Chapter 8
Faith
Spending time with Debbie and Bobbi last night inspired me to do a couple of things.
Find some furniture for my living room and go job hunting.
But as I scroll through the list of local furniture stores on my phone, Bobbi’s comment about an upcoming sale pop into my head, so I decide to put that on hold for the time being.
It’s just not reasonable to continue to burn through the money I took. I refuse to think of what I did as ‘stealing’. That sure as hell was money owed for years of playing the role of Tore’s wife and keeping all the secrets I overheard.
While money was never an issue when I was married to Tore, here and now, my spending is being noticed. I need to make a conservative budget and stick to it.
Then I need to figure out what I want to do and how to get a job. Crossing to the kitchen, I wonder why I even bother opening the fridge. I haven’t gone grocery shopping and last night we ate the cheese and crackers I had on hand.
Convincing myself that Walt’s for breakfast will help me kill two birds with one stone, I grab the baseball cap that Bobbi accidentally left behind and pull my hair through the opening in the back. Checking my reflection, I worry that I’m trying too hard to look casual, but I decide to go with it.
Just because I’m not used to leaving the house without makeup on doesn’t mean that’s the norm around here. My normal would draw too much attention and I seem to be doing that without adding to it.
Besides a stellar breakfast, surely Walt must know of someone that’s hiring. While I know preparing a résumé is the typical way to get a job, considering that the only work experience I have was babysitting when I was in high school, I can’t imagine what good it would do me.
Pulling up outside the restaurant, I notice a few motorcycles off to the side and while I can tell that they’re all slightly different, I just have no idea if any of them belong to Logan. Or Cowboy , I think to myself.
Although he’s never corrected me, I have noticed that I’m the only one who calls him anything other than his road name.
The bell above the door draws everyone’s eyes to me, and I fall into the aloof persona I adopted over the years. Pretending not to see the tightening of the women’s mouths nor the hunger in the men’s eyes, I cross directly over to the seat I sat in a couple of days ago—acting as if I’ve been sliding onto that particular stool most of my life.
It’s actually comforting when Walt barely casts me a glance before speaking. “Same?”
“Yes. But, no coffee, just a water would be great,” I answer him with a nod.
Respecting the fact that he seems to be the only person working today, I skip the small talk before looking in the direction of the three bikers who’ve been watching me since I entered.
None of them were at the party the other night, but the largest of the three is shooting me a knowing glance. The older man sitting next to him says something under his breath to his friends, which has the man closest to me shifting his eyes down to his plate, while it just seems to embolden the big guy.
“What have you got to say about that?” he asks, his eyes holding mine while he tilts his head in the direction of his older friend.
“I didn’t hear him,” I answer, refusing to be cowed as I match his stare.
“You’ll have to excuse my brother,” the oldest biker says, softening the look on his face as he shifts his eyes between the man to his right and me. “He hasn’t lived in the south long enough to learn any manners.”
“From the sounds of it, he’s from Pittsburgh,” I reply, drawing a startled glance from the third man as the large one pulls himself up to his full height; as though puffing up with pride. “So, I wouldn’t hold out any hope of him learning manners.”
Two of the three men burst out laughing at my comment, just as Walt sets down a glass of water in front of me and turns on the man whose cut reads ‘Beast’ just as he opens his mouth. I cannot see Walt’s face, but he must be giving him a silent warning because he seems to think better of saying anything further.
“How did you know where his accent is from?” the older man asks me.
“My husband had some associates from there,” I reply, smiling when I see Walt flipping my French toast on the grill, and I’m grateful that I’ll have a reasonable distraction very soon.
“Your husband ?” The third man looks surprised, and it’s becoming apparent that they know exactly who I am.
“Um, ex. He passed,” I blurt out the truth and instantly want to curse myself for not remembering to lie.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” the older man stares gravely at me as the bells above the door announce a new arrival. “Demo.”
“Who died?” Demo asks, looking at the other man.
“The young lady’s husband.”
“Did he now?” In the split second before he schools his face, I see something close to suspicion in his eyes and my stomach starts to churn.
These men are all licensed private investigators and bondsmen. I would imagine they keep mental files on everyone they get to know, and now I’m on their radar.
“Anything else?” Walt asks, placing my plate in front of me and sliding the caddy of condiments closer.
“You don’t happen to know anyone who’s hiring, do you?”
“What are you looking to do?” he asks, knitting his eyebrows together.
I bite my bottom lip, embarrassed to admit my lack of any work experience in front of the other customers, and focus on assembling my breakfast.
