Page 66 of Smokey's Distraction
It was always the same scenario: Ryan would ask Smokey to find their youngest brother’s phone number, and when he did, Ryan would never call. It was some weird game they’d been playing over the last few years.
Smokey scooted out of the booth. “I’m holding you to getting your damn ass to a rehab center Cara recommends. Got it?”
Swinging his legs out into the aisle, he rose to his feet, following behind Stoney. “I will. Cara said it’ll look good to the judge if I meet with the people at the center.”
“This isn’t just to impress some fuckin’ dude in a robe—it’s for your damn life. You gotta follow through on it.”
“I will, I promise. Thanks for breakfast.”
“I’ll send over some groceries today. Text me what you and Mom want. I have to get to the office.”
“I’d like to see your office.”
Opening his wallet, Smokey handed over several bills to the cashier. “Sometime,” he replied.
“Hey, bro,” Animal greeted as he walked into the diner with Klutch and Helm.
Turning around, he bumped fists with them. “How’s it going?”
“Good. Shadow said he’s helping you out at a site.”
“Yeah, but we’re almost done with it. I’m heading out there now.” Smokey slipped his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans.
Helm tipped his head to Ryan. “Hey, man.”
Ryan smiled wide. “Hi. What are you guys up to?”
“Just getting some chow.” Helm turned to Smokey. “Banger’s called church for tomorrow afternoon.”
“What’s up?”
“The fucking Rising Order assholes,” Animal replied. “Seems like they’re bottom rocker is claiming Colorado.”
Smokey snorted. “Well that’s not gonna happen.”
Klutch nodded his head in agreement.
“Skeet’s dumber than I thought if he thinks we’re gonna put up with this shit.” Animal said.
Smokey narrowed his eyes. “We gotta beat their asses and end this BS once and for all.”
The bikers grumbled their agreement, then clammed up when more people entered the eatery.
“I better get going.” He bumped fists with his friends again. “Later.”
The sound of gravel crunched under the two men’s shoes as they made their way across the parking lot. Stopping beside a brown Toyota, Ryan unlocked the door and looked over at his brother.
“Don’t forget about the groceries.”
Smokey pulled out his sunglasses and put them on as he gazed across the lot. “I won’t. Just text me what you want.”
“Oh yeah! I forgot I was supposed to do that. When are you gonna come over to the house?”
Smokey shrugged. “No reason to.”
Ryan rubbed his chin with the back of his hand. “Mom asks about you.”
“Bullshit. If she never saw me again, that would suit her just fine.”
