Page 22 of Sex & Cigarettes

I find my brother shooting the shit with my old man, Uncle Striker, Grim, and Romeo. I left Chaser to keep a closer watch over Ainsley and Smith. Raul is dead, but the target on my back will never be gone. There will always be someone who wants to move in on what’s mine.

Right now though, my only concern is my brother. He’s supposed to be in prison. He is very much here instead. It won’t take authorities long to connect the dots. I won’t ask him to go, but I don’t need the heat he’s going to bring either.

“I have a favor I can call in. Buddy of mine from when Baby and I were in California. He has the connections. It won’t trace back to any of our known contacts,” I overhear my Uncle Striker explaining.

There was a time he and his wife were in witness protection. They went by Karly and Nash during that period of their lives.

“About time you dragged your sorry ass around,” Grim booms, getting up from his chair to embrace me.

“Who let you out?” I shake my head and hug him back. It’s good to see his hateful old ass.

“Where’s my grandson?” my father starts.

“Home.” I move away from Grim to pull my phone out and showoff some of the pictures I snapped.

“You text these to your mom, yet?”

“Hell. I knew I forgot something.”

“I think Chelle Belle will understand considering,” Romeo says. “He’s a handsome little devil. Must get that from me.”

“The fuck are you talking about? You aren’t related to my boys.”

“I fucked your mom and fathered your brother. I’m family.”

“I fucked her too,” Grim announces.

“Someone shoot me. I’m not gonna survive the ride back with these fucks,” my father grumbles.

“I don’t need to know who my dead grandmother fucked. Goddamn.” Axel knocks back his jar of moonshine, chugging the clear liquor.

“Nice family.” Murphy chuckles and hands me a beer.

“Now you see why I jumped at the chance to move down here.”

“Least we keep shit interesting,” Romeo grumbles. “Where’s’ all the pussy?”

“Nobody wants your wrinkled old dick, man,” Striker tells his father.

Our family tree is seriously fucked up, but if I tried to explain it, I’d be drawing a damn map or a chart or some shit.

“The fuck they don’t. Watch this.” He gets up and goes over to the bar where some of the hangarounds are.

“I thought he was with Jordan Marie.”

“Bitch left his ass for a younger man. Big black guy with a much bigger dick. He’s taking it hard,” Grim volunteers.

“Not as hard as Jordan,” my father adds with a chuckle.

“Get his old ass laid,” I tell Murphy.

“What about me?” Grim strokes his beard.

“Him too. Just keep them the fuck away and entertained. Take them to The Drop.”

“The fuck is The Drop?” Striker wonders.

“Strip club.”

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