Page 3 of Outlaw

“Well, I don’t know about the skimpy outfit,” I reply. “But the serving drinks part, yes.”

“So do it!” she blurts out. “Those guys will pay a lot of money for that sort of thing.”

“Yeah, and probably offer to tip me for…extra services.”

Violet chuckles and looks at them over my shoulder. “So say no. Take your cash and go home. Oh, and give me ten percent for hooking you up with the job.”

Slowly, I glance over my shoulder as discretely as I can. The silent one with the black hair still has his eyes on me. Definitely sleazy, but maybe Violet is right; maybe I need to “man up.” I need the money. My family needs the money. And is serving drinks really that bad?

“Come on,” Violet says, making the decision for me. She grabs my hand and pulls me quickly back over to their table.

“She’ll do it,” she says before I can speak. The men’s eyes light up like hungry wolves. “If the money’s right.”

“Five hundred sound good?” the gray man asks. “For three hours?”

“Sounds great,” Violet replies. “Oh, and if you need anyone to do some…other things, let me know. I’m only a phone call away.”

Before I know it, we’re walking away again and Violet is chattering in my ear, giving me directions on how to behave. My F5 twister is threatening to spin my stomach out of my throat, but I’ve still got a few hours left on my shift, so I do my best to keep it together.

But the mysterious, handsome man in the back still has his eyes on me, and he’s not making it easy on me.

3

Christian

What the fuck are those fools talking to her about? I want to get out of my seat and bash each and every one of their faces in. Nothing would feel better than cracking Thump’s jaw open with my fist. Son of a bitch has gone fully gray now, despite being in his forties. He’s got Ronnie with him, and Hawk, who finally decided to trim his corny, orange, Ron Howard curls off his head. The guy may be a bitch, but at least now he doesn’t look as much like one.

I’m seeing red just thinking about those pricks checking out my angel. Her body is too good for them. She’s too good for them. Let them hit on her friend there…what was her name? Violet. Yeah, let them hit on her; she’s used to it. She knows what’s up.

The new girl belongs to me.

I’m sitting behind them, and luckily none of them spotted me when I came in. I grab my beer and shift seats to a closer one so I can hear what they’re saying.

“Nice set of tits on her though,” Hawk growls. Sounds like he’s kept the smoking up. Two packs a day last time I saw him.

“Her friend ain’t bad either,” Ronnie adds. “She seems like she’d be down.”

“That’s why we don’t want her,” Thump says, swigging his beer. “She’s too wise. She’d see it comin’.”

“Yeah,” Hawk agrees. “You right.”

“Plus, there’s no way she’s fresh,” Ronnie chuckles. “I like ‘em fresh.”

My blood starts to boil. They’re talking about her now. My angel.

“Can’t believe she agreed to it,” Hawk says. “Stupid bitch. Ain’t her father ever teach her nothin’?”

I glance past them at the counter just in time to see her and Violet disappear into the back. I want to follow after them, barge right in there and shout my lungs out at her until she realizes that she has no business being anywhere near these pricks. As a matter of fact, she shouldn’t even be working at a shithole like this. Why isn’t she away at college or something?

“So how we gonna play it?” Hawk asks.

“Same as usual,” Thump replies. “Act all nice during the party. Offer her some blow. She doesn’t take it, slip something in her drink. Offer her a place to stay…”

“And then make sure she never leaves,” Ronnie laughs.

I was right; they’re trafficking women now, and they’ve just found their latest target. They’ll rope her in tonight, having her come to their party, then never let her go. Soon they’ll have her turning tricks for them.

My fists clench at my sides. I glance over at my bottle, now almost empty. I’m this close to cracking Thump over the head with it and beating Hawk and Ronnie until they’ve got no teeth left in their skulls, but the last thing I need right now is to get arrested. I’ve got shit to handle, and that wouldn’t solve the problem anyway. She’d still be in danger. She’d write it off as just another bar fight and then end up back at the clubhouse in a week or two for the same thing.

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