Page 45 of Smokey's Distraction
Smokey nodded, flicking the roach to the ground. “I’m sick of Ryan’s BS. I’m gonna have to straighten him out once and for all. I can’t have his back when he keeps doing stupid shit like this.”
Helm chuckled. “Family can be a roaring pain in the ass, and don’t I know it.”
Taking out his phone, Smokey grumbled, “Yeah.”
“What time are we heading over to meet Ray?” Klutch asked.
“After I talk to Ryan and have a shot of Jack.”
Gravel crunched under Smokey’s boots as he walked around the clubhouse. After tapping in Ryan’s number, he cursed when the call went to voicemail. Two more futile attempts had him ready to throw the cell phone against the brick wall. Gritting his teeth, he plugged in his mother’s number and waited.
“What do you want?” she answered, her voice cold and flat.
“Where’s Ryan?”
“I don’t know.”
“I need to talk with him.”
“I’ll tell him when I see him.”
An awkward silence passed between them before he cleared his throat.
“Did Ryan tell you he’s got problems with the badges again?”
“That’s not my concern.”
He huffed. “Nothing with us ever was.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Tell him I called.”
Disconnecting the call, he slipped the phone into his pocket and headed inside the club.
Tania rushed over and threw her arms around him as he made his way toward the bar.
“Hiya, sexy,” she said.
“Hey.”
The scent of cinnamon wrapped around him as he returned her hug before pulling away. Over her shoulder, he held up two fingers to the prospect manning the bar.
“Are you stickin’ around?” she said.
“Not planning to.” Turning, he walked to the counter and picked up the first shot of Jack.
“Dude,” Throttle greeted, bumping Smokey’s fist with his. “You need some help with Ray?”
“Nah. Klutch, Rags, and I can handle it. If he’s smart, there won’t be any trouble.”
A smile spread across Throttle’s lips. “And if he isn’t, he’ll get his ass kicked.”
“Yeah. I’m hoping he’s smart.” Smokey threw back his second shot. “He shouldn’t have gotten a loan from us if he couldn’t pay it back. We make this shit real clear to people.”
“But they don’t think we’re serious.”
With a slow nod of agreement, Smokey pushed away from the bar. “They find out the hard way that we are. Tell Klutch and Rags I’m outside. I gotta make a phone call.”