“I’m a fast learner and really organized,” I tell him before taking a large bite out of my French toast, egg, bacon, and hash brown taco.
“How are you with computers?” Demo thankfully interjects as I furiously try to articulate any other skills I might, unknowingly, have. “You know all the basic programs, at least, right?”
“Yes,” I eagerly answer, happy to realize I have a third skill to add when recommending myself.
“When can you start?” he asks and I frown at him, wondering if he’s asking that question in general or if he actually has a job in mind for me.
I may have gotten a little ahead of myself. I don’t necessarily want to start working today, but I don’t want to appear ungrateful, either.
Taking another bite, I concentrate on my breakfast for a moment, trying to buy myself some time.
“I suppose it would depend on the position and what would be needed to prepare,” I hesitantly reply.
“We need someone to answer calls and help track expenses, just basic bookkeeping, really. There’s a whole system in place, whether people are calling for a bail bond or investigative work. You just read from a list of questions and then assign the job to whoever’s available.”
“And the bookkeeping?” I ask him, not sure how in depth that would get.
“Nickel handles the books, but, well, like these two bozos just got back from a job,” he replies, indicating the older man and the large guy with his chin. “So, they give you an envelope with all their receipts—breakfast, lunch, dinner, motel, gas, all that shit—and you just put it into Excel and send it to Nickel.”
“Where would I work?”
“There’s an office at the clubhouse. Thea, she gave herself the title of office manager, had the position for nearly three years, but she moved a month ago and things have been piling up. Pay is fair and the hours are flexible. There’s a two-month probation period to see if you like the job and we’ll see if you can handle everything, and then I’ll add you to our insurance plan.”
“I accept.”
I’m not sure who’s more surprised by my answer, Walt, Demo, or me. This might end up being a horrible idea, but if a job falls into my lap, I think I’d be an idiot not to take it.
“There’s some paperwork I’ll need you to fill out,” Demo tells me, motioning to Walt for more coffee. Even though I’m stuffing my face, I don’t miss the look he and the older man share. “Because of our business, we have to run a background check on you.”
“Sure thing,” I say without hesitation, pretending not to notice that flicker in his eyes as he constantly catalogs my reactions and reassesses me.
My childhood was anything but normal, but the one absolute certainty I have long had is that my background check won’t turn up a damn thing. Nor will it raise any red flags, or at least any that can’t be readily explained.
Faith Murphy has had a perfectly ordinary life. She even was on the lease of a rental apartment in Vegas for a couple of years. I let out a sigh as I start to feel full from my meal. Now if Angela could just get with the program and stop blowing her cover with slip ups like a dead husband, I might just live another year.
“I need to run a couple of errands down in Seneca today, but I can stop by afterward. Oh! I don’t know how to get to your clubhouse.”
Truth be told, the roads around here wind around so much, what with all the lakes and rivers, that even with the GPS, I’m constantly getting lost.
“I’ll have Cowboy text you,” he tells me. “Have you met these guys yet?”
“Jesus, where are my manners ,” Beast cuts in, slapping himself on his forehead and giving me a big wink as the third man he is sitting with chuckles. “We have not been formally introduced.”
“That’s Beast, you can ignore him,” Demo says, shaking his head before indicating the other two men. “Monk and Frost. This is Faith—she’s the lady who moved in down the road from Cowboy. Frost is Risk’s cousin.”
It’s impossible to miss the emphasis he puts on ‘lady’, but I don’t have time to ponder the significance.
“You met Risk already?” Frost asks me, looking like he’s trying to put something together.
“Cowboy brought her to the pig roast they had the other night,” Beast tells him, obviously up-to-date on the gossip as his eyes darken when they look back at me again. “I’m always up for leftovers, but sadly, there didn’t seem to be any around last night.”
“There weren’t any leftovers,” I sternly reply to his innuendo as the other Saints seem to have frozen in place.
Monk’s elbow shoots out, catching Beast about the same time Demo lurches up from his stool to smack the man upside his head.
“Stow that shit, Corporal.” There’s no room for argument in Demo’s tone and it’s the first time I’m seeing this side of him; a far cry from his usual laid back demeanor. “Faith, as far as the job, if any of the men get out of line with you, I want to hear about it immediately.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” I reply, hoping to disarm the situation with a little humor. When his eyes harden again, I turn back to the rest of my breakfast instead of digging myself in deeper.
I mean, I think I’m funny, but I don’t want to lose the job before I get started.
