Page 25 of The Devil's Viking

“Ohhh-kaay,” Wolf said. “Now. I ain’t sendin’ you back to Utah.”

“Y – you’re not?” She wiped her eyes.

“No. I’m not. I’m an asshole in too many ways to count, but I won’t throw anyone to the cult-wolves.” He grinned. “The only wolf you gotta worry about around here is me, and I’m tryin’ to be your friend.”

“Y – you are?”

“I am.” Wolf leaned forward. “Now, we know how you got here, and why you jumped into the back of a stranger’s van. We have a pretty good idea what you’re runnin’ from, and no need to go into all the details because I’m sure Gideon is a fuckin’ kool-aid dispensin’ psycho.”

Iris nodded quietly.

“OK, so. Then I think that all we need to talk about is what we do with you.”

“You mean…me being the club whore?”

Wolf blinked. “Ummmm, no. I mean younotbein’ the club whore. I mean we make a deal between us.”

“A deal?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. A deal. We help you, you help us.” Wolf held out his hands, palms-up. “The way I see it is that you got yourself out of a heavily-guarded compound, so you put time into an escape plan that actually worked. I know gettin’ to Colorado as a stowaway was all improvized – and way to seize the opportunity when you saw it, by the way – but you’re here now. Wherever you’d have ended up, you’d have needed money, clothes, a place to stay. So… what was the plan?”

Iris sighed. “I stole money from Gideon.”

“Good girl,” Wolf approved and Scars almost laughed. “Teach that cult motherfucker a lesson. How much did you get?”

“Three hundred and twelve dollars.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes. It took almost six months, but I was scared he’d notice if I took too much at one time.”

“That ain’t a lot.”

“I figured it was enough for a bus ticket out of town, then for other tickets in all directions to muddy the trail when the Guardians came looking. Cheap clothes, cheap food, cheap motel rooms.” Iris shrugged. “The plan was always to get a job and build a whole new life wherever I ended up.”

“What can you do?” Scars said.

She looked at him, puzzled. “Do?”

“Yes. Do. For a job. What skills do you have?”

“Not many.” She thought about it. “Cooking and cleaning. That’s about it. Even before the Garden, I didn’t really have a glittering resumé. I hadnoresumé, actually.”

“Any objections to cooking for a bunch of bikers and drunks?” Scars asked her. “You’re cool with ex-cons and sketchy types?”

“What?”

“Rebel needs help in the kitchen during rush times in the bar,” Scars said. “I manage Satan’s and I’ve been looking for a part-time cook, but no luck so far. I figure you can help when he’s overloaded, and then when it’s quiet, you can clean the building.”

Iris had almost stopped breathing. “Do you mean that?”

“Damn right I do, but Wolf has final say. As bar manager and club Vice-President, I can make the offer, but it’s his call.”

Iris’ eyes snapped to Wolf’s hard face; the hope was almost vibrating off of her. It made her beauty shine bright enough to chase off the winter gloom outside the window.

“Hmmm.” Wolf crossed his arms. “I’m open to it – as long as we get one issue straight between all of us.”

“Anything.”

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