Page 19 of Lucky

“I’ve been working here for years, and I see a lot. Been friends with Aria since the first week here, so between what she says and doesn’t say, I’ve gathered a few things.”

“Friends?” I question, surprised.

Her smile widens at my incredulous tone. “That’s right.Friends.”

“Okay.” I nod.

“She lost her mom when she was young and learned most things from the snobby kids she went to school with over the years. But we’re honest with each other, and we genuinely like each other. It works.”

“All right, you’ve made your point. Did you need something?”

“No. But two sexy men showed up asking for you, so I figured you might want to know.” She laughs, the sound echoing as she leaves the sunroom.

In the front living room, I find two of my brothers, Wild Man and Tank, and I smile. “You boys must have missed me to come all the way out here.”

Tank laughs when he turns to me. “Nah, we came to make sure you don’t start eatin’ cucumber sandwiches with your pinkies in the air.”

I frown. “Who the fuck is eating a cucumber sandwich?”

Wild Man laughs even more. “It’s like a rich delicacy or some shit,” he says with a shrug. “Brought you some shit to tide you over.”

He’s holding a paper bag, and I cross the room, snatching it from his grasp like the greedy fucker I am.

“You’re welcome,” he says in response.

“Oh shit, Maven Cakes! Thanks, bro. Tell Maven she’s the best.”

I pull out two boxes from For Goodness Cakes, happy to see the bakery is up and running after those LTC fucks caused a fire. “Then I saw something else in the bag and took a peek.

“Tequila and bourbon? Damn, is it my birthday?”

“See,” Wilder Man says to Tank. “I told you it didn’t take much to make this guy happy.”

Tank’s deep laughter bounces off the dark wood that decorates the room. “Maybe it’s because he’s babysitting a damn Playmate.”

“Wrong,” I growl and crack open the tequila, pouring it into the crystal glasses from the bar in the far corner of the room. “She’s a Playmate’s evil twin. All the hotness but infused with the devil.”

I hand each of my brothers a glass, and we sit on the brand-new leather chairs that now decorate the room where Emiliano took his last breath.

“Hot is hot,” Tank grumbles. “I almost hate to give you this since you’re already having such a good time.” He hands me a green plastic bag with the logo of one of our dispensaries. “A few pre-rolled joints. Should get you through the shitshow.”

I pull out one and put it up to my nose to smell it. “I vote for Tank to get patched immediately.”

Wild Man laughs. “We’re not just here bringing gifts.”

My smile fades, and I lean forward, giving Wild Man my full attention. “What’s up?”

More than anything, I want a bigger role in the MC, and if a guy like Wild Man is coming to me for anything, I’m damn well going to listen carefully and offer what I can.

“I have an idea about a way to strike LTC where it hurts, but I need some input.”

I frown. “How can I help?”

At that question, Wild Man’s shoulders relax, and he outlines his plan. “I’ve been talking to this guy, a black hat hacker named KrypTonic. He’s a pro with drones. Like top-of-the-line military-style drones. Motherfucker is expensive, and I think the work you did in the Spartan Brigade will help.”

“How do you…never mind.” There isn’t shit Wild Man can’t find out, and I nod. “Okay, what work?”

“The opium fields.”

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