Page 6 of Outlaw

“Good luck! Make tons of money!”

I force a smile and head to the car. The drive across town is short but I question myself about fifty times on the way. That man at the bar…he was so intent. But why? Those three guys didn’t seem that bad. It’s not like there’s some underground kidnapping ring in Oakville for God’s sake!

Right…?

When I pull up at the address Thump gave me, I can hear the party going on out back. The Red Lion’s clubhouse is basically just an old building – probably once a shop or something with an apartment upstairs. There’s a long line of motorcycles parked out front and I park beside them. My already high heart rate jumps into overdrive and I take a second to try and calm myself before I get out and walk to the front door where I’m greeted by a very not-friendly man who looks at me like he’s hungry and I’m what’s for dinner.

“Hi, I’m Claire,” I say, my mouth dry. “I’m here to…see Thump? I’m supposed to serve drinks tonight.”

Without speaking, he reaches behind him and knocks on the door. A few seconds later, I hear a lock move inside and it opens. The sound of hard rock music and laughter pours out, accompanied by the smell of cigarettes and alcohol. He nods for me to enter.

Do I really want to do this? There’s still time to head home. I’d feel a lot better if Violet was here with me, but she’s dancing tonight. And, as she pointed out, they didn’t invite her. My stomach’s in a pretty tight knot. This is not me. But I really need the money. How bad could it be really? A couple of hours serving drinks and I make a week’s pay.

You can do this, Claire.

I take a difficult breath of the outside air, then step into the clubhouse.

There are Red Lions everywhere – and girls. But none of the girls really…look like me. They look – and this may sound judgmental of me – they look like they’ve been around the block a bit. They also are dressed like biker chicks or rock show girls. As soon as I see them, I feel more uncomfortable than I already am.

“Well, look who it is,” a voice says from my left. I turn and see Thump smiling at me from the door to the kitchen, a beer in his hand. “You made it.”

“Hi!” I say, trying to act like I’m not about to pee my pants. “I sure did!”

His expression is relatively neutral. He’s obviously checking me out, but he’s being discreet about it. He doesn’t speak for so long that I start to get uncomfortable.

“I see you’ve got a drink already! Trying to put me out of a job?”

“Oh, we’ve got plenty of work for you to do,” he replies with a wink as a couple of men step up beside him. “Why don’t you come on out back with us?”

One of the guys is wearing a pair of loose jeans that have ridden way down – so far down that I can see the top of his pubic hair sticking out. It also looks like he skipped wearing underwear today. It’s kind of gross, but I keep my shit together. That is, until I see the bulge in his pants.

“Where’d you find this sweet thing?” he asks Thump, his voice low but not low enough that I can’t hear. Did he think I couldn’t, or is he deliberately letting me in on the conversation?

“Over at Ta-Tas,” Thump replies in a normal tone of voice.

“Fresh,” the other guy says, clicking his tongue against his teeth.

Yeah…I can’t do this. I reach into my purse and grab my phone, pretending to get a text.

“Oh, that’s my mom!” I say quickly as I unlock and start to make a call. “Just let me take this and I’ll be right back—”

I move for the front door, but a hand catches my arm and pulls me back. Before I can react, another hand grabs

my phone and pulls it away.

“Hey!” I cry out as Thump stuffs my cell into his jacket pocket.

“Sorry, sweet thing. No phones allowed in the clubhouse.”

“But I—”

“Come on,” the other creepy man says. “Let’s take you out back to the rest of the boys.”

There’s no point in struggling. Just one of these men is strong enough to subdue me if he wanted to, and I’m surrounded by them. As I’m pulled through the house and into the back yard, I start to regret my decision. I really don’t want to be here.

We reach a bonfire and the man lets me go. I look around for the drinks I’m supposed to be serving – a bar or anything like that – but all I see are men with beers in their hands and looks on their faces that make my skin crawl.

“You…you said I’d be serving drinks…” I say, my voice a whisper that barely falls from my lips.

---