Chapter 8
Fox
Ishould have listened to Nitro’s advice. As soon as I saw Pops veering into fuckery territory with his so-called plan, I should have, in no uncertain terms, made him cancel that plan. If I had done that then I would not have seen a grown man piss his pants.
“Oh dear, excuse me love, do you mind pointing us in the direction of the bathroom? My client here has soiled himself,” Mad Dog asks my favourite receptionist Barb, in sickeningly sweet tones while holding Pops by the elbow.
“Let me go you fat, diabetic bastard,” Pops argues, trying to wrestle himself out of Mad Dog’s grip.
“Ignore him, sweetheart, he has the dementia,” Mad Dog says through slightly gritted teeth, trying to keep his boots out of the way of Pops’ dripping chinos.
Great, they’re playing the “crazy old man with a carer” routine. I hate when they do that.
“Oh certainly, just down the hall there. Does he, ah, does he need a change of clothing?” Barb asks.
“Don’t worry Barb, I’ll take care of it,” Nitro says, stepping past me.
Barb’s shoulders relax, as she realizes someone has a handle on this. And probably because she doesn’t have to deal with a belligerent old man with piss in his pants.
“Follow me, gentlemen,” I say, following Nitro’s fine ass as he stalks toward the locker room ahead of us as Mad Dog calls Pops a “filthy fucker” under his breath.
Coming to a stop in front of the staff locker rooms I wait until Nitro gives me a nod, letting me know that the coast is clear. For now, anyway.
Pops and Mad Dog tumble inside after me, pushing and shoving. Mad Dog has Pops in a headlock until Pops jabs him in the kidney.
“Get off me, Diabetes Boy!”
“I’m not telling you again, I don’t have diabetes, Pissy Pants.”
“Hey, if it works, it works,” Pops says, arms out wide, grin on his face.
Nitro runs a hand down his face, “I can’t believe you pissed your pants.”
“Was it an accident or was it on purpose? You’ll never know,” Pops says with a wink, before his face turns serious. “So, where is my change of clothes?” he gives us a wide eyed look, so on silent feet I head toward the locker Moss has marked.
Looking around for anything out of place, I spot the bug in the worst fucking place in the world.
A fucking blind man could have seen that.
Shaking my head I point up at the lip that runs around the top of the locker, Pops tips his head back, a smirk on his face as he winks at Mad Dog, who grins back.
He opens an empty locker door, then slams the thing shut hard enough to make Nitro jump.
“What the fuck?” Nitro mutters.
Pops flips the bird at him, head tilted and his eyes on the bug. He pulls out his phone, messages someone, most likely Chewy before putting it on the bench beside him.
“You boys ever get one of them spots that look like Jesus?” Pops asks, slowly unbuttoning his chinos. “I swear this fucker keeps winking at me. Where’s my pants asshole?” he growls at Nitro, letting his drop with a wet slap on the floor.
Nitro tosses them at him, “What the fuck are you on about old man?”
“Jesus, our lord and savior. I got a spot that looks juuust like him. I’ll show ya but it’ll cost ya,” his eyes twinkle as he stands on the bench, closer to where the Dropmire bug is poorly hidden. “It’s on my thigh, can ya see it?”
“Holy fuck, that does look kinda like Jesus,” Mad Dog shuffles forward for a closer look.
“Told ya,” Pops says, fiddling with something in his hands.
He holds it up close to the bug and almost immediately his phone buzzes with a notification. I don’t even need to lean forward to see what it says. He has the text size so fucking big you could read it from the moon.
Dayz: We got a heartbeat.
He nods once, sticking whatever the fuck he was fiddling with on the top of the locker. “I told you it does! Wait, lemme get these off…” he wriggles a little, hands going to his waist, and before I know it his boxers are off, flung across the room with a wet slap.
“Fucking hell man!” Mad Dog growls, moving so quickly across the room to get away from Pops old junk, now flapping in the breeze.
“Don’t be a fucking baby! It’s just a cock and balls. Oh, and Jesus. Watch this!”
Pops does some bobbing bending movements, bouncing up and down a little.
“Huh, it does kinda look like Jesus is winking at me,” Nitro says, head tilted to the side, not at all bothered by the elderly man twerking his naked ass in front of us.
The door slams open, bouncing off the wall, all our heads snapping toward it.
“What the fuuu-” Hitchens stands there momentarily stunned.
His eyes take in me and Nitro in our uniforms before moving toward Pops, standing on the bench, naked from the waist down, frozen mid twerk.
“You!”
“You!” Pops growls back at him.
Hitchens recovers fast, shaking his head once before pulling his cuffs, “Sidney Tombs there is a warrant out for your arrest. I’m taking you in.”
“I’m already in, you blind dipshit!” Pops taunts before his eyes go wide, snapping to me, “Shit! Call the girls! Not any of my grandsons, they’ll give me a lecture. Get the girl gang down here, they know what to do.”
“Why the fuck does he have a warrant?” Nitro growls, moving closer to Pops.
“Take your fucking pick, I have a complaint sheet as long as my arm,” Hitchens replies, grabbing and slapping the cuffs on Pops, not even bothering to let him cover himself.
Nitro holds Pops’ sweatpants out for him, but Pops shakes his head.
