Anise has wild green hair, sad blue eyes, and the messiest fucking apartment I’ve ever had the misfortune of stepping inside. And my cousin is a damn hoarder!
“I should get a maid,” she says after dumping clothes on the floor to make room for us on her couch. “But I won’t. I don’t like people touching my shit.”
“Hard to believe Ellie dumped you.”
“She cheated on me, fatass!” Anise yells and throws a pizza carton at Clove. “I dumped her. I don’t want some man’s sloppy seconds.”
“I stand corrected.”
Anise smiles before flopping into a broken chair nearby. “Joker expects you to drop into Suede this afternoon to say hello. He has something he wants to unload on the Heretics.”
“Unload?” I ask.
“Don’t ask me for specifics because I don’t know any. Only where and when Joker expects you.”
“Will his enforcers be around to intimidate my pretty boy?” Clove asks, never looking at me.
“Who knows? Why does he need to intimidate anyone? I thought the Heretics were his bitches.”
Clove shakes her head. “For now, they are. In a few years, shit could shift. Most of the Heretics are young, and Ginger’s helping Oz organize shit. This underdog crap is temporary.”
For the next half hour, I feel invisible while the women speak. This feeling doesn’t improve when we arrive at Suede—a mix between a tiki bar and a honky-tonk—where Joker waits at a back table. I recognize him from a picture Oz showed us nearly a year ago. Sitting on one side of the middle-aged man, with his rusty-colored hair and beard, are two large men I assume are his club enforcers. On the other side of Joker sits a mixed-race man in his early twenties that I’m guessing is Ginger’s old boyfriend, Madden.
Clove marches over to Joker and his men, quickly introduces me, and then immediately takes over the conversation.
“What did you want the Heretics to take off your hands?” she demands as if ready to throw punches.
“Guy named Hazard,” Joker says without missing a beat. “He’s getting out of prison in a few weeks, and I think he’d be a better fit with people who don’t live here.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
Joker shrugs his wide shoulders and smiles. “Got bad blood with the club. See, ten years ago, give or take a few months, Hazard firebombed a dirty cop’s house. Now normally the local boys in blue and the club would keep that problem quiet, but that particular dirty cop was tight with our old president, Trigger. So Hazard got busted and sent to prison for a decade. I think maybe Trigger was hoping Hazard might turn snitch and we could get our guys inside to take him out. Trigger loved making an example of people. Nonetheless, Hazard’s mouth stayed shut, and Trigger got himself killed.”
“If Trigger’s dead, what’s the problem?” Clove asks, crossing her arms.
Joker likely realizes his sales pitch isn’t winning over Clove, so he turns his amused gaze to me. “Hazard might be holding a grudge because he sure doesn’t seem keen on bonding with his club brothers again. I thought with your club’s small numbers that you could find a place for him.”
“No,” Clove says immediately. “Rawlins isn’t big enough for a firebug asshole with anger issues.”
“Why did he firebomb the dirty cop’s house?” I ask without looking at Clove. “Is he nuts or was he making a point?”
Joker glances at his enforcers and shrugs again. “The cop roughed up a hooker. Bad too. She lost an eye, I think. Since Hazard and the hooker went to the same elementary school, he took her beating personally. I think the only reason he didn’t kill the cop was out of respect for Trigger.”
“No good deed,” Clove mutters. “Can I once again say how happy I am that Trigger was tortured before his death?”
“Amen to that,” Joker says, leaning back in his chair. “So do you think you can make room for Hazard in your mini-club down south?”
Remaining non-committal, I only shrug. “Oz will let you know.”
“It’s too bad he didn’t come up himself,” Joker says and gives a quick glance to Madden.
“No one wants to visit this fucking place,” Clove growls. “Especially not a recently married man with kids and joy in his life. It’s like asking him to swim in an unflushed toilet.”
Joker laughs. “Aww, you miss it here, Clove.”
“Fuck your mother, Joker, and don’t forget to leave her cab fare.”
Joker lets out a loud chuckle. “I swear if you weren’t sleeping with old Glitch here, I’d think you were coming on to me. You ought to keep in mind, though, that I’m faithful to my old lady. If not, she and my ex-wife will join forces to cut off my balls.”
“One for each of them,” Clove says and steps back. “That’s why God made two.”
“A few of my guys will be eating at City by Night around eight. You two should drop by and enjoy the fish tacos.”
“We’ll think about it,” Clove says and taps my shoulder. “Let’s ditch these guys and head to the hotel.”
Silently following Clove out of the bar and to our Harleys, I struggle to keep my temper in check. We don’t share a single word on the drive. I tell myself to stay cool with Clove. She is only trying to help.
No inner pep talk can keep my anger from boiling over by the time we reach the parking lot of the Holiday Inn. Based on her relaxed expression, Clove has no idea what’s coming.