Prodigal Son(32)

I pulled the phone from my pocket and was relieved to see two texts from Krystal.

I’m fine. Got home late and fell asleep right away. Sorry I forgot to txt you.

Sorry about the f-ed up mess last night. I need to figure some things out. It was good to see you.

I thought for a second before I answered.

Glad U R ok. Call me if you need anything.

I hoped she’d take me up on it. I hated the thought of that little prick hurting her, but there really wasn’t much I could do about it.

“I might as well have a beer,” I said out loud.

“Are you talking to yourself?” Joker asked, looking back at me from halfway across the street.

“Yeah. I do it all the time,” I answered with a grin. “I can’t help it.”

“Your mother does the same thing. Drives me crazy, especially when she tells me it’s the only way she can have an intelligent conversation.”

I laughed and thought about how strange it was that I had something in common with Sable even though we’d never met before yesterday. Funny thing, genetics.

Jimmy held the door open to the casino and I followed Joker inside, nearly tripping because the dark was such a contrast to the bright sunshine outside.

“Goddamn, I love a dark bar in the middle of the day. All those poor fuckers working for a living today don’t know what they’re missing,” Jimmy laughed as he followed us inside.

We made our way through a sea of slot machines and video poker players and found the bar.

“Gypsy here?” Joker asked the bartender.

He looked us over as if he was deciding how to answer the question … or perhaps whether to answer it at all. He nodded, set down the glass he was polishing, and picked up a phone from behind the bar. He replaced the handset. “She’ll be right down. Get you a drink, gentlemen?”

“Three Crown Royals and three Coors Light longnecks,” Joker answered, not bothering to consult us.

Three generous shots and three cold beers appeared on the bar, and just after we’d slammed the whiskey, a woman dressed in what looked like old-fashioned saloon garb approached us.

She walked up to Joker, threw both arms around his neck and kissed him on the mouth. I’d expected the kiss to be a brief one, but it didn’t end until Jimmy cleared his throat and interrupted it.

“Cool it, or get a fuckin’ room, you two,” he said. “Good to see you, Gypsy.”

“You too, Jimmy,” she said, slipping her arm around Joker’s back. She looked me up and down. “And who do we have here?” she asked, her voice betraying her interest in me.

“Baby, this here’s my son, Luke,”

“Well, my goodness, I didn’t know you had a son,” Gypsy said, extending her hand.

“Neither did I,” Joker laughed as Gypsy and I shook hands.

“Well, if there’s anything you need — anything at all — while you’re here, you just let me know, and I’ll take the very best care of you, Luke.”

Gypsy’s forte was not subtlety.

She led us upstairs to a private room in a hall of closed doors. It looked like the upstairs of an old-time brothel, and I suspect that was, in fact, what I was really looking at. A small bar covered the back wall, and the windows were shuttered from the inside, letting in some natural light from the top, but obscuring the view inside for any curious folks outside on the street. There were several gaming tables in the room, and two poker games were underway. Gypsy led us to a table.

“Dutch is the bartender, and he’s gonna take real good care of y’all. Anything you want, he’ll get it for you. If you want to play some poker, just let me know and I’ll get it set up.” She looked toward the door and waved over a young lady standing in the doorway. “This here’s Clara, and she’ll bring you some lunch and anything else your little hearts desire.” She took a seat on Joker’s lap. “And I’m all yours for as long as you require me, boys.”

I was pretty sure I was in Heaven.

***

Over the course of the afternoon, I had more drinks than I probably should have, got my ass handed to me in a game of Hold ‘Em, and successfully fended off Clara’s attentions. She seemed really interested in me, but since I figured that her favors came with an hourly charge, I wasn’t terribly flattered. After the poker game was over, Joker asked Gypsy to have some lunch sent up to us, and he sent her away for a bit so that he could talk to us.

“What’s on your mind?” Jimmy asked once we had some privacy.

“Well, I want to bounce some ideas off you both.”

I was perplexed, unsure why he’d want my opinion on anything, especially since it seemed like the only things Joker really cared about were the MC (which I knew little about,) bikes (which I knew even less about,) and having a good time (which I heartily endorsed.)