Page 37 of His Old Lady

Chapter 13

Curley

"Curley," shouted Paco, holding up the phone receiver on the other side of the clubhouse. "Prison call."

He jogged across the room, knowing the operator wouldn't hold the line more than a minute before disconnecting. As he approached Paco, he asked, "Nelson?"

"She never said who's calling." Paco handed him the receiver.

"Yeah, Curley, here." He dropped his chin to his chest, trying to hear over the music playing in the clubhouse. "Hello?"

"This is Montana State Penitentiary calling. Will you accept a call from Kevin Walker?"

He lowered the phone, and Paco grabbed his wrist before he could hang up. There was nothing Walker needed to say to him.

"He's asking for you, brother. Take the call," said Paco.

Curley gritted his teeth. Walker hadn't called him since he'd claimed Faye. There was nothing more to say between the two of them.

They each knew why Walker was in prison and why he was living on the outside, taking care of Faye.

Paco pointed his finger, urging him to accept the call. Curley's chest tightened. "Yes."

There was no defining click, letting him know the operator left the connection. All calls received from the prison, from Tarkio members, were under the assumption that they were being recorded. Club business couldn't be shared over the phone. That meant Walker called for a personal reason.

"You there?" said Walker.

His upper lip curled, knowing the voice as well as his own. "Yeah."

"What's going on with my niece?"

Just like that, Walker had put personal feelings aside and got to the point of the call. Faye was more important than anything else.

"She's working at a titty bar." That's all the explanation Walker would need.

"Control her, damnit."

He grabbed the back of the chair in front of him. "I am."

"Fucking Christ, man." Walker's voice got deeper. "If you don't get her to stop, I will."

His skin prickled. "What have you done?"

"I've agreed to let her walk away from you in exchange for putting her shirt back on and quitting her job, and I'll keep my word."

As if sucker punched, he rocked back on the heels of his boots. "She belongs to me."

"Bullshit. You claimed her but haven't done Jack shit about making her your ol' lady."

He fisted his hand and punched out at the chair, sending it toppling. Walker had nothing to do with his personal business. When he claimed Faye, that meant she belonged to him.

"You're stepping on dangerous ground, brother," he said through clenched teeth.

"Let her go or—"

"Don't come between Faye and me." He growled. "I'll handle her."

"She can't work at the tittie bar," said Walker, his voice vibrating over the phone.

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