Page 56 of Deadly Aloha
“What about Kayl?” Tommy asked.
I shook my head. “I need him on the outside. He’s no use to us if his superiors suspect his loyalties are compromised.”
“One of Yooko’s workers was talking to me the other night about joining,” Saga said. “Big guy, but I don’t know if you know him. Goes by Mouse. Gotta say, he looks intimidating, but a total marshmallow. Not sure he has the stomach for…” Saga paused, and I had a feeling he was remembering last night. “Some of the grittier work we do,” the man hedged carefully.
“Bring him around anyway,” I told him. “Man either makes the cut or he doesn’t. He’ll have to earn his rockers the same as the rest of us.”
Saga nodded his agreement.
“I want the bunkhouse finished ASAP. Lu’s going to be making an appointment at her OB for some time this week, and I’ve been neglecting the surf shop. Can anyone think of any other business we need to cover?”
“Bacon’s busy, so I’ll remind everyone,” Tommy called out loudly. “Party at Yooko’s tonight. He’ll need all hands on deck.”
Another reason we needed the bunkhouse finished sooner than later. I did not want to keep having to travel to Yooko’s every time we wanted to throw a party. I had no use for the Club Cunts who hung around, but it was amusing watching that much pussy flock to the others like the leather cuts we now wore were laced with catnip. Once the bunkhouse was finished, the guys wanted to move a couple in for easy access. I had no issue with it, but they weren’t going to live and eat here with free room and board without doing more than spreading their legs and sucking cock.
The twins wanted to put them in a uniform of a thong and mini cut while making them clean the stalls. One of them had also mentioned a horse’s tail butt plug.
Whatever floated their boat. I was not their priest.
Speaking of which, I turned to Lucifer. “How’s the youth center?”
“Good,” the man answered with a prideful smile. “It does a lot of good when the kids see us. I wanted to ask if anyone had a problem bringing their bike over to have the kids help either clean it or give it a tune up.”
“We’ll all do it,” I declared. “Name a day and we’ll be there.”
Lucifer smiled his appreciation. “Thanks, Prez. I’ll get back to you.”
Since there wasn’t anything else, I dismissed the meeting. I had my pregnant woman to take care of and a best friend whose drunk ass was in a severe need of a kicking. What happened with my sister was fucked up, but it was also two years ago.
The man needed to get over it and move on or find a way to forgive her.
A lifetimeof friendship was the only reason I allowed Tangaloa to sleep it off. The fact that I was pissed at him was the reason “Stupid Hoe” by Nikki Minaj was the song I chose when I grew too impatient for him to wake on his own.
Tangaloa jumped off his pillow, grabbing his head. I let the song continue even as I held up a trash bin for him to vomit into. He heaved, his body jolting violently on the bed. I sat relaxed in the chair I’d dragged into his room earlier with my feet raised by his knees.
“You’re a fucking asshole.” His voice was echoed by the plastic bucket of puke.
I turned the music off. “I left the shades closed.”
He glared at me as he slowly lifted his head. He was ashen in the face and his eyes were bloodshot. “What the fuck do you want?”
Tangaloa tried to push the bucket away from him, but I was not about to have vomit splattered all over me, so I gently lowered it back down to the floor. The pungent smell was laced with so much alcohol it was likely a fire hazard.
“We need to talk.”
He grunted, throwing an arm over his eyes.
I turned the music back on.
“Fine!” he called out, putting his hands over his ears.
I turned the music off. “Was today the first day you’ve seen Kalea?” I asked him.
Pualani had been a preemie, and thus smaller than she should have been. She’d started to gain weight following her birth and then stopped around three weeks. When they tookblood to see if they could find out the cause, Tangaloa noticed his daughter’s blood type was AB Negative. He was B Positive. The likelihood that he fathered her was low, and it prompted him to get a paternity test done, which came back that Pualani wasnothis daughter.
I knew Tangaloa’s rule about not mentioning either Kalea or Pualani to him, and Kalea hadn’t been to the farm since Pualani’s birth before today. This was a topic we were going to need to discuss, whether he liked it or not.
Tangaloa’s jaw was stiff, his eyes closed, as he nodded. I was about to speak again when he said, “She had Pua with her.”
