Page 40 of Scatter the Bones

“I know as much as you do,” Rooster says.

Sparky shuffles over to us, eyes bloodshot and faint smile forever plastered on his lips. “Ol’ ladies and kids are down in the dining room or doing yoga.” He tilts his head toward the hallway.

“Look at you, so knowledgeable at this hour.” I bump my fist against his shoulder.

“I know stuff,” he mutters, rubbing the spot and shooting me a scowl. “When you close your mouth and open your mind, you absorb all the things the universe has to offer.”

“Greaaat.” I widen my eyes and nod slowly.

Even though no one lingered in the living room, it takes a while for the guys to find a seat and Rock to call the meeting to order.

I drop into a chair on the far side of the table, halfway between Rock’s end and Z’s. Rooster slides into the seat on my left.

Outside, more bikes rumble into the parking area—stragglers.

I’m not sticking around after this, so they better not block me in. I double-check that my phone’s off. Just because Wrath didn’t collect them today doesn’t mean he won’t choke us if a phone rings during the meeting.

I lift my head and meet Grinder’s eyes across the table. He dips his chin like he’s silently thanking me for remembering to shut off my phone.

I send my gaze up and down the table. Of course, it’s downstate guys late to the meeting.

Hustler and Suds bust through the door just as Wrath’s about to close it. Hustler’s grinning like an idiot and holds up a crumpled file folder and nods at Teller.

“All right.” Teller holds up his hand for a long-distance high-five across the table.

Hustler stops and says a few words against Z’s ear. Z nods quickly, then Hustler drops into the chair next to Z.

I lean left and whisper to Rooster. “Think we’re all gettin’ raises?”

“Looks like it.”

“All right.” Rock leans forward, no need to bang his gavel this morning—he already has our attention. “Thanks, everyone, for being here. As always, welcome to our downstate brothers. I know it’s a longer ride for you, but we appreciate seeing your faces.”

“Not a problem, Rock,” Butcher rumbles, waving one of his meaty hands through the air. “You know we never say no to more time in the saddle.”

Hustler’s practically vibrating in his seat. Teller leans in, murmurs something to Rock, who gives a slight nod.

Rock gestures down the table. “Z, you want to go first?”

Z props his elbows on the table. “Our dirty little cop says we’re off their radar—for now.”

“Jesus fuck,” Suds groans. “About time.”

“The break-in at the laundromat was a pain in the ass but since my boys cooperated with their investigation.” Z reaches over and slaps Hustler’s arm, then points at Rooster and Eazy. “They decided we must be good little law-abiding bikers.”

Grinder snorts. “That guy couldn’t find his way out of a phone booth with a crowbar.”

Dex flashes a sly grin. “I don’t think they have phone booths anymore.”

“No one asked you,” Grinder growls, casting a sideways glance Dex’s way. “Keep it up and I’ll take you outside and teach you some goddamn respect.”

Dex’s grin only widens.

“Anyway.” Z raises his voice. “Hustler has news.”

Hustler grins like a kid who just passed a test he didn’t study for—or understand—which kind of sums up his role as Downstate’s treasurer. “Thanks to Teller’s guidance, we saw a solid jump in our portfolio. Teller recommended we lock in profits on a few positions, so I’ll be distributing bonuses to Downstate this week.”

“Nice!” Butcher pumps his fist in the air.

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