A job inside a job wasn’t exactly how I’d pictured this going. But it worked. IfI was going to be there every day, it would be the perfect opportunity to keep an eye on things.
“Okay, deal. But no nasty shit, okay?”
Dalton laughed at me. “You’re working for a bunch of bikers. Good luck with that.”
I sighed and pretended not to notice the way Mac watched my every move as I stood to put my cup in the sink. I turned my back to them to give myself a moment to think. A moment later, I heard the door shut, and when I looked behind me, they were both gone. Discussion over, I guess.
I’d been at this less than three days, and I felt like I was in over my head. But I was in it for the long haul, and that meant becoming a glorified maid for the Steel Saints.
Chapter 5
I was cleaning the kitchen up when Tony and a couple of his buddies came back in. They were all laughing loudly at something, ruining my moment of peace, and I side-eyed them. Tony was the only one to notice, and he waved me over to the table as they all took a seat. Sighing, I wiped my hands on the dish towel hanging from the stove and said, “What’s up, Tony? You need something?”
Tony shook his head. “No, but figured you might want to meet some of the guys. Since you somehow managed to live after smoking Mac.”
I frowned, trying to decide if that was a compliment or maybe even a warped attempt at being friendly.
Tony listed off names, and I tried to commit them to memory as best I could—if only for the sake of the case. One of them asked if I could make a bit of late lunch, and I gritted my teeth in response. From detective to making fucking sandwiches for a bunch of leather-clad nitwits. Wonderful. One of them, Luke, must have seen the sour look that crossed my face. He was one of the friendlier ones, but his eyes bore into me as I went over to the massive fridge.
“Oh, what the fuck… hey guys, what do you normally eat for lunch?”
A skinny guy with a crooked nose—Rodney, I think—shrugged. “I dunno, sandwiches or sometimes we’ll get pizza delivered.”
I held a moldy pack of cheese aloft between two fingers and brandished it at them. “In that case, moldy grilled cheese, anyone? That is, if you have bread?”
They all grimaced at me and looked at each other.
Tony said, “Yeah, I think I speak for everyone when I say nothanks. But sweet of you to offer, really.”
“Well, then someone needs to go grocery shopping.” I was met with a bunch of blank looks. “Who does the grocery shopping?” More blank looks. “You know what, I’ll figure something out, but for now, I think there are some chips in the cabinet.”
I looked at the door that leads to the garage, and then at the other door I’d seen a few bikers come in and out of, and chose the latter.
Making my way into a long hallway, I squinted at the sudden change in light. The dim hallway was lined with doors, and I peeked into a few open ones, finding small rooms that made me feel like I was in a motel. The hallway led to a sort of sitting area, which was empty, so I followed another that ended in a set of stairs, and headed down toward the distant sound of a TV. Sure enough, within a few minutes, I found a big room filled with comfy couches and recliners, and one giant flat screen. In one of the recliners sat Dalton who, to my shock, appeared to be reading a book. He looked up as I entered, almost like he sensed the presence of someone new. He smiled at me, put his book down, and got up to greet me.
“Exploring are we, Vixen? Interested in a personal tour?”
I shook my head at him. “No. Well, actually, yes. Just not right now, I have a question.” He raised a single eyebrow at me, which I assumed was my all-clear. “Your fridge has old orange juice, moldy cheese, and beer in it. And I think I saw a lemon, or what used to be a lemon.”
“That’s not a question, Vixen.”
“Well, I can’t make you guys dinner with that. I already offered Tony and a few other guys a moldy grilled cheese, and they turned me down.”
“Rude of them.”
I couldn’t help but smile a little. “Yeah, so my point is, when I asked them about grocery shopping, I might as well have asked about going to the moon.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Home etiquette isn’t reallyour thing here, unfortunately. But I can take you to the store if you want.”
“Really? I mean, I can handle it myself. I am a big girl.”
“Maybe one day, Vixen. But not yet. For now, you get an escort. It’s either me, or I can have someone else go with you.”
I sighed. “Right, got it. Can we go now?”
He nodded. “Yup, let me grab my jacket and the keys, and I’ll meet you outside.”
About ten minutes later, Dalton insisted on holding my door open as I climbed into the same truck from earlier that morning. Soon, we were roaring down the highway, and I stared out the window as Dalton turned on the radio. The silence, much to my surprise, wasn’t tense or awkward. I turned from the window and tried subtly watching him as he drove with one hand on the wheel, and the other on the center console. After a few minutes, he glanced over at me, and I felt my cheeks redden as he caught me looking.
