5 Bikers for Valentines

“I was tallying up the register the night before. You know, laying out the week’s profit and adding all that shit up for Booker. This month alone, she’s consumed over seven hundred dollars’ worth of free fucking drinks.”

“Are you serious?” I asked.

“Yep. Over two hundred every damn week. We’re going to get fired for it. You know Booker

would fire us before he kicks her dumb ass out.”

“Which is bullshit, anyway. We’ve been loyal to that place for years.”

“Don’t deflect. This is serious. I know you think moving out’s going to solve your problems, but your mother can always come knocking on your door.”

“Or fucking barge in,” I said.

“Teach her now that she can’t railroad you, and when you move out, she’ll actually understand the lesson. Plus, her fucking antics when she gets drunk are enough. The bouncers have been complaining to Booker. They’ve been asking him for more money on the nights she comes in.”

“What the fuck,” I said, groaning.

“We have to stop it. Otherwise, we’re going to lose our jobs.”

“I hear you, Lindy. Okay? I’m just trying to fucking wake up. I’m still on my first cup of damn coffee.”

“Oh, shit. Why the hell didn’t you tell me? I figured you’d had a pot by now,” she said.

“I wish. At this point, I’d have to bathe in it to get over my traumatic morning.”

“Want to get together today?” she asked.

“I’m thinking about it. Honestly, part of me wants to roll back into bed and sleep this shit off already.”

“Well, if you want to come over, then come. It’s gonna be a movie day for me,” she said.

“I’ll think about it. Oh. Question. Since the president of the Road Warriors wants to bang you—”

“He doesn’t want to bang me,” Lindy said.

“He talks to you every time you’re there and he’s there, right?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Then he wants to bang you. Have you talked to him lately?”

“A couple of days ago. I caught him going into the bar as I was leaving. Why?” she asked.

“How did he seem?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like did he seem upset? Worried? Tense?”

“Uh, I mean, it was pitch black, and I was tired as fuck, but now that you mention it, he was a bit distracted. I talked with him for a bit, but his eyes were darting around a lot. That’s not really like him. He’s an eye contact kind of guy.”

“On your tits?” I asked, grinning.

“I hate you. Anyway, yes. Now that you mention it, he did seem off. Why?”

“Just wondering. I think some shit’s going down with their club.”

“Why do you think that?” she asked.