Page 62 of Beyond the Badge: Crew

“How much for the medium?”

“A buck fifty.”

“Damn. He didn’t give me enough for that. What about the small?”

“Eighty.”

The money Crew handed her before she left The Plant earlier was a marked hundred-dollar bill. “I’ll take a small this time.”

“Be back.” Hook headed down the bar and through a swinging door behind it.

“Nice guy,” she muttered to Midas.

The older man snorted loudly. “Gettin’ what you came for, right? Who the fuck cares if he’s nice or not?”

Cami shot him a grin. “True.”

It wasn’t long before Hook was on his way back to where she stood sandwiched between Midas and another biker. In the bartender’s hand was one of those to-go coffee cups with a lid.

Maybe the Demons weren’t so dumb after all. However, she wasn’t ready to give them any credit yet for being ingenious since they were dealing out in the open in a crowded bar.

Any undercover cop could be in the crowd.

Or an undercover DEA agent.

He placed the cup on the bar top but didn’t let it go. With a, “Thanks,” she reached for it.

He quickly yanked it away. “Gotta pay for it first.”

She dug into her bag, dug out the money and slid it across the bar.

He snatched it with one hand and pushed the cup toward her with the other. And instead of making change at the register, he dug into his cut and pulled out a wad of cash. He held it low as he peeled off a twenty and threw it on the bar top in front of her before moving away.

She shouldn’t walk out of Hawg Wild with that coffee cup. She might as well put a target on her back. Instead, she might hit the head and hide the baggie of meth in her bralette or something. Or find some way to smuggle it out since she was sure Crew would want the cup as evidence.

But before she left, she had one more plan to set in motion first. “Hey, Hook,” she called out, hoping he’d hear her over the din, “who’s the manager here?”

He glanced at her from where he now poured a draft beer a few feet away. “Why you askin’?”

So she didn’t have to yell, she waited until he dropped the beer off in front of Midas before answering, “I didn’t only come here to try your specialty drink. I’m looking for a job, too.”

He pursed his lips as he studied her. Without another word, he spun on his heels and walked away.

She sighed and turned to Midas. “Do you know who’s in charge here?”

Midas looked past her and jerked up his chin. “The big man there following Hook.”

She turned to see a huge dude with a lumbering gait following closely behind the bartender. Hook stopped in front of another customer but pointed in her direction.

The manager, also wearing a Demons cut, paused and gave her a good once-over before coming over. “Asked for me?”

She quickly scanned his name patch.Bulldog.Well, that fit. Though bulldogs were usually cuter, and she always had the urge tobooptheir noses. Her gut instinct told her that this bulldog wouldn’t appreciate that. “I need a job and I’m wondering if you have any openings.”

“What kinda job?”

“I’ve worked in bars before. I can sling drinks or serve tables.” She noticed that one patch on his cut declared himSgt. at Armsand the other saidUniontown.

Shaking his head, Bulldog’s belly bounced when he chuckled. “Table service? Here?”

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