“What’s going on?” I demand, my shoulders tensing.
“We stopped at the gas station and used the payphone to call the club and talk to Prez while we were riding. He says Grizzly is stirring up shit again in Billings, so we need to head back.”
I nod immediately. “Go, take care of it.”
“What about you?” Bow asks.
“I’m stuck here for a week or so,” I tell them about the head gasket situation. “It’ll be a few days before I can meet up with you all.”
They nod and turn to get back on their bikes. I watch them roar away before making my way to Mindi’s room. I have some time to kill before she gets there, so I decide to call my dad, who just happens to be the president of the Reapers Rejects MC.
4
Mindi
Fist is no sooner out the door when Darla sidles over to me. “Is that the biker you were with a few months back?” she asks eagerly.
“Yeah,” I reply.
“Girl.” She nudges me with her shoulder and gives me a lusty wink. “He is fucking hot.”
I roll my eyes even though Darla isn’t wrong and go to grab an order that’s ready to be delivered to table number six. I glance over as I hear Darla’s big laugh and can’t stop the smile that curves my lips.
Darla has kind of become my best friend in Wolf Creek. She usually works the second shift, so we don’t usually work together, but today’s one of those exceptions. I enjoy being around Darla. She’s open and out there about everything, not afraid to share her opinion, and I love that about her. She can also be vulgar, which makes me laugh. She has brassy blonde hair, doe brown eyes, and never steps out of her apartment in less than full makeup. Darla is unapologetically herself, and I wish I could be that way. She doesn’t talk much about her past, but I know she’s from Texas. From the clues I’ve gathered, I think she’s from the Houston area, but I’m not one hundred percent certain of that.
“Mindi,” Jason, the owner, calls my name, and I look over. “Can I see you for a minute? In private.”
I follow him to the stock room and wait expectantly for him to say what’s on his mind.
“Listen, we’re slowing down. The slow season is almost here, and I won’t be able to keep you on. I won’t be able to afford you.”
The breath leaves my body as panic begins to set in. If I have no money, I have no way to pay for the room I’m renting or the food I’ll need, or anything else. “Jason, no. Please,” I beg. “I’ll work here for free. You know I need a job. You know the reason why. Please. I’ll work for free,” I repeat desperately. “All I ask is for you to let me eat here for free—even if it’s just one meal a day—and sleep in the apartment upstairs.” Tears are threatening, but I force them back.
I can tell by the look on his face what the answer will be before he speaks, and my heart cracks. He frowns and shoves his hands into his pockets as he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Mindi, really I am, but I can’t do that.”
I bite my lower lip. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
“That biker is back in town,” Jason replies in an even tone, and I know immediately that’s why he told me now. Jason thinks I can ride into the sunset with Fist, and I won’t be his problem anymore. Before I can say anything, Jason continues.
“Ah, listen, I’m afraid I can’t pay you your entire paycheck either. Not right now. I can give you thirty-five dollars and fifty-two cents today in cash and then mail out the rest of the paycheck to you once I have the money in the bank to cover it.”
His words wash over me like ice water, leaving my soul cold with dread and my face hot with anger. It’s not like I’m making big bucks here. I get paid about a hundred bucks, minus taxes, every two weeks for more than forty hours a week of work. If it wasn’t for the tips I bring in, I’d have to be pulling double shifts every day or have a second job. Add in the fact that I’m pregnant and that I’m in almost constant pain from standing on my feet all day, and I’m suddenly furious.
In a tightly controlled voice, I ask Jason if he expects me to finish pulling the double shift.
“Yes. I want you to close out.”
“Fine. If that’s all, I’ll get back to work.” He nods, and I go back to the main floor. I keep turning things over and around in my mind, and I know that Jason will stiff me for the rest of my money. I’ll never get a check . . . unless I take matters into my own hands.
I let the plan circulate as I finish out the shift. I’m polite to the customers, smile at Jason whenever I pass him, and then wave him off at seven. Darla and the cook leave at eight, and as nine draws nearer, I’m the only one left in the diner. I lock the doors, flip the sign to closed, and turn off all the lights except the one I need to prep the deposit bag.
Tonight, I’m the one who will make the bank deposit and everything. I count the receipt copies, separate sixty dollars worth of them, and shove them into the shredder. Then I pocket sixty dollars in cash. Next, I prep the deposit bag with the rest and put the bag into the diner’s overnight safe via the little slot at the top. Once the bag is in the safe, I force my diner keys into the slot as well. Jason had told me to turn them in after tonight. Then I head back to the room I’m renting, knowing full well that I’ll be getting out of Wolf Creek soon.
At least the room is paid up through Friday, and hopefully, Fist’s bike will be ready then. Because now, it looks like he’s my ride out of town.
5
Fist