Right?
I’m going to apply at the strip club. I need money, and Dad won’t be able to find me.
I call for another Uber and give her the address. It takes about thirty minutes to get there. I get out of the Uber and look around. I don’t know if it’s open. I’ll wait at the back door.
Thank God I ate breakfast at Denny’s and bought a club sandwich. My stomach is starting to make noises.
I call Killer and Autumn again.
Geeze, are they that paranoid about the unknown number? But about my voice messages.
Hours later.
Finally, some bikers show up and look at me. One biker stops and rests his hands on his waist.
“What’s up,” the biker says, raising his brow.
“I’m here for the job,” I say.
“Come in, give me a few,” a tall biker says.
“Okay,” I say, nodding.
The bikers open the back door, and a tall biker waves me inside. I follow them down a dark hallway and look around at the inside of the strip club.
Geeze, what am I doing here? Fuck it! I need to work.
I follow the biker into an office, and he gives me a tablet.
“Here, fill this out,” the biker says.
“Okay,” I say, nodding.
I fill out the application on the tablet and then wait for the biker to return. I chew my lower lip, unsure whether this is a good idea. I checked my cell phone, and there were no messages.
The biker returns, lifts his chin, and takes the tablet. He falls onto the chair behind the desk, crossing his arms. He looks at me, and then he reviews the tablet. He scrubs his face and leans his arms on the desk, looking at me.
“Are you sure that you want to work here?” the biker asks, raising his brow.
I look at the biker’s Cut, the patch, his road name, Fierce. I wonder if Killer is his Brother.
“Yes, I need the job,” I say, nodding.
“Okay, we do need a barista,” the biker says, nodding.
I chew my lower lip and look at the Cut. It’s like Killer’s Cut. So, this should be good.
“Okay, when do I start,” I ask.
“Today, right now. I need you to get the tables and bar ready,” Fierce says.
“Okay, I can do that,” I nod.
“Good, let me get you the uniform,” Fierce says.
He walks away, and I pull out my cell phone. I call Killer, but he doesn’t pick up. I chew my lip and try again.
Is he not picking up because he’s busy?
