Page 67 of Playing for Keeps

“And you know that how?”

“Lola is teaching me the ways of the Blood-Red Suns. I know shit about every member, good and bad. I know how the money flows. I know who starts shit for the club and who is loyal. She wants me to be ready to go if something happens to her dad.”

“Is he sick or something?” Pa-Emmett mutters. “I feel like they’re hiding shit from us.”

“No, he’s just at that point in his life when he can no longer pretend as if he’ll live forever. Oh, and having no sons fucked him mentally.”

“Having sons is no picnic,” Pa-Emmett mutters and scowls at West and me.

My brother and I stand straighter and smile big for our pa.

“You had it easy,” West insists. “With sons, anyway. I can’t imagine raising Tuesday was easy.”

“She got us a new member for the club. What did you give me, West?”

“Future ginger grandkids. Oh, and a clown for your birthday parties.”

Pa-Emmett smiles. “Alexis is a keeper.”

“Hey, Lola is great, too,” I blurt out. “She also throws a better punch than West’s wife.”

“Yeah, I heard about that,” Pa-Emmett says and then rubs the back of his neck. “I just feel strange about having one of my boys heading up a club that isn’t mine.”

“Well, if you still feel that way when I become president,” West explains, winning a scowl from me, “I’ll patch them over. That way, Val’s wearing our patch again.”

Pa-Emmett grins at that idea. “And we can do what Val suggested and cut Florida loose. Stick to our two towns and one club. It’s the easiest solution and my boys came up with it.”

I frown at a smirking West. I don’t like how he’s going to boss me around one day. I’ve endured that shit all my life.

“We’ll see,” I tell him.

“Youwillobey,” West snarls before laughing in my face. “I will never stop being your fricking boss.”

Pa-Emmett snaps at us. “Don’t start wrestling. Your ma fixed up the house before she left.”

“Where did she go?” West asks and walks away from me. He pauses to check his phone. “Oh, never mind, Alexis says Ma is starting trouble at the salon.”

“Should I race there to save Lola?” I ask Pa-Emmett. “Or save Ma? Or just to watch them bond and become best friends?”

My father shakes his head. “Leave Poppy alone. She’s got to get this shit out of her system before the wedding. I can’t have her pitching a fit during the ceremony.”

Nodding, I text Lola with a few sage words of support.

“My ma has weak ankles,” I explain and then add, “Please don’t hurt my mommy.”

When Lola doesn’t respond immediately, I assume she’s too busy keeping my ma from clawing her eyes out.

Or maybe they’re hugging and talking about how great I am.

Both scenarios seem completely feasible, making staying at the homestead impossible.

Before I can escape, Pa-Emmett grabs the back of my jeans and yanks me back into the house.

“Stay here with your old man and watch the game. I need to pretend nothing is changing.”

I glance at West who shrugs. We settle on various chairs and feign interest in the baseball game. Occasionally, my brother receives texts from Alexis, and I lean over to check if the police are involved.

LOLA, AKA THE ICE BITCH THAWS

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