Dodge (Devil’s Tide MC #1)

1. Autumn

ONE

AUTUMN

I’ve been scammed.

I laugh. That's all I can do.

Something didn’t sit right with me as soon as I stepped off the bus in California, but once the taxi service dropped me off at the address, everything my intuition has been warning me about for weeks now smacks me in the face.

It was too good to be true. Everything is always too good to be true.

With a sigh, I turn away from the broken-down, closed building and hold back the disappointed tears that I’ll never see that two thousand dollars again. The boarded- up windows are a stark representation of my dream about to be over. Always so close, right before it’s ripped away from me.

In hindsight, paying up front for an apartment you haven’t seen in person is a bad choice, but it was the only affordable option in the area.

And it was available as soon as possible, which again was too good to be true, since classes start next week.

I tried to stay at my old job as long as I could before moving.

What good that did me, considering I’m homeless in a town I don’t know, with only a few hundred dollars.

Just as I believe my life is finally turning around, it kicks me back down. At least this one is on me. I have no one to blame but myself and the bastard scammer.

The chances of running into someone gracious enough to give me—the epitome of a broke college student—anything, and I mean anything: a job, a meal, a place to stay to get me back on my feet, is close to zilch. My track record has optimism in the gutter.

I shove my self-pity into a box. You’ll survive, Autumn. You always do.

My newfound encouragement falters as I press the power button on my phone a few times, only to continue to be met with a blank screen.

Of course it’s dead. I mean, why wouldn't it be? It’s not like life could just go easy on me for once.

I shield my eyes from the sweltering sun, glancing down at each end of the street.

Buildings for miles either way, but one looks more like businesses instead of apartments, so I’ll take my chances there.

Hitching my duffel bag higher on my shoulder as I set off, I can only hope there’s some kind of lodging, or even a cafe, that will allow me to charge my phone enough that I can look one up.

When I accepted the scholarship to the graduate program in Bluport Cliffs, I knew I’d have to uproot my whole life.

Not that there was much to uproot, but it had started to feel like everything was looking up for me.

I rented a small affordable room, school was going well with my scholarship, and they even provided the information to do the transfer to this college for my graduate program.

Yet, here we are, smack-dab in the middle of a fucking disaster again.

It took me so long to dig my way out of the last time I was in this sort of situation.

My shoulder aches, and I switch my duffel bag to the other side. Thankfully, I’m saved from the embarrassment of wheeling around multiple pieces of luggage like a flustered tourist. Instead I rock the portrayal of a lone hitchhiker, only missing the tied red cloth and stick hanging over my back.

Twenty minutes later, sweat breaks out across my forehead and down my neck, and I’m finally past a bunch of office buildings when I see a place with stools lined up outside, the first spot that looks like a real chance to sit and rest.

I look up at the sign and grimace. It’s not exactly what I’m looking for, but a bar is good enough.

My nose wrinkles when I get inside; the stale air is a little dank, and the low lights hanging all over keep the place so dark that it takes my eyes a few minutes to adjust. Men in the corner glance at me, and I swallow down the nerves, trying not to judge the motorcycle club vests they’re wearing.

I’m sure they’re not bad people, but it does make them look menacing.

I’m sure I don’t look much better after two days of travel.

I clutch my duffel bag tighter and head to the bar top.

There’s a woman cleaning glasses behind it.

Her eyes flicker to me before doing a double take, and she frowns as she sets the cup down.

She’s older, I would assume she has at least a decade on me, with spiky black hair and a thin frame hidden by her overwashed band tee and black jeans.

“If you order anything but soda, I’ll need some ID.”

I nod. Her firm tone doesn’t offend me. My baby face rarely does me any favors. Hell, I only turned twenty-two a few months ago. I hold up my phone. “I’m a little lost. Do you have somewhere I can charge my phone?”

She walks closer to my spot at the bar top, taking it from me without a word, and looks at the charging port before plugging it into the wire sitting on the counter. It’s still in my view, so I stifle my complaint at her bluntness and give her a forced smile. “Thanks.”

She nods, glancing over me again. “You hungry, doll?”

I shake my head. “I’m okay. Water would be nice.”

I do not have the money to waste on an overpriced bar meal and can only hope that the water is the least expensive thing on the menu. Maybe whatever motel I find will have a kettle so I can grab some cheap ramen, then we’ll pray no one has used the kettle for nefarious things.

The bartender frowns. “On me. You look like you could use a meal. ”

The kind gesture has a knot growing in my throat. I’m surprised she’s offering, maybe even a little suspicious. I must look rougher than I thought, but I’m not dumb enough to turn it down. “Uhm, thanks. I would more than appreciate anything. I’m not picky.”

She nods again and moves to the register, typing something in before she pours me a soda and places it in front of me. “Where you trying to head?”

I shrug, tracing a groove on the bar top with my finger.

“Anywhere, really. Somewhere to stay for the night. The apartment I thought I secured turned out to be a scam. Now I've got to find a place to stay and a job to make back the money I lost.” It doesn’t sound as bad as it did in my head, but I’m still out two thousand dollars and a bed.

Her eyebrows raise. “Damn, harder day than I thought. What kind of experience you have?”

Something inside me perks up. Oh god, could my luck change that fast? Is she going to offer me a job? Nerves flutter in my stomach. I can’t screw this up.

“Uhm, I worked at a gas station for a few summers. Like the register stuff.” It’s the only skill I can think of that would be related to anything needed for a job here .

“Anything else?”

Shit. Clearly, that’s not what she’s looking for. Embarrassment flushes over my neck and chest. “Just a lot of nanny work and babysitting. I’m going to school for early childhood development, so most of my experience is there.”