*
After driving to the nearest mid-sized town, I finally buy myself a computer and hit the grocery store. On the way back, my phone rings and I try to still the flutters I feel when I see Logan’s name pop up on the screen.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Sorry to call … I mean, Demo said to text you the address,” he starts, sounding uncharacteristically awkward. “Did I hear him right? You’re going to work for the bail bonds business?”
“I need to get a job, and he kind of jumped into my conversation with Walt. Next thing I knew, he’s talking about probationary periods and flexible hours.” The last thing I want is for Logan to think I’m stalking him. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who does regular relationships, and we just met.
Granted, there was that whole licking me to orgasm thing, but he hasn’t exactly made a move since then.
Damn, I want to get laid. And not just by anyone.
By someone who will take their time and focus on me for a hot minute.
“Faith? Did I lose you?” he asks, raising his voice and I realize I was daydreaming.
“Sorry about that.” I squeak out the words. “What did you say?”
“Why don’t you let me know when you’re ready to go and I’ll pick you up at your dock?”
“Because I’ll still need to know how to get there on my own,” I answer before worrying that it sounds like I’m trying to distance myself from him. “I should be home in about twenty minutes though. I just need to put away my groceries, and then I can pick you and Bruno up, if you want?”
“Groceries? You cooking dinner tonight?”
“I can.”
“Sounds good. I’m going to leave Bruno behind today though. I saw some armadillo sign this morning and he’ll scare—”
“What now?” I blurt out. “I thought armadillos were in Texas or Arkansas? I don’t know, one of the schools has them as a mascot, right? I think there was a movie.”
The man doesn’t even try to hide his laugh. A loud, rich sound that I haven’t heard before, but it has me smiling along with him, even if it is at my expense.
“We have armadillos here, too. They can be a real problem because they attract bears and other predators that’ll just as soon go after my chickens.”
“Please don’t tell me what the other predators are,” I nearly whimper. “I don’t want to know.”
“Someday, you’ll have to tell me how the hell you ended up here or how you had no idea about the wildlife you’d be sharing the land with.”
“Maybe a fence will help?”
“Armadillos burrow into the ground, so they’ll still get onto your property, and you can kiss that garden goodbye. And then your fence would keep the other predators away, so you’d essentially be setting up a habitat for them.”
“Well, as illuminating and frustrating as this conversation has been, I need to pay attention to the GPS. I’ll text you when I’m home.”
“No need. I’ll see your Jeep roll by,” he informs me, still sounding amused. “Also, babe, out here, when you drive by your neighbor and see them working outside, it’s customary to throw out a wave or a quick tap of your horn.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, neighbor ,” I sass back before disconnecting the call.
*
“Here you go,” I say, handing the paperwork back to Demo, before trying to nip any further questions in the bud. “I only put one of my previous addresses down, I hope that’s alright.”
“I’m sure it’ll give us everything we need,” he smoothly answers, then nods at Logan, who hands me the papers he has rolled up in his hands. “Those are for you. It outlines your pay, the probationary period, and other HR nonsense we’re legally obliged to do. Again, if you ever have any problems, come to me and I’ll handle them or fire you.”
“He’s joking,” Logan nearly yells, waving his hands in both of our directions. “Everything here is above-board. There’s no HR department though, so we handle things in-house, and you can always talk to me.”
“Not if you’re sexually harassing her,” Demo wry interjects.
“I’m not sexually harassing her,” he growls back.
“What if I sexually harass him?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest and pulling surprised looks from both men. “What? Men can be harassed, you know. And they shouldn’t be made to feel like they’re helpless.”
Demo lets out a grunt before mirroring my pose as he leans back in his large leather chair, trying to figure out if I’m kidding or not. “I’m guess I’m just a sexist pig then who’d laugh my ass off at any of my brothers complaining about you coming onto them.”
“Maybe we do need an HR department,” Logan deadpans.
“I have actual work to do, so the both of you get the fuck out of my office,” Demo says, waving us toward the door.
“That’s what they call a ‘hostile work environment’,” Logan continues as he stands up and reaches for the door just as Monk is opening it.
“Prez? There are a couple of men here to see you,” he says, momentarily closing his mouth when he sees me standing there. “They, uh, said they’ve done some work with Cal and Andy in the past.”
“Where are they?” Logan’s tone of voice and stance instantly shifts, alerting me to some unknown threat.
“Head of the hallway,” Monk quietly answers after sticking his head back through the door to confirm they’re where he left them.
