Page 72 of Crew
Heather grunted before tapping the armrest on her chair. "Okay. So. What's up? It's not normal for you to come look for me. Willingly."
Jordan and Zellman sat down. Both chuckled at what she said.
I shot them a look. They shut up.
Then I sat down. "An MC showed up at Tuesday Tits--like, the whole group. They didn't look like they were there just to party."
"Shit." She stood up, her hands patting her pockets again as she went inside. "I'll be right back."
Jordan was watching her go. "What's with the hand stuff?"
"She quit smoking. It's been a lifetime habit."
"Ah." He nodded, knowingly. "I had an uncle who smoked all his life, until he was in his sixties."
"What happened?" Zellman asked.
Jordan didn't blink. "He got Parkinson's and burned the house down trying to light a cigarette."
"Man. I'm sorry. He quit after that?"
"Nah. He died." Jordan added, "From the fire."
Zellman and I stared at him, but there were no words. Then we all heard Taz's voice inside. Maybe it was the catalyst or maybe it was because I heard Heather snipe at her to "chill," but for whatever reason, I felt calmer.
Heather wasn't like Channing.
If I needed to know something for his safety, she would tell me. That was one thing--she never minced words. She didn't seem to feel I needed protecting and shielding. She knew I had a crew, and it was a good crew. She would tell me if we needed to do something, so that issue moved more to the back of my mind.
It wasn't long until Heather came back. She waved her phone at me before sitting back down.
"It sounds like they have it under control. There was a little hiccup, but I have someone who's going to call me if I need to be worried. So, I guess stay tuned?" Her grin was lopsided. "Sorry. I know you were worried."
"I just need to know if we have to go in to help them. That's all."
She shook her head, pulling her eyebrows together. "No. That'd make Chan even more worried. He'd call more of his guys, but I'll let you know what's going on."
