“Zero fucks to give what the fuck you resent, fuckhead.” Kendall stepped aside so Symphony could set the drinks on the table, then dug into the pocket of her fur coat and held her keyfob out to the waitress. “I have a stack of business cards in my glove compartment. Get them and pass them out.”
Symphony dried her hands on her apron, then grabbed the fob and rushed away.
“I need to set up an expense account for fuckheads and assholes,” Kendall grumbled, glaring between them. “I wonder how muchthiswill cost to clean up.”
“Kendall—”
“Move over,” she interrupted Digger, shoving next to him. She snatched napkins from the silver holder and held the stack out to him. “Wipe the blood from your fucking lip.”
Once Symphony returned and handed out the cards, Kendall said to the patrons, “Call me tomorrow. A thousand dollars for each person here as long as you sign an NDA and develop amnesia about this incident.”
Sanity was returning to Mort and, with it, the enormity of what he’d done. He’d never lost fucking control and put himself or the club at risk.
“I’ll ask Outlaw to have Stretch review the footage,” she continued. “To see if anyone left since this began.”
“If they did, then we fucked,” Digger grouched.
Symphony handed Kendall the fob and the leftover business cards.
“Thank you, hun,” she said, smiling at Symphony. “How’ve you been?”
“Fine,” she said. “You’re married to Johnnie, aren’t you?”
Mort went on alert at the question. He didn’t know if Symphony was fishing for herself or because she wanted to make small talk.
Kendall nodded.
“I haven’t called him back about the footage from the other night with Diesel and that guy.”
“I’ve been sitting my fucking ass here for almost two goddamn hours and you just mentioning it now?” Mortician demanded.
“Please get some pussy, Mort,” Digger snapped. “You the grouchiest motherfucker ever ‘cause your cock so ignored.”
“Motherfucker–”
“You’re a fucking disrespectful asshole,” Kendall interjected, glaring at Digger. “If there wasn’t so many witnesses, I would’ve let Mort kill you. Now, shut the fuck up and stop talking about his wife.” She looked at Symphony, ignoring the hungry look she gave Mort. “You were here when Diesel got into his fight?”
“Uh, yeah,” Symphony admitted, dragging her smoldering gaze from Mort.
“What happened?” Kendall asked.
“He told me to go in the back when that dude walked in.”
“Who picked the footage?” Kendall demanded. “You or Tee?”
“Me.”
“Then you know what the fuck’s on it, Symphony. Who started the fight?”
Instead of stalling any further, Symphony answered Kendall and told them the events of that evening and the work she’d had to do to clean up all the blood.
“Get the footage,” Kendall instructed. “I’ll bring it to Johnnie.”
“Okay.” She started to turn.
“Oh, and hun?”
“Yes, Kendall?” she asked politely, throwing Mort another come hither look.
