“It’s just nerves,” I tell her, already feeling guilty about lying to her.
She holds my eyes for a few seconds and then pushes herself off the bar. “There are saltines in the pantry. They’re on the second shelf. We keep the ginger ale in the mini fridge below the bar. Help yourself to what you need.”
She walks off without waiting for a thank you. I feel like the world’s biggest liar because I am. I’m lying to the nice family who took me in when I had nowhere to go. I make a mental note to apologize to her for that. It’s pretty clear that she knows or at least suspects that I’m pregnant. She’s been around a long time and has probably seen a lot of pregnant women over the years.
Jinx finds me an hour later. I’m sitting on the backstep. It’s under a covered back porch where no drones can see me. It’s one of the little compromises we’ve made so I can get some fresh air and still be safe.
Jinx sits down on the step beside me, a careful foot of space between us. He looks out at the yard instead of at me.
“What’s going on?” I ask. “Is it anything I should know?”
“Onyx is stuck,” he says. “We’re still trying to figure out the ins and outs of how the Hyenas are getting their money.” He pauses. “I hate to ask you for more information, but you grew up in that club. If there’s anything else you can think of that might help us put this together, we’d appreciate you tellin’ us.”
I scoot closer and Jinx wraps his arm around me as I answer, “I know lots of random things from growing up in my father’s house. It’s hard to know exactly what’s important.”
“Okay.” He nods, thinking the situation over. “Do you know anything about where they bank?”
“Oh, yeah. My dad has an account with Second National Bank. He’s had that one since way before he became a club officer. He said if it was good enough for the club, it was good enough for him.”
“Well, that might be helpful. Do they have accounts anywhere else?” he asks.
I give him a mischievous look. “They swear everything is through Second National Bank, but I’ve seen them using prepaid major credit cards. You know the ones that don’t have anyone’s name on them?”
He perks up. “Yeah, that might be a way for the cartel or Santos to slip money to them.”
“I think that might be what’s happening because there were several weeks a few months back where my father gave me a card and told me to take out the maximum allowable amount per day. It was five hundred bucks.”
“How long did that go on for?” Jinx asks.
I shrug. “About three weeks, until the card wouldn’t work anymore. Each of my brothers was asked to do the same thing. In the end it seems like a lot of money. When I took the last five hundred to him to put in his safe, it was crammed full.”
Jinx goes very still beside me. “What else can you think of?”
“The bikes.” Memories are coming back, the words are coming out easier than I want them to. “They build them to looklike junk on purpose. They paint them to look rusted and use mismatched panels. They get a kick out of making their bikes look like trash.”
“We’ve always known they did that,” he responds mildly.
“Yeah, but the engines they use changed this year. They ordered several dozen really powerful engines and put them on lighter frames. That’s why they are so fast now. I got curious about the process and my brothers stopped letting me near the garage. That’s what makes me think that information might be useful. The Hyenas only hide really important things.” I shrug. “Trash on the outside so nobody looks twice, racing-grade underneath.”
Jinx turns to look at me. There’s no joking or swagger, just a club officer trying to protect his club and his new friend. “Think about your old man for a minute. If you had to identify one weakness, what would you say it was?”
I grin at him. “That’s an easy one. Everyone who knows him can answer that question. It’s his stubborn pride,” I say without hesitating. “He’ll take Santos’s money but hate every minute of it. Needing anyone stings his pride.”
Jinx nods at that as if he’s cataloging the information away to use later.
I continue, “My brothers are like that too. Spark’s smart but careless. Brave just wants to hit something. And Stripe is creative about his cruelty.” My voice stammers across his name and I hate the way saying his name sparks fear in my chest. “Whenever my dad decides to take someone out, Stripe is always the one leading the charge. He’ll come loud and angry, and that’s what makes him less dangerous than he thinks he is. If he werehalf smart, he’d sneak up on you, but he enjoys fighting and violence too much for that.”
Jinx is quiet for a moment. “And your father thought he’d make a good husband for you?”
“Yep.”
Later, when it’s time for church, they bring me inside so I can tell them everything I know that might be useful.
Slate watches me the whole time with suspicious eyes. He’s the one I think of as a human lie detector. When I’m done talking, Jasper asks Slate, “Is she telling the truth, brother? I need information that I can trust.”
Slate nods. “Yes. She’s telling the truth or at least she thinks she is.”
“You always know when someone’s being honest and when they aren’t. I wish I had that gift,” Jasper says. Turning to me, he asks, “Why give us intel on your family like that?”
