Page 83 of Idaho

"I'll go," Toxic offered, and Butcher nodded, indicating his interest.

"Thanks, but we'd rather not piss off the Grand Duke of Luxembourg," Lock said in a wry tone.

"Static. You're with us tonight. Toxic, Butcher, Ricochet, you're on guard duty. The rest of you, keep an eye out, but take the night off."

"What are we doing about Fremont?" Butcher asked.

"As long as he doesn't continue to fuck with us, we're putting him on the back burner again. Our conversation with Powell should have shut him down," Lock replied.

"We're going to have to deal with him sooner or later," I said.

"You want to deal with Krier, right?" Lock asked, his tone cold.

"Yeah."

"Then Fremont will have to wait until we have the fucking time for him."

"Sure thing, Prez," I told him, holding my hands up in surrender.

Lock shook his head, his temper right at the surface. He still hadn't cooled down enough from earlier. "You have your orders," he told everyone, expecting us all to leave. Smoke's voice made us all pause.

I think there's one more piece of business to discuss," Smoke said with a wink toward Lock.

"Do it and I'll have you scrubbing the bar bathrooms alongside the prospects for a month," Lock warned.

Smoke tilted his head, considering whether that punishment was worth spilling the news about Lock spanking and kissing Keely in a public place.

"For a year," Lock growled, watching Smoke as though he was going to kill the younger man.

That shut Smoke up. After cleaning those bathrooms for two weeks, I understood why. You were lucky if someone hadn't puked everywhere when you came in to clean the next morning, but even then, the men who frequented the establishment didn't leave it smelling like roses.

Smoke sat back with a pout on his face, crossing his arms over his chest, as if that was the only way to contain the secret.

I waited until everyone filed out of the meeting room. Static gave me a questioning look, but I motioned for him to go. As soon as we were left alone, I sat back down on my brother's right hand side.

"I'm not in the mood, Idaho."

Like I didn't know that. There wasn't much I didn't know about him, despite years of not seeing him. "Thanks for going tonight."

"You're representing my club tonight," he warned. "I'm not about to let you go and fuck it up." He met my stare. "Don't fuck it up, Levi."

"Wouldn't dream of it. You forget I'm a fucking businessman. I know how to be polite and politically-fucking-correct."

"So I've heard," he muttered.

"You want to talk about it?"

"About what?"

I ignored the threat in the words and continued talking. "About her."

"No."

"Fine," I said. "We can talk about something else."

"Why?"

"We'll talk about us," I said, ignoring his petulant question.