Gavin dropped his cigarette butt onto the ground and snubbed it out with the toe of his shoe. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he sauntered toward the Harley.
“Let me know how you like it,” he said.
Smokey had spent thousands of dollars customizing his bike, right down to the nuts and bolts that held it together. The latest design was a mural of demons at a poker game he’d had done at Hawk’s bike repair shop. The VP worked alongside a few local artists with whom he contracted, and the end result was kick-ass.
“So who’s this chick you’re ragging Gavin about?” Smokey asked.
“Some volunteer.” He cocked his head toward Gavin. “He’s got it bad for her. Me? I prefer chicks around my age.”
Smokey glanced over at Gavin, who was squatting on his haunches, looking at the Harley’s fender. “Oh yeah? How old’s this volunteer?”
He shrugged. “I dunno—maybe twenty-six or so? I caught him writing her name—Ashley—in a notebook.”
His eyes widened.“What color hair does she have?”
“Black, with blue eyes. The chick’s a real looker, but like I said, I like them younger.” Little Ricky took out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to him. Smokey shook his headno, and the teen took one out and lit it up.
No fuckin’ way—it can’t be. She’s not the only woman in town named Ashley with black hair. And blue eyes? Fuck, what are the chances of that?
“It’s real cool,” Gavin told Smokey, interrupting his thoughts.
“It’s awesome,” Smokey replied as he walked over to him.
“I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.”
“We gotta change that.”
Gavin straightened up and met his gaze. “Cool. Uh … maybe I could—I mean, if it’s allowed—check out your club?” The teen looked down at the ground. “Maybe someday?”
“I can ask the president about it. I’ll let you know when we can take that ride,” Smokey said. He knew Banger wouldn’t let a fifteen-year-old come around the clubhouse, but he didn’t have the heart to tell the kid that. The club didn’t need the feds accusing them of corrupting a minor. Once Gavin hit seventeen, he could come by, and if he liked what he saw, he could start prospecting.
A car honking dragged his attention away from Gavin to a silver Audi pulling into a parking space.
Gavin murmured, “I have to go,” then strode away, disappearing into the building.
“I didn’t know you were coming by,” Brady said as he slid out of his car.
Smokey crossed the parking lot. “Just stopped by to see the kids.”
Brady slammed the car door shut and waved for Smokey to follow him. “It looked like you and Gavin were having a conversation. That’s huge.”
“Yeah, he’s a good kid. What’s going on with his mom?”
“She’s still in rehab. I have little hope that she’ll stay clean. She’s been through this many times.”
“Does Gavin get along with her?”
“Who knows? He’s not real open with his feelings. Most of the residents have problematic relationships with their parents. I just try to keep them safe and in school.” Brady opened the building’s back door and gestured for Smokey to go through. “What’s going on with you?”
“Busy as hell. I could use some help on a couple of my construction projects. I thought I’d ask Gavin if he wanted to make some extra money.” Smokey turned into the director’s office, and plopped down into the chair in front of Brady’s desk. “Would you have a problem with that?”
“No. I think it would be good for him. It’d also get him away from some of the teasing Little Ricky and Five Dime have been laying on him.”
“Yeah. Little Ricky started that shit up when I was with them in the smoking corner.” Leaning back, he rested his ankle on his knee. “It seems like Gavin’s got a crush on some volunteer.”
“It appears so. I’ve talked to the boys about giving it a rest, but you know how useless that is.”
“Little Ricky told me her name is Ashley. Does she have a last name?” For a split second, he saw malice in Brady’s eyes, but then it was gone.