Page 6 of Brage & Dinah

"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 an invite to a Slag party. Regardless of Tony's rush to get her to work faster, she'd need to wait until the weekend to try and slide her way into hanging out with them again.

She opened the door and stopped near the fire ring shooting flames in the air and looked around the busy room for an empty seat in Monica's section of the bar.

Most of the tables were occupied. Deciding to sit on a stool at the bar, she took the first one nearest her.

The bartender, wearing a Slag leather vest, approached the counter. "What can I get you?"

She needed to watch how much money she spent. While she would love a drink, she needed food.

"I'd like an order of chicken fingers and fries." She leaned against the bar. "Ice water would be great."

The man motioned to someone else in the room and stepped away. So many of the Slag members were blond of some shade and had long hair. With the leather vest, it was hard to keep them all straight. She couldn't remember if she'd met the bartender at the party or not.

She half-turned on the stool and found a waitress approaching her with a smile.

"She wants the chicken basket," said the bartender.

"Thanks, Peer." The woman's gaze came back to Dinah. "Anything to drink?"

"I've got that part," said Peer.

"Great. I'll get the food order for you." The woman moved around the counter and hung up a piece of paper in the kitchen window, then turned back around. "I'm Coco. If you need anything else, I'll be happy to help you."

"Th-thanks." Dinah looked away, so as not to be caught staring.

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