Page 137 of Colt

“It’s like he’s speakin’ another fuckin’ language,” Prez continued. “Do you remember the days when we actually discussed club business in Church? This room is fuckin’ sacred and all we talk about is dicks, Real Housewives, and teenage girl Vampire Slayers.”

Abe held a hand up. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. You’re the one who talks about Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce.”

“He’s got ya there, Pop,” Cash muttered.

“That’s different.” Prez’s lips pursed and he sniffed. “Traylor’s current affairs and it’s ‘cause of the kids. I’m their grandpa and I gotta know what the fuck they’re talkin’ about or I’d be goddamned lost.”

“Fuckin’ Taylor Swift is all Sunny listens to these days,” Bowie said, looking at Breaker accusingly. “I blame your daughter that Sunny’s gonna end up with a goddamned concussion from twatting her noggin off a wall ‘cause she twirls so fuckin’ much.”

“Blame my girl all you want,” Break retorted. “Kady could be listenin’ to worse. Carry on with ya whining, and I’ll bust out some gangster rap for Sunny and laugh while she beats along to how they fuck their bitches up.”

Bowie paled.

Atlas busted out laughing.

Cash chuckled.

Prez’s lips twitched. “Right. Last business I’ve got is to say that the recognition system’s working up a storm. Had a few pings and of course, we got those three girls safe last week.” His eyes slid to Atlas. “Good job on the disposal.”

The SAA smirked. “Fuck you very much. Ya got a hairy crotch.”

Cash barked a laugh.

Breaker’s hand clapped over his mouth.

Abe let out a hoot.

Prez’s eyes narrowed. “You dirty bastard. Bandit’ll be rollin’ over in his grave. Why can’t you talk like a normal person?”

Atlas’s chest rumbled with laughter.

Dagger looked around the room with his nose in the air like Atlas was giving off a bad smell. “Any other fuckin’ business.”

Silence.

“Church is over.” He banged the gavel down hard on the sound block. “Fuck off the lotta ya.”

The sound of chairs scraping across the wooden floor went up and we all headed for the door.

“Wait!” Prez called loudly.

We all stopped and turned.

“Someone said Freya fucked off to Denver for the weekend. Do you know about it?” he asked.

Cash cocked his head. “She went to see her friend before the holidays started.”

“It’s thick fuckin’ snow out there,” Prez muttered.

“The main roads are clear,” Bowie told him. “I taught her how to drive in the bad weather, and I put her snow tires on. She’ll be fine. She’s been driving in snow for years, including down in Colorado.”

Prez raised a hand to rub his beard thoughtfully. “I’ll have to have a word with her. I see less of her now than I did when she lived a fuckin’ state away. She’ll be off to start her internship soon. She needs to spend more time with the family while she’s here.”

Abe’s forehead scrunched up. “She’s a young girl with the world at her feet, Dagger. She’ll be a qualified surgeon in a few years. Let her have some fun.”

Prez ignored him, instead looking at Cash. “When’s she coming home?”

“Monday,” the VP replied. “She told me she’s spending the weekend with Abi.”

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