She stands straighter. “You nanny a lot?”

I nod, probably a little too excited, word vomiting my life story in the next second.

“Since I was twelve, watching the neighbor's kids. Then I started getting paid for it around sixteen. I love kids. I love working with them.” If I were to psychoanalyze myself, I think a part of me longs for a large family, and that’s why I’ve always been drawn to being a part of other families.

No mom in sight, it was just my dad and me growing up, but as soon as I turned eighteen, he skipped out.

We were never really that close, so it didn’t hurt as much as the eviction notice that came soon after.

I assume he only stuck around for whatever government benefits came from raising a kid.

The woman lets out a loud whistle, waving someone over .

I glance over my shoulder, my heart pounding as two of the motorcycle men walk our way. They look over me curiously and turn back to her.

“What you need, Tink?” one of them asks. The other leans against the bar top with a bored expression.

She nods toward me. “Dodge needs a nanny, don’t he?”

They all look at me, and my blush deepens.

“Uh, hi.” I’m not sure what else to say. I assume she’s trying to set me up for a different job, and I’d rather stay silent to prevent anything ruining that chance.

They snicker at my awkwardness. It comes off more playful than rude. “You know what she’s trying to sign you up for?” one says.

Tink places her hands on her hips as she stares at the men. “Y’all are running out of options. Maybe it’s time to consider an outsider.”

One of them scowls. “Dodge probably won’t like it.”

“Well, he can suck it up and admit he needs the fucking help,” she scoffs.

I startle when a bell rings, and she walks away to leave me with the two men.

My anxiety hikes, and my palms are sweaty.

I wipe them on my jeans. “Uhm, I don’t know what’s going on, but I could really use a job.

” I should be embarrassed by my desperation, but I’m not.

I learned a long time ago, it’s okay to know when to ask for help.

Pride never gave me a full belly and warm bed.

“I’m Razer, this is Viper,” the one with dark hair says, nodding toward the bald one with a ton of tattoos. “You new in town?”

A plate is set in front of me, and my stomach grumbles at the smell of a burger and fries. My mouth waters at the sight; my hunger surfacing in full force. When was the last time I ate? I can’t be bothered to think about it as I pull the fresh food closer.

“Eat up, sweetie,” Tink says, and then snaps her fingers at Razer and Viper. “Give her space. It’s her first day and someone already scammed her.”

Razer frowns. “What you mean you were scammed?”

I open my mouth, but Tink beats me to the punch again, explaining everything, and I take a few fries while she talks, chewing them slowly to savor them.

I don’t know when my next full meal like this will be.

I have to hold back a moan when I take a bite of the burger.

It’s either the best burger I’ve ever had, or my hunger is making me delusional.

“I mean, we can have Cowen look into her,” Viper says when I finally tune back into their conversation.

Tink huffs, grabbing a towel and wiping down the counter in quick, angry jerks.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll swing by the clubhouse to double-check with Gage or Dodge if they’re there. I think Bear was gonna watch her there today.”

Viper snorts. “You mean Lacey.”

Razer rolls his eyes. “Yeah. Plus, if they clear it, there’s no harm in them meeting her first either way.”

I watch them talk back and forth, only half listening as names and places that hold no meaning to me are flung out.

Tink waves her hand. “I mean, look at her. Harmless as a mouse.”

Viper rolls his eyes and pulls out a cigarette before she grabs and plucks it from his fingers.

“You know the rules. Outside,” she scolds, throwing the cigarette back at his face. He catches it before it falls and leaves, grumbling under his breath.

Razer clears his throat. “You really looking for a job? Like you’re planning to stick around?”

I swallow a bite from the second round of fries Tink gave me and nod. “Yes. I need one, but I feel like I have to be honest. Sometimes I’m not the right fit for all children.”

He frowns. “What you mean? You backing out already?”

I grimace. “No, no. It’s just that I’m short and not very strong. So some children with more aggressive behaviors can overpower me if they don’t work well with redirection.”

Razer blinks at me as if I’ve been speaking another language. “One of my brothers? needs a babysitter that won’t quit on him. His girl is a year or so old and tiny.”

Tink snorts. “Her attitude is mighty. I wouldn’t say aggressive, though.”

“Brother? Like part of your club?” I ask. My eyes flicker to his vest again.

Razer cocks his head to the side, clocking my hesitation. “Yeah. That a problem?”

“I don’t think so?” I’m not confident in my answer, so I opt for the truth. “Never been around a motorcycle club. Just know what I’ve seen in movies and books.”

They both laugh with a shake of their heads.

“Not like that, promise. Most of us work an honest living, then party on the weekends while sharing our love for bikes,” Razer says.

“Then yeah, if he’s looking, I’d love to apply.” Beggars can’t be choosers, and I really need a job. It’s better than trying to find one online and potentially getting scammed again.

Razer nods, leaning over the counter to grab a pad of paper used to take orders. He scribbles an address and slides it over. “Show up tomorrow, say around noon. Tell ’em Razer sent you. I’ll let them know to be waiting.”

I take the paper and tuck it into my pocket with a wary smile. “Thank you.”

He winks at me before walking back to the pool tables after Tink hands him a new beer. She nods at me. “Eat up. Once your phone is charged, I’ll give you the number to the motel. They won’t overcharge if you say I sent you. The club owns it.”

I thank her again and settle into eating as she goes back to work. I know I should be cautious after what just happened to me, but this time my intuition is quiet. What are the chances of being scammed again, right? And even so, I’ll make do. I always have.