1
Gunz
With my ass on the couch, I sit back and twirl a Dum Dum in my mouth as I watch the current shitshow play out.
“We are not having another birthday party for Leech, Sugar Tits,” Big growls at his old lady and the entire group of Sacred Sisters, my woman included. Oh, he can try to shut this shit down, but when these women get an idea, no matter how fuckin’ insane, there’s no way of puttin’ a stop to it. Big needs to pick his battles. You’d think he’d know better than to square up in the fuckin’ clubhouse of all places with almost every sister present. Dumb move, brother, dumb fuckin’ move.
Bink, God love the woman, snorts derisively at her man. She steps out of the lineup of sisters and gets right in his face. Well, his chest, where she stabs a polished finger between his pecs. The fucker glares down at her, nostrils flaring.
Jez barks a laugh.
Leaving them to duke it out, Kit exits stage left and drops beside me on the couch. I hook her leg over mine to keep usconnected, then reach into my cut for another Dum Dum. ’Cause I’m a good husband, I unwrap it for her before pressing the sugary ball to her lips, which she accepts with a gracious smile.
“I should’ve brought popcorn,” she mumbles around the sucker stick.
“I warned you.” Last night, Kit said they were gonna use the group dynamic to convince Big to have a legit birthday party for Leech, knowin’ damn well he ain’t keen on elaborate parties. Sure, booze and hangin’ with the brothers works, as there’s no real effort involved. The club whores and sisters almost always supply food and entertainment on those nights. Anything that requires glitter or decorations, and he’s puttin’ his foot down.
“I know ya did,” Kit says. “He’s such a dick sometimes. It’s just a party for his daughter. If I wanted to throw six birthdays for Adam this year, you’d be fine with it.”
That’s true, but I’m also not Big. “Yeah. I would,” I agree. “But it is almost Christmas, and we’re still at war. Not the best time to throw a second birthday party.”
“It was her first birthday, Erik. We missed it on account of my living in a warehouse.”
That’s also true.
I playfully nudge Kit with my shoulder, so she knows I’m not bein’ an asshole. “I’m not arguin’ with ya, love. I get it. It was her first birthday. We missed it. But this ain’t about us. It’s about Leech. They got a cake for her. She opened presents. It wasn’t the party Bink wanted, but she didn’t go without. She’s one. There will be more birthdays to celebrate.”
“Sooo,”Kit drawls.I can practically hear her eyes roll intothe back of her skull without havin’ to check. “You’re saying you think this is a stupid idea.”
That’s not what I’m sayin’ at all.
“I think when Bink wants somethin’, Bink gets it,” I explain evenly. “Does it matter what I think?”
“Oh.” Kit huffs. “You’re playin’ that card, huh, mister?”
“Yep.” Ipopthe Dum Dum from my maw and point the half-eaten ball at the line of women. “I’m not meddlin’ in sister shit. Y’all work it out. I’ll attend whatever. Doesn’t matter to me.”
“Celebrating with her doesn’t matter to you?”
Oh. This woman is fiery today.
“Of course, it does. Don’t get that twisted. I’m gonna celebrate Christmas with our grandbaby and every other holiday. We just had Thanksgiving, love. Another party seems a bit much, don’t ya think?”
Kit lifts and drops a single shoulder as if she doesn’t know how to reply. That mind of hers is likely runnin’ a million miles an hour, playing all the scenarios, trying to piece together the best outcome, as women do. Well, my woman. “I’m not a party planner, but I wanna help,” she explains. “Another could be fun.” Kit shrugs again and sucks harder on her Dum Dum, hollowing out her cheeks as she stares off into space, overthinking.
Giving Kit time to work shit out on her own, I massage her kneecap in silent support as I dial back into the Big and Bink spat. It’s a doozy, as it always is. Add in the wall of sisters still holding their own, and fuel has been dumped on this fire.
“Do you want to dress up as the Mad Hatter?” Bink asks Big as if he’s already relented.
Big rolls his shoulders as he flexes and unflexeshis fingers down at his sides. “I’m not dressing up for shit, Sugar Tits.” His tone holds a warning. The kind that communicates don’t-fuckin’-push me.
Per usual, Bink does what she always does and refuses to back down. “Then we agree to have anAlice and Wonderland-themed unbirthday for our daughter, and you won’t have to dress up.” The woman sings all happy-go-lucky and shit. Not at all payin’ a lick of attention to her old man’s rising agitation. Well, she is, but she’s pretending not to.
I snicker at Bink’s masterful negotiating skills. Though, Big sees right through the bullshit. “Ha. Ha. Good try. I didn’t say that. I said, no party,” he counters.
“Would you like to speak about this in private?” Bink bats those long, makeup-coated lashes at her old man, once again making me wanna clap at her goddamn brilliance. She knows how to play him like a fiddle. Just as he knows how to play her. This back-and-forth banter has been happenin’ since she learned to talk. We taught her well. Hit ‘em where it hurts the most. Play your cards right. Don’t take no for an answer. Too bad this often comes back to bite us in the ass.
“Hell fuckin’ no.” Shakin’ his head, Big takes a hefty step away from his lady. “That’ll land us in more shit. Your pussy in my mouth, agreeing to anything you fuckin’ say. Everyone here heard me saynogoddamn party. We’ve had enough of ‘em, and there are more to come with Christmas and New Year's. Focus on those, Sugar Tits. Yeah?”
