Ride Steady (Chaos, #3)(75)

“Yeah, me and her and her ex who’s suddenly interested in reconnecting,” Joker muttered.

“Now that shit’s yours,” High declared, lifting a hand and stabbing a finger Joker’s way. “Word is he’s done her wrong in a way he’s not a man. You take care of your babies even if your ex is a bitch and you gotta do it through her. You eat that shit for your kids. His ex ain’t a bitch and he’s eatin’ model * and hangin’ his baby momma out to dry. Her ex is not a man, you’ll have no problem takin’ him down however that needs to be done.”

“Carissa isn’t the type of girl who would dig the way a biker would make his point by pissin’ around his patch,” Joker pointed out.

“That’s not what I mean,” High replied. “What I mean is, not a lotta woman want a limp dick in their bed, no matter the way that limp dick comes, he’s rollin’ in it or whatever. You are not that man. She sees that, she’ll put up with him because her kid shares his blood, but that’s all he’ll be to her. You man up for her and her kid, you’ll be the rest.”

He hoped like f*ck that High was right. About all of it.

His phone in his back pocket rang and when it did, High asked, “You good?”

There it was. That was it.

His brotherhood.

That was why he joined. That was what he wanted.

It was just that, until recently, he hadn’t availed himself of all they could give.

Another f*ck-up that he wouldn’t perpetrate again.

“Good, High. Thanks, brother,” Joker murmured, pulling his phone out of his jeans.

“Right, then later,” High returned and took off.

Joker looked at his phone, took the call, and put it to his ear.

“Tack.”

“Yo, Joke. Lee called in. Got a lock on your Robinson.”

Joker moved to his dresser, where there was now a bowl with his change in it. Change that used to be scattered everywhere, even on the floor.

He grinned and replied, “What’d he give you?”

“Teacher, like you said he was before. A high school in Highlands Ranch. Tenured. Married. Pays his taxes. Five years into his current mortgage—”

Joker cut him off. “I dig that Nightingale was thorough, but I don’t need to know that kinda shit.”

“Clue me in. What do you need?” Tack asked.

“He got a family?”

“Married. Once and still. They been that way for eleven years,” Tack told him.

“No kids?”

“Lee didn’t mention kids.”

“I’ll call Lee.”

There was a pause before, “Got it.”

“And Tack?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, grabbing his wallet and shoving it in his back pocket, loading the chain onto his belt.

“Anything, Joke,” Tack muttered back and disconnected.

Joker picked up his keys, shrugged on his cut, and moved to the door, his attention back to his phone, his thumb moving to Nightingale’s contact.

He listened to the rings long enough he figured he’d get voicemail before Lee answered on, “Joke.”

“Lee. Callin’ for some follow up on Robinson,” Joker told him.

“What do you need?” Lee asked.

“He got kids?”

“Nope.”

Fuck.

“How thorough were you?” Joker pushed.

“How thorough are we usually?”

He had everything.

“I know he and his wife lost a baby eight years ago. Wanna know where that led.”

“They’re still married.”

“Need more, Lee,” Joker said quietly. Having walked through the building, he was pushing through the front door to the Compound.

“Retained enough to report to Tack. Don’t know specifics of the file. I’m out of the office. Hang on, I’ll patch in Shirleen.”

Shirleen was Nightingale’s receptionist, and Shirleen used to be one half of a formidable aunt and nephew team that dealt dope in Denver. Shirleen and her nephew pulling out of that shit years ago opened it up for Valenzuela to wreak havoc.

Regardless of the consequences, it took balls, huge ones, for Shirleen to do that. He’d met her. He liked her. Because of that and because she was f*cking hilarious, said it like it was, and had been a cold-as-ice drug dealer that hid a heart of gold, a heart she let shine now, it was impossible not to like her.

Suddenly Shirleen piped in. “This better be good. My nails are wet.”

“Shirleen. Got Joker on the line. Need you to pull up the Robinson file,” Lee ordered.

“You’re lucky clickin’ on my mouse don’t mess up my new manicure,” she muttered.

Joker stopped by his bike and grinned at his boots.

“File up, need direction,” Shirleen stated.

“Medical records. The wife,” Lee told her.

“What am I lookin’ for?” she asked.

“Babies,” Joker told her.

“Scanned the file already, son. Man’s got no babies,” Shirleen confirmed unnecessarily.

“Attempts at getting them,” Joker clarified.

“Oh. Right. Hang on.”

Joker waited.