I’m caught looking between the three of them, wondering at the sudden panic coursing through my body, but find myself sighing with relief when Demo throws his thumb over his shoulder and Logan takes my hand and guides me through a door at the back corner of the room.
We’re outside and walking along the back of the building before I know it.
“What’s happening? Who are those men?” I ask and stop walking.
“I don’t know,” Logan bites out the words.
Holding a hand up, he looks to the end of the building, then back at me. “Give me your keys. Stay here and I’ll pull your Jeep around.”
“Logan!” Desperation starts to well up in me and I feel frozen in place.
When he angrily strides back to me, he pushes me up against the wall and crushes his lips down on top of mine.
Except I immediately sense that he isn’t angry. He’s worried. Logan isn’t trying to punish me or just shut me up with this kiss. He needs comfort, and this is how he’s seeking it.
The frantic dance of our tongues slows down after a moment and he presses his forehead against mine after our lips part.
“I don’t know what’s happening, but it’s probably best not to drive anyway,” Logan tells me, wrapping an arm around my back. “Come on, let’s head down to the docks.”
This time, he keeps pace with me instead of pulling me along. If anyone is watching us from the parking lot, I tell myself that all they’ll see is a happy couple, leisurely walking down to the river.
ABOVE EDITED
“Who are Cal and Andy?” I quietly ask him as we put more distance between ourselves and the clubhouse.
“Morons,” he mutters. “Anything you want to tell me?”
“Not particularly.”
My honest reply gets a snort and after looking around, he jumps down into a boat that has a guy sleeping on a chair under the canopy.
If anyone had done that to me, I’d have flown over the side in terror, but the man just cracks an eye open before stretching his arms over his head. I lean against a post to slide off a shoe, but nearly fall over when the man jumps out of his seat at the sight of me.
“Here, let me help,” he eagerly offers, reaching a hand up to help me into the boat and looking up at me with the brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen.
“Back off, Charm,” Logan growls at him, giving him a little shove to take my hand instead. “Ignore him.”
“So, you are the beauty that everyone has been chattering about,” Charm says, keeping his eyes glued to my face instead of sweeping them up and down my body like so many men do. “Faith, is it? And I understand you’ll be working for us?”
“Now, why do I get the feeling you even know my Social Security number?”
“Five-sex-three …Oops, I meant to say ‘six’, of course,” he says so easily that I have to laugh, ignoring the deepening frown on Logan’s face.
Recalling the reason we headed to the dock in the first place, I sit down on one of the seats and Logan immediately shifts to block the view from the clubhouse.
“I take it those aren’t Feds?” he asks Charm.
“Feds?” I parrot.
“Considering the fit of their suits, they are definitely not Feds. They are, however, the reason the Feds have drones flying grids over the tri-state area,” he replies. “Now, I assume that you think I have nothing better to do and you’d like a ride somewhere?”
“Can you drop us off at the dock before my place?” Logan asks him as I try to figure out what the hell is going on. “And then go to my place to make sure that Bruno has enough food and water?”
“It’s been so long since I’ve lived the life of a prospect,” he responds with a sarcastic tinge to his words. “But sure, let’s just go floating up memory lane.”
“Charm is our vice-president,” Logan quietly tells me as the other man starts up his boat and I study Logan as we put some distance between ourselves and the men who showed up today.
“What do you know?” I ask him, worry knotting up my stomach.
“You mentioned your mom forges documents, but we just kind of skipped over that the other day,” he says, trailing a finger along my cheek bone. “Has she ever been to prison?”
I shake my head, my eyes burning with unshed tears of frustration. A lifetime of preparation, and I blow the only gift my mother ever gave me in a matter of days.
Logan’s phone buzzes and he pulls his hand away to study the screen, concern pulling his eyebrows lower than normal.
Just as I start to ask what’s happened, the boat slows down and Logan moves to jump onto the dock, turning back to steady the boat so I can join him.
Charm helps me stand up before leaning in toward my ear. “If you need help, he’ll give it freely and wholly. If you fuck him over, I’m the one that’ll come for you, and you won’t find me charming.”
I gasp in surprise, nearly falling until he catches me and all but swings me up onto the dock. “Oopsies, gotta get your sea legs there, darling! See you soon.”
“You alright?” Logan checks on me, and I realize he was too distracted to notice my exchange with Charm.
Nodding but feeling too exposed out here, I slip back into my shoes and tug his hand, hoping he plans on coming inside.
If the net is tightening around me, I’m not stupid enough to think I can take on the mafia on my own.