"Hang on, I'm at the back door already," said Roar.
Roar walked into the back hallway and lowered his phone from his ear. Brage slipped the cell into his pocket, no longer needing to talk over the device.
"I'll let you make the decision." Roar stopped in front of him. "Will she benefit the bar?"
He nodded.
"Are you going to have a problem with her on the property?"
"She's her own woman if you think she's sincere about the job and not trying to hang around bikers." He pulled a cigarette out of his vest pocket and stuck the unlit smoke above his ear for when he could get outside. "It's not like I don't see a woman I've slept with every time I turn around in the clubhouse."
"Speaking of women. A couple ladies were looking for you earlier." Roar stepped away. "Go ahead and take off."
He remained in the hallway. The bar would be closing in twenty minutes. Roar had reminded him that time was short. At any time, Moroad Motorcycle could put the club in a position where they'd need to hunker down.
Striding to the back door, he pushed out into the alley. In his role as vice president, he needed to check in with the members of Slag. There was a meeting scheduled for tomorrow, and he needed to find out the members' concerns ahead of time.
Elling straightened from working on his motorcycle. Blinded by the light rigged up nearby, Brage shielded his eyes.
"Running okay?" He reached up and grabbed his cigarette from the top of his ear, lighting the end.
"Do all pots have lids?" Elling wiped his hands off on a rag. "I'm just changing the oil. I wanted to get it done before I hit the mattress."
He had Elling on the first crew that went out and protected the Slag property. "Did you see anything tonight?"
Elling shook his head. "Quiet. A couple prostitutes down at the corner."
"The working girls aren't doing any harm to us." He inhaled deeply and blew out the smoke. "Any concerns about security?"
"Meeting coming up?"
"Tomorrow." He dropped his cigarette and shredded the filter with his boot.
Every member understood the risks of what Slag was doing. They not only had to support themselves but provide guns and money to the Slag Mother Chapter in Norway. For that to remain possible, the Portland Chapter needed to draw the attention away from Seattle where the shipments went out on one of the cargo ships.
The best way for that to happen was to force the other motorcycle clubs in the Pacific Northwest and inner PNW to come after Slag. Make them too busy to stop the shipment.
He slipped his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. It could be any day that the Feds got a whiff of what they were doing and moved in closer.
One step. One slip. One fuck-up and Slag could lose men.
It was imperative they make no mistakes.
Chapter 4
Monica held a bag up in the air and gingerly stepped over the train tracks. Dinah sat on the step of the rental house and clutched her cell, praying her brother wouldn't call her again in the next several minutes until she could send Monica away.
"Why in the world would you wear four-inch heels to walk across the tracks?" Dinah stood and stepped down into the grass.
"Oh, trust me. It's not a mistake I'll make again." Monica made it to the edge of the yard and kicked off her shoes, leaving them behind, and approached her. "Roar wanted me to bring over these outfits and see if they'll fit you. They belonged to a previous employee but have been laundered. You're about her size, well before she got pregnant."
She removed one of the shirts, looked at the tag, and held it up. "I think it'll fit."
"If not, I'll order new uniforms for you. Since you were hired last night and plan on working tonight, we didn't have time to get everything together." Monica looked behind her. "It's strange to be over here. We're neighbors, but I've never seen the tracks from this side before. It really has an industrial feel. I'm surprised people wanted to build houses this close to the trains."
"Old homes. I bet they were here before the railroad came through." Dinah hugged the sack. "How long have you been living at the clubhouse?"
"A year, I think." Monica wiggled her toes in the grass. "It's been an adjustment."
"Where are you from?"
"Seattle." Monica blew her lips, making a raspberry. "I'm used to seeing the water. I miss it."
"What's stopping you from moving back?" Dinah waved her hand. "Not that I want you to move. I just met you, and you're my only friend around here."
Monica shrugged. "I go with the club, with Joel. I wouldn't be happy being apart from him. It's tough enough when he's gone overnight on a run."
In her life, she'd never had time to nurture a relationship. Simply trying to survive on her own took consumed her life. Not to mention bailing her brothers out of trouble all the time took up any freedom she had when she wasn't working.
"Yeah, I get that," she said softly.
Homesick to go back to Idaho, she understood living somewhere that would never be home.
"I better get back." Monica pointed behind her. "Joel's waiting for me."
She raised her gaze and followed the fence line in the distance and found a figure standing outside the gate. Finding it odd that Monica wasn't allowed to walk over without someone watching out for her, she kept her opinion to herself. "I'll see you tonight."
"Enjoy the rest of the day." Monica retrieved her shoes and slipped the heels on her feet. "Try and take a nap. You're going to be tired the first week before you rearrange your sleeping schedule."
"I'll try." She waved before returning to the house. Instead of staying outside, she walked in and texted Tony with information that pointed to Slag
