Page 56 of Mensa's Match

That stubborn resolve of hers annoyed him, but it also made him smile. “Right. Keep telling yourself that, woman.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner, but you don’t need to make a trip to Aunt Nadia’s shop.”

“Yeah, it’s a little late for that. I’m standing outside her shop right fuckin’ now.”

Her tone became more regretful. “Sorry. Really, I am, but I didn’t want to interrupt you on your ‘club business.’”

He dragged a hand down his face, fighting his anger and his perverse urge to laugh. “Right. I’m gonna let you focus on driving. I’ll call you later tonight.”

“Why?”

“Why the fuck not? But really, Blume…we got more to discuss. Later.”

Mensa sat at a high-top table sipping a gin and tonic while watching Roman and Tiny shoot pool. He had his temper under control for the most part, but after he hung up with Whitney, he’d put a call into Monica Wright about whether he could make the trip up to Jackson without giving Fortner or Robinson a reason to bring him into the station. With any luck, she’d get back to him tomorrow morning.

Bottom line, he and Whitney had to have a conversation, and he didn’t want to do it over the phone.

The front door opened and Scrap came inside.

“Yo, Tiny! How’s it hanging?” Scrap asked, wandering toward the pool table.

“What the hell? Are Roman and Mensa invisible to you?” Tiny demanded.

Scrap’s teeth flashed with his grimace. The effort to not roll his eyes was obvious. “Sorry. Roman. Mensa. What’s up?”

Every so often, Mensa hated how they gave prospects so much shit just to earn their patch, but then it would quickly fade because he knew this ‘shit’ strengthened the bond between the brothers.

Roman gave Scrap a chin-dip and Mensa did the same.

Tiny lined up his shot.

Scrap waited until the cue ball rolled across the felt before he spoke. “I talked to one of my friends who’s still trying to get in with the Miscreants.”

Scrap’s situation with the Riot MC was unique. He was eighteen, and old enough to prospect, but he was still in high school (for another two weeks), which normally would have forced him to be a hang-around for another year. Tiny and his woman, Sierra, had taken Scrap under their wing because of his awful home-life and the spiral that was taking. Proving how much he cared about Sierra, when her life was threatened, Scrap stepped up in a serious way. That meant once Tiny suggestedhe’d sponsor Scrap as a prospect, all of the brothers had been on board.

The seven ball dropped into the corner pocket, and Tiny straightened from the table. “That friend still in school?”

“Basically.”

Tiny arched a brow. “Define basically.”

“He’s at school enough not to be truant, but he’s failing all his classes except ICT.” Scrap took in the puzzled looks from Tiny, Roman, and Mensa. “That’s a computer class. Anyway, he said Demetrius Barlow is snubbing the Miscreants.”

Mensa caught Scrap’s attention. “If your friend is trying to get in, then how would he know that the Miscreants are getting snubbed?”

Scrap’s eyes widened. “Because Dee’s been snubbin’ them for like almost a year now.”

Mensa stared at Scrap for a beat. “When you say ‘Dee,’ are you referring Demetrius?”

“Yeah,” Scrap said with a slight head shake. “Who else would I be talkin’ about?”

“Dontrell, his daddy,” Mensa said.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I forgot about that.”

“Does your friend know why the Miscreants still want Demetrius to join them?” Roman asked.

Scrap shook his head. “I didn’t get to ask that. He hardly wanted to tell me what he knew because the Miscreants are pissed I’m prospecting with the Riot.”

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