get me to talk to you."
"Talk to me?"
"You've got a rep." He offers an apologetic shrug. "They're worried you'll mess her up."
"It's not like that with her."
"I know."
"I'm serious about her."
"I know."
"I might even love her."
"Did I 'talk' to you?" he asks rhetorically. "No, I didn't. Because Iknowyou. No way you’d have her all up in that house, going furniture and grocery shopping and all that shit if you weren't serious about her."
I rub my palm across my thickening beard. "She's...I dunno, but she's like fucking oxygen for me right now. A reason, where I never had one before. She just might be it for me."
"She probably is, but..." He leans in, forearms on the table. "Don't know if you’ve figured it out by now, but she's got some shit going on at home. She’s never told me what it is, but it used to mess with her head in a bad way."
Blowing out a breath, I pick at the label on my bottle. "I know what it is. Can't tell you, but she's staying with me now. Though I don't know for how long, ‘cause like you said, that shit’s got her volatile." I give him a meaningful jerk of the head. "If it comes to it, I'll have to take care of that 'shit' myself."
He gets my meaning and nods. "And I'd be happy to take care of it with you."
I grunt, hoping it doesn't have to come to that.
"Hang on,” I start on an unrelated matter, a thought triggered by what he said about Toni earlier. “Was Toni really ‘on the fence’ about selling the house, or were you guys keeping it specifically forme? You know, so I’d have somewhere to live once your ‘prayers’ were answered?”
“Um…” The look on his face tells me I’ve hit the nail on the head. He checks his watch. “Well, look at that. My lunch hour’s over. Gotta go, brother. Thanks for lunch.”
