Because of his contradicting looks, she'd pegged him as a rough loner out of her reach. Maybe even taken by one of the women wandering around at the clubhouse.
"What do you suggest? Because I've tried everything. I've hung out at The Fire Ring. The woman who works there as a server invited me to one of their parties. And, it was lucky I even went, because I got stuck in town after getting gas and couldn't even pull down the street and get to the rental with all the cars parked around the club. I ended up leaving my Jeep in town, and I worried all night that someone would break one of the windows or pop the tires." She sighed. "This isn't easy, Tony."
"You're a woman. Hit on the men. They're not going to turn you down."
She scoffed. His comment hit too close to home, but that was not the reason she got together with Brage.
"I think this is a dead end. They're not going to divulge any information to a stranger. I should go home. You can figure out another way to find out what Slag Motorcycle Club is doing."
While she was gone, Tony stayed at her apartment, giving his word that he would pay her rent in exchange for her helping him. His history of following through on his promises left her wondering if she'd even have a place to go home to or if she'd have an eviction notice on the door once the job was over. The chances of him bailing on paying rent or destroying the apartment were much higher than her getting the information he needed from the biker club.
Whatever he'd done to get in trouble with Moroad Motorcycle Club made him desperate. The sooner she could finish the job for him, the faster she could go home.
"Maybe you should come to Portland and do the job yourself," she said.
"Damnit, Dinah." Tony's voice grew louder. "Do you want me to go back to prison?"
She pressed two fingers to her temple. Tony was on probation and couldn't leave the state of Idaho. Though, she knew he often broke that rule.
Her desire to convince him to let her stop spying on Slag Motorcycle Club left and she inhaled deeply. "Shut up. You know I don't want you getting in any more trouble."
"Then, get your ass inside the club and tell me what they're planning on doing. Tonight."
"I'll try."
"You need to do better than try," he said.
"Shit." Her spine straightened. "What do you think I should do? Throw myself at every member and ask if I can become one of the club girls?"
Tony remained silent.
Irritated at him, she whispered, "Screw you."
"Do whatever you need to do." Tony disconnected the call.
She raised her hand, wanting to throw the phone into the small front yard. Just once, she'd like someone to put her needs first. For twenty-six years, she'd always put her brothers first in her life. If they wanted money, she gave them all she had. If the police arrested them, she posted their bail, often going without food and necessities.
Who took care of her? Not her brothers. For as long as she could remember, she was on her own. From the time she was six years old, she got herself dressed, fed, and to school. Then, she lied, so her teachers wouldn't find out that nobody was home to take care of her.
She walked back into the house. Deep down, she knew Tony and her oldest brother, Brad, loved her in their own way. They may never show it or say it, but they stayed in contact with her. Granted, it was always because they needed something, but it was a sign they needed her in their lives.
Even with Brad in prison, Tony visited their brother whenever he could, and she sent money every other Friday to the penitentiary.
She showered, blew out her hair, put makeup on, and slipped into a pair of jeans. The night was warm, and she decided on a tank top and flip flops to finish the outfit. She hadn't brought a ton of clothes with her, hoping the job would take a week and she'd be able to go back to her apartment in Coeur d'Alene.
A month later, and she missed the comfort of her own bed. She missed stopping at the lake and walking the path. She missed her normal routine.
She should be using the time away to find another job. The car dealership she worked at gave no sign that they'd be hiring back those who were laid off.
Taking one last look in the mirror, she put her cell in her back pocket and walked out of the house, leaving the porch light on. The sun had gone down, and even with the light at the corner of the street, the area freaked her out in the dark. Too many stories of hobos jumping trains in her childhood fed into that fear.
She hurried across the grass. Looking both ways numerous times, she navigated her way over the steel rails of all four train tracks. Once she stepped onto the side street, she caught her breath.
The Slag clubhouse sat to the right. Though the high fence made it impossible for her to look inside. As she grew closer to the gate, blocking off the alley, she looked for the man who would often be standing on the sidewalk, but she was alone.
Slowing her pace, she walked to the corner and turned in front of The Fire Ring. Aware the customers inside could see her, but she couldn't look through the window, she kept her expression neutral.
Her frequency at the bar had allowed her to get friendly with Monica and gained her
