“Are any bars even open?” Grandma Callie asked.
It looked like even the oldies were planning on going out. I looked over at Grandpa Grease, Casper, and my dad, who’d finished their plates and were discussing God knew what at the edge of the group. None of them looked like they cared whether we went out or went home to sleep, they were just along for the ride.
“They’d never close down,” Rose assured her mom. “Everything else shut down, so it’s the perfect time for a bar to stay open.”
“You wanna go?” Draco asked me, grabbing my empty plate and stacking it on top of his.
“Do you?” I asked.
“Might be fun,” he said with a shrug.
I knew he’d do whatever I wanted to do, but I wondered how often he’d had a night like this since he’d been out. From what I’d seen, he’d stayed pretty close to home for the most part. There’d been parties at the club—there were always parties at the club—but he and Curtis hadn’t really maintained any friendships with people we’d known as kids. Had he even gone out since he’d been old enough to do it?
“Sure, we can go,” I told him.
I was too relaxed to feel any apprehension, even though normally I would’ve avoided going to a bar in town.
I didn’t even see it coming.
Chapter 12
Draco
Rose was right—the bar was open and packed to capacity when we got there. Lucky for them, I was sure the fire marshals had enough on their hands and wouldn’t be stopping by.
I laughed as Rose strode up to the bar like she owned the place, and a few minutes later, a couple of tables near the back magically opened up for us. I’d been out a few times with my brother, but it wasn’t nearly the experience that going out with this group was. The women were loud and rowdy as we ordered drinks, but the guys weren’t. If anything, they seemed hyper alert to our surroundings.
Huh. It wasn’t just me that felt a little boxed in.
“You’ll get used to it,” Grease said, handing me a beer. He hadn’t waited for the waitress to take our orders, just gone up and got a round of beers himself.
“Yeah?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine getting used to the amount of people we had surrounding us.
“Once you realize that none of these people even want to acknowledge our existence—” he paused with a beer halfway to his mouth as a woman walked by, looking him up and down. His eyes shot to Callie, who was oblivious. “The men don’t, at least,” he finished with amusement.
“It’s easier at the club,” I replied, taking a drink of my own beer. I hadn’t had anything at Lily’s but I was allowing myself one at the bar. I wasn’t about to get pulled over for some reason and end up back in jail for a DUI when I was still on parole.
“Hell,” Grease said with a grin. “Everythin’ is easier at home.”
“You grab me one?” Gramps Casper asked, taking one of the beers from Grease. “I doubt we’ll be here long. Farrah already looks ready to pass out.”
“Good, she needed to let off some steam. Just make sure she pukes before you bring her in the house,” Grease ordered.
“I’ll smoke with her on the porch when we get back,” Gramps replied. “It’ll keep her from pukin’.”
“No shit?” I asked.
“Works every time,” Gramps said with a grin. “Pot settles her stomach and her head. Falls right asleep.”
“Good to know,” I replied.
“Don’t see Kara partyin’ that hard,” Grease said in amusement, looking over at her.
Kara was laughing at something someone had said, but compared to the other women at the table, she looked almost sober.
“Hell, I meant for me,” I joked, making them both laugh.
“You think about prospectin’?” Grease asked after a few minutes. “You’ve been cagey.”
“Not sure yet,” I said cautiously. I wasn’t sure it was even possible to burn bridges with this crowd—I was considered part of the family—but I didn’t want to make it harder on myself if I did decide to become a prospect. If I said I didn’t want to and then changed my mind, they’d never let me live it down.
“What’s holdin’ you back?” my gramps asked.
“Bein’ a prospect after Curt gets his patch,” I muttered.
Grease laughed.
“That’s not all it is,” Gramps said, watching me closely. “What else?”
I shrugged. “Not sure workin’ on cars is what I wanna do,” I said quietly. It was the equivalent of telling them I wasn’t interested in the family business, and it was the first time I’d actually said it out loud.
“That’s all?” Gramps said in surprise.
“That’s not enough?” I asked.
“Hell, bud,” Grease said, shaking his head. “You don’t gotta work in the garage.”
“I barely do,” Gramps pointed out. “Pitch in here and there, but I mostly do the books with your ma.”