Page 67 of Doozer

“Is that so?”

“Indeed, it is. So, let’s go inside, rustle up some whiskey, and have us a chat. Maybe we can figure out exactly what life is trying to teach you.”

“A drink sounds great,” I said, still unsure about what he meant.

“Good,” Duke said.

Duke led us up to the house and into his study, and Pearl excused herself for the evening. It was still way too early for bed, but I got the distinct impression she was retiring to leave themen to their business. Their whole vibe was old school as shit, and super cool to watch. Duke and Pearl were like something out of a movie. Their vibe reminded me of that scene in Godfather II when Michael Corleone meets with Hyman Roth in Florida. Hyman Roth’s old lady brings him a tuna sandwich on a tray while he and Michael Corleone watch baseball and casually plot who’s gonna get whacked.

“Scotch okay with you?” Duke asked, setting out three glasses.

“Whatever you’re pouring, sir,” I replied.

“Alright, you can knock off that sir shit. I’m a professional rancher and an amateur lover and neither of those things requires me to be addressed as sir. Duke’ll do fine, son.”

I nodded.

“So, Minus tells me you’re a good kid, and a good soldier,” Duke said handing me my drink.

“I’m glad, if not a little surprised to hear that, but maybe club talk should stay between just you and me,” I said, motioning toward Carson.

“I’m your lawyer, Doozer,” Carson replied. “Whatever you say to me is confidential information bound by attorney client privilege.”

“How exactly are you my lawyer? I don’t have any money. I can’t pay you,” I said.

“I sent Bird to Virginia after Minus called me,” Duke said, handing me my drink. “It was the least I could do, and I was happy to do it. Pearl and I owe our lives to Minus and Cricket.”

“Who knows how long I would have rotted in the backwater shithole jail cell if you hadn’t?”

“Let’s just say, I’ve been in your boots before,” Duke said with a grin before taking a slow sip.

“Minus said you were out in Quantico because of your woman. That right?”

I nodded. “She’s enrolled at the FBI training academy.”

“FBI training? A biker’s old lady?”

“It’s kind of a long story,” I said, dismissively.

“You got anything better to talk about while we whack away at this here bottle?”

“I guess not,” I laughed. Over the hour I brought Duke and Carson Bird up to speed. I told them all about Sweet Pea’s standoff with Wolf, how the club had come to work with Taxi, and about Trouble joining his new team.

“Well, that Trouble sounds like a tough cookie,” Duke said.

“She’s amazing,” I replied. “I’ve never met anyone else like her. Not even close.”

“You love her?”

“Of course, she’s perfect.”

“You tell her that?”

I nodded, taking a sip.

“So, why don’t you marry her?” Duke asked as plainly as possible.

“What?” I replied, almost spitting out my drink.

---