“Don’t worry about it son, let ole Hitchens here deal with my naked ass. It’ll give him something to aspire to.” He turns slightly. “That’s right, I’ve seen you at the gym working out. You couldn’t squat for a dick if gravity took a day off,” he spits over his shoulder.
I roll my lips between my teeth trying to cover my snort as Nitro turns his body to face the corner, shoulders shaking.
“Give him hell, Pops!” Mad Dog calls, a grin on his face before it slowly slips. “Shit. Who wants to call the girl gang?”
Fuck. Things are about to get a lot more chaotic in here.
Jasmine
“You feeling any better?” Vi asks me, juggling Juno in her lap.
“Yep. Moss relieved me of aunt duties last night and I got to spend the evening rotting. Then a sleep in today as school is closed, well, obviously,” I say, waving toward Elio and the other Big Littles in a booth on the other side of the diner.
It’s not often school closes, but we all got a pleasant, or unpleasant if you’re the janitor, surprise today.
All the plumbing is backed up and given the special needs we cater for at school, not only physical needs but also high health needs, school was closed.
And I took that to mean more time to laze in bed before meeting the girl gang for brunch.
“Have you not been feeling well?” Lovely asks, her big doe eyes full of concern.
“I would hazard a guess you’re running yourself down. Have you thought about maximizing your down time and using it for stress release and relaxation?” Chewy asks without looking in my direction.
“Ah, yeah I’ve tried it a couple of times,” I mumble while Vi snorts at my answer.
“I would imagine that’s a lie. You’re a teacher so you’ll be busy and underpaid and undervalued. I would think that is somewhat stressful,” Chewy adds, handing her daughter Laney a piece of muffin. “Have you thought about going to one of those smash rooms?”
I stare at the top of Chewy’s head as she’s bent helping her daughter.
I have no idea what she is talking about.
Whatever it is is completely different to the advice I thought she was going to give me.
I had braced myself for meditation, yoga or even the spiel about gut health and my diet.
Instead Chewy offers something very Chewy.
“Huh?”
Ana grins, “Oohhh those are fun! We should organize a girl gang visit!”
All the women start nodding, and it’s Remy that takes in my blank stare, “Chewy is talking about those places where you pay to go into a room with a hammer or a baseball bat and just hit things.”
My brows pull in. “You just…hit things?”
“Yup,” Nat answers. “Glass bottles, old TV’s, framed pictures of ex boyfriends, that sort of thing.”
“It’s really perfect for stress relief. And if all else fails I guess you could go in one of those floaty tank things,” Kaia shrugs.
Before I can ask more questions about hitting things with baseball bats, almost every girl gang member’s phone starts going off with notifications.
“What in the world,” Lovely mutters under her breath.
“Oh Mama Debs is gonna be pissed,” Blanche says, a wide grin stretching her face.
“Everything will be fine, ladies,” Mira soothes. “I’ve been in the Rose Grove holding cells loads of times, they’re really quite nice there.”
My brows raise as I share a look with my sister who snorts in reply.
“What? I will never knock the RGPD cells. That’s how I met my Tank.” She goes all moony eyed and Chewy screws her face up.
Everyone’s phone goes off once more, the women all picking them up simultaneously before laughing.
I try not to feel a slight pang of envy.
All of these women may have come together because of their men, but they have all found a really tight friendship with each other too.
I mean, I have friends, but they all happen to be my sisters.
All two of them. Thanks to Vi both Lily and I are honorary girl gang members, but in moments like these, I remember I’m still not quite one of the cool kids.
I’m not fun and carefree like everyone else.
I can’t really cultivate close friend groups where I get out every week night to meet up for drinks or dinner.
I have to ration what energy I have, meaning I spend a lot of time on my couch, safe and sound away from any and all excitement.
I just wish, not for the first time, that I didn’t have lupus always there, nipping at my heels.
Reminding me to eat well, to rest, to not overexert myself.
Great, now I’ve worked myself up into a funk. I move to stand, gathering my things, “I better let you guys sort out whatever club business is happening.”
“Whoa, nope, if we have to head down to the station to get Pops out of whatever mess he’s found himself in, then you’re coming with.” Vi beams at me, Mira and Kaia nodding their heads like bobbleheads.
“Um, I’m not sure I’ll be needed,” I murmur.
“Of course you’re not needed,” Chewy says, Laney on her hip as she throws her backpack full of toddler learning supplies over her shoulder. “But I doubt you have anything else to do today so you may as well come and enjoy the show.”
“How do you know it’ll be a show?” Kaia asks. Judge’s woman is still new to the group, but that hasn’t stopped her fitting in like she’s been friends with them all since childhood.
“Oh, it’ll be a show. I’ve just messaged Wire’s mom,” Remy replies with a twinkle in her eye.
“Why Wire’s mom?” I ask, seriously confused about what’s going on. All I can tell is that Pops is at RGPD and we have to rally.
“Oh, you’ll soon see why I called Wire’s mom.” Remy answers.
Chewy’s cackle takes me by surprise, as do the grins of the other women.
Nat raises her finger in the air and circles it like Marx does when they all ride out.
I get swept into a wave of badass women and the Big Littles and we stomp our way down the street, six stores down to be exact, to the Rose Grove Police Department building that resides on the corner.
I jump when Chewy kicks the door open, Laney-May still balanced expertly on her hip.
“OK Po-Po, where’s my grandpa?”