Page 4 of Outlaw

“You got it.” Mullet unlocks a back door in the bar and shows us inside. I’ve been back here a dozen times, maybe more. We’ve held MC meetings back here once in a while. The room is large enough. I’d guess sixteen feet by twenty-four feet. It’s painted black and large, leather sofas lining the space. There are two windows on the back wall and a television mounted on the opposite side. I wonder why there’s not a feed playing of the band, but I don’t suggest it.

“Who doubles the sour?” I say, lowering onto the far corner of the sofa.

Tilly laughs, though it seems forced. “It’s good. It’s like lemonade but hot.” She’s nervous. Her shoulders are so tight she’s barely moving.

“I hope you’re okay with this. We can leave the door open or go down to the diner instead. I’m just not a crowd guy.”

This bit of reassurance relaxes her a little. “No. It’s fine. This is good. I… I’m just… nothing. This is good.”

“Please tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. This is good.” She smooths her hand down over dress and Mullet makes his way back in with a grin, a few drinks, and a giant bowl of chips and salsa. It’s the strangest thing to serve in bottomless quantities, but people seem to like it, including Tilly.

“I’ll bring more out. Just push the bell,” he adds before stepping out of the room.

Tilly reaches into the bowl and scoops salsa onto a chip, crunching it down before sipping her whiskey with double sour. Despite the snack, her limbs are bouncing again.

Now, if I didn’t know she was the bounty I’d been searching for, I’d wonder what she was anxious about. Unfortunately for her, I knew Tilly was Faith the second I laid eyes on her at the salon.

She glances toward me. “So… how does someone get a name like Outlaw?”

I smile, filtering through my options as I speak. “Everyone thinks it’s this badass nickname the MC gave me, but my mom started callin’ me Outlaw back before I started school. Apparently, I liked stealing cookies before dinner. So…”

Her face lights and her breathing becomes metered again. I almost feel bad for her. She’s all over the place.

“From stealing cookies to motorcycle guy. I guess Outlaw is fitting. I’ve never been around a guy who rides a bike before.”

“Really? You ever been on a bike?”

She shakes her head, fluffing back her dark hair. I like this version of her better than the one in the picture. In the photo, her hair was blonde, but clearly, she’s better suited with dark hair. It’s more natural.

“Never,” she says. “I think it scares me a little.”

The woman is robbing banks in Montana and Wyoming, but she’s scared of motorcycles?

“I’ll take you for a ride later. I promise to be careful with you.”

She smiles but doesn’t respond. Instead, she takes another sip of her shot. “So, do you like… have a club? You wear the vest, so I’m guessing the emblem means something.”

“Yeah. There’s a few of us. Currently, I’m in charge, but we’re a little less structured than your typical MC. It’s probably on account of the members we’ve got. Not a lot of rule followers in our ranks.” I try to flash her a calming smile. The last thing I want to do is spook her. “What about you? What’d you do before you came out here?”

I’m not sure what the plan is here. I could’ve cuffed her back at the salon. Hell, I probably should’ve. Lucky for her, the longer I look at that face, the more curious I get. Women don’t usually commit crimes like this, and almost never on a scale this large.

Two million dollars. Two banks. Two states. It’s rare for anyone, let alone a beautiful young lady such as herself. She’s an anomaly that I need to understand better.

“Oh. Um… before I came out here?” Her tone is high again.

I nod, wondering how far she’ll go before I need to stop playing with my prey. Momma hated me stealing cookies, but nothing would bring out the strap quicker than me playing with my food.

Sorry, Momma. I’m having too much fun!

“Before I came out here, I was a waitress.”

“Where at?”

They should’ve called me ‘human lie detector’ and not Outlaw, because I’m homing in on everything the girl is doing. Her enthralling eyes are dilated, her naturally elegant skin is now wrought with goosebumps, and she’s letting out the softest pants from her full lips as she tries to collect herself.

“Just at this place is called The Diner,” she finally says.

---