The news Lola delivered was definitely groundbreaking. According to Caleb's crew, they all were under the assumption that, if anything, the Nines were only small time dealers on little more than street level. That gave them an advantage over the Nine's in the sense that they distributed and were able to control drugs from going on ninth street and further. Whatever they were beginning to transport or traffic could have a major impact on Caleb's business.

Instead of letting himself get upset over, he nodded as he listened, taking sips of his whiskey. Lola's comment over not being just a pretty face snapped him out of the trance-like state the information put him in.

He smirked as he side-eyed her. "We'll see," he spoke quietly in a gravelly voice.  He waved down the bartender and ordered another whiskey, which he slammed down quickly. 

"I woulda talked to Smith if he was at the reception. I planned on it. I don't know why he didn't show." Caleb wasn't sure if he was explaining this to her or just talking to himself, but he continued. "With whatever Jack is putting into the works, and now that he's under the assumption you're with me, you're a target. An easy target. [i]No offense.[/i]" He grinned. "I know staying at my place as been pretty uneventful, but it's in your best interest for now. At least until we take care of the Nines. If you got hurt, it'd be 'cause I got you involved. I don't wanna have that shit on my conscious. I already got enough." 

Caleb rolled his shoulders to relieve some of the tension he was feeling and sighed before returning to his partially slumped position. "I'll find a way to get your shit from your house."