“At the bar?”
“Yep. You want an Outlaw Soul named Hawk. His work is impeccable.”
“Perfect,” I said, pulling my shirt over my head and closing my locker. I could head over there real quick before picking up Dominic. “Thanks, Tammy.”
“Wait, Erica. Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I smiled. “I will be.”
As soon as I made this identity official, I hoped I’d be fine.
I drove across the street and parked at The Blue Dog. I automatically scanned the parking lot for Trainer’s bike, but he wasn’t here. I probably should have asked him where to get a fake ID, but I didn’t want to admit that I might have to leave someday if this didn’t work out. I was afraid it would burst the bubble of happiness that had formed around us. Right now, I needed that happiness.
Walking into the bar was different this time. There weren’t nearly as many people here on a weeknight, and when I entered, it felt like all eyes were on me. It occurred to me that I didn’t know anyone in the Outlaw Souls other than Trainer and Swole. I recognized the patch on many of the patron’s jackets, but I had no idea which one was Hawk, if he was even here.
Approaching the bar, I didn’t bother taking a seat. The bartender was different from the one that had been working the night I was here. This was a thin, young man with jet black hair and a diamond stud in one ear. He gave me the impression of someone that was trying very carefully to look tough but not quite pulling it off. Not everyone could be Swole. It took a moment for him to notice me standing there since he was filling four glasses with whatever beer they had on draft and flirting with the waitress.
When I finally caught his eye, he came right over. “What can I get ya?”
“I’m looking for a man named Hawk,” I said, assuming that the bartender would know who that was since this was an Outlaw Souls hangout.
“You’ve come to the right place then,” he said, gesturing to a table in the corner where two bikers were sitting by the window. They were under a neon light that cast them in a red glow. It looked almost ominous. I walked over, stopping just a few feet away.
“I’m looking for Hawk,” I said.
“You found him,” the man with the goatee said, looking at me curiously.
“Can we speak alone?” I asked. This needed to be done with as few as possible people finding out.
“Beat it,” the man with the goatee said to the other. He did as he was told, getting up and walking over to claim a barstool.
“You’re Hawk?” I asked, making sure before I took a seat.
“The one and only.” He used his booted foot to push out a chair opposite his seat. I took it and sat down. “What can I do for you?”
“I hear that you are the man to see about a fake ID.”
“Some might say that,” he said non-committedly, he didn’t look particularly interested in helping me out. “Why don’t you tell me who flapped their jaw to you?”
I assumed that he was being careful and not looking to give anyone a hard time. At least, that’s what I hoped. I’d hate to get Tammy into trouble. “Tammy Holt.”
The suspicion cleared from his eyes, and he looked more alert. “Okay, what have you got for me?”
“I need two fake identities. One for me, and one for my son.”
Hawk looked at me with a piercing gaze for almost a full minute. I couldn’t resist squirming under his scrutiny. “You and your son? That’s interesting. Let me tell you what I can do for you. I can make two kinds of fake IDs. Good or great. A good one will fool a bartender or store clerk. Basically, you’re using someone’s information - name, address, and all - and just putting your picture with it. It’s what I usually make for teenagers that want to bar hop. It works, and it’s affordable.
“But a great one is more than just an ID. It’s a whole profile. Name, social security number, birthday, all of that shit. It’s building a new life that will pass scrutiny. You can get a driver’s license and passport. I’m guessing that’s what you’re looking for. Am I right?”
“Yes,” I said, a little shaken by how quickly he deduced that.
“It won’t be cheap. And I’ll need the money upfront.”
I gulped. I was worried about that. “How much?”
“For two? Hmm,” he looked thoughtful. “I can do it for twenty-five hundred.”
My heart sank. Over two thousand dollars? I didn’t have that kind of money. I’d already gone through all the money that I’d taken from Jeff when I left him, and I was now firmly in the living paycheck-to-paycheck category.
