CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The big room behind the bar at The Hangar held the brew tubs, huge silver containers with hoses, dials and gauges. The cool, damp room smelled of hops and mash, and was as meticulously clean as the bar and kitchen.
T waited only until the door thudded closed behind Rocker and Pete before letting them have it. "What the fuck?" he demanded, crossing his arms to glare down at both of them. "You both got a nerve treating Manda like she's trash. She's a real nice girl who got a raw deal, an' I like her—a lot."
"Now, T," Rocker said, "You know little to nothin' about her. How 'bout you slow it down till I have a chance to do a background check on her?"
"Yeah," Pete added. "And find out if her sad story is even true?"
T focused on Pete. "Really, Brews? Oh, you mean, like find out if she's been fired for embezzling? Or, maybe just made a mistake on who to trust?"
Pete reddened, as well he should. It hadn't been that long since he'd been convinced his own fiance was a thief who specialized in taking advantage of her employers and then moving on—and he’d treated her as if it were true. "That ain't the same at all," he muttered.
T snorted. "Yeah, and I coulda told you that if you'd bothered to ask. Manda already told me she got fired from her last job 'cause she's got the same thing I got—a learning disability. Only with mine, I fuck up words. She does it with numbers. An' workin' in a paint store, they number the cans, don't put the color thingy names on the custom mixed paints till the customer buys 'em. She sold five hundred bucks worth of paint, which was 'sposed to be tan, but turned out to be hot pink."
Rocker's brows went up, and then he grinned. Pete frankly snickered. "Fuck, really?"
T shook his head, and then had to grin himself. "Yeah, and goddamn, I woulda liked to be there when that guy opened that first can."
In a moment they were all chuckling.
T sobered first. "Anyways, that's what she says happened, and I believe her. Then her lame-ass boyfriend dumped her, and Faro took over, using her bad luck to get her under his thumb. Wasn't for her bein' brave and tough, she'd still be there. But now, I'm gonna help her however I can, and you two can either cut her a break, or we'll go somewhere else for lunch."
"All right, all right," Pete cut in, lifting a hand, palm out. "Peace, brother. I'll back off—for now. But I still say Rock should do a background check on her."
Rocker said nothing, and T shrugged. "Do what you want, but I ain't payin' for it. And you find anything, you bring it to me, not her. Ain't gonna have my brothers bullying her after what she's already been through."
"Only gonna say this once, brother," Rocker said. "Then I'll let it go. But we're just takin' your back here. After Krystelle—"
"Kryssy's a cold bitch with her eyes on the pay-out," T said impatiently. "Good at suckin' dick, but about as much heart as a torque wrench. I see that clear now. But the other difference is, and honestly this is why I didn't see her ice right away, is she came on to me. With Manda, I had to talk hard and fast to even get her to stay at the clubhouse . She had the idea, with help from Rock's old buddy LaRond, that we're a gang like the Rattlers. And since she's from the Tri, she's seen them in action, in the local news and shit."
He eyed the two of them. "An I gotta say, you two been playin' right into that, trying to scare her off. Good thing your women are a lot nicer, or she'd likely be out there where Faro could get his hands on her again."
Rocker shrugged "The Boggs girls are a whole lot sweeter than any of us, for certain. All right, long as you don't mind me checkin' in to her, I'll back off. And if Brews is an asshole, I'll clock him for you."
"Yeah, you can try," Pete retorted. He and Rocker fake-punched each other.
"Good, then let's go eat, 'cause I'm starving," T said. "Plus I left a perfectly good beer on the table, getting warm."
With that settled, he headed back for lunch with Manda and his friends.
With Billie there, and Rocker now turning on the charm and doing his best to make Manda feel welcome, it was a good time. Lesa and Pete served up the piled-high, juicy burgers The Hangar was known for, with a plate of extra fries for the women to share. Manda ate most of her burger and a salad piled with all the rabbit food women seemed to like. T plowed his way through his double-cheeseburger and fries—except for the ones he slipped onto her plate.
Then he ended up eating most of them off her plate, because she didn't seem to be much of a fry lover. She offered him the rest of her burger too, but he had Lesa wrap it up for her to take, in case she got the munchies later. And who knew what was in the cupboards at the clubhouse at any given time, unless the old ladies were laying in supplies for a party or a barbecue.
Lesa brought back Manda's doggie bag, and a sandwich to go for Moke.
Then Rocker and Billie headed back to their place in Spokane, and T dropped Manda by the clubhouse before going back to work himself.
He told her to rest up, and not worry about anything. She gave him a smile, but he could see she wasn't convinced. So, he'd work on that.
* * *
With the rest of the afternoon and nothing to do, Manda ensconced herself on her borrowed bed with pillows behind her, and her phone.
First on her agenda—text her new phone number to her mom, aunt Macy and her friends.
This done, she settled back to read for a half-hour to calm her jangled thoughts and emotions. After that, she would open up some job search sites.
She woke with a start to realize she'd fallen asleep over the first chapter of her book, and the clock told her she'd napped for almost two hours. Sheesh, getting conked on the head took more out of a person than she would've thought.
She got up and traipsed into the bathroom, yawning.
At least she'd slept on her back, so her hair and eye-makeup weren't all weird. She fluffed her hair—carefully because of the bruise and drank a glass of water. Now what to do with herself? She was young, healthy and she wanted to get out of this room.
The club was quiet at three in the afternoon, so she ventured into the kitchen. She'd seen a bag of apples in the fridge. Apple in hand, she sat at the kitchen table and checked her phone for messages.
The first thing she saw was a text from her friend Chloe. 'Hey! U ok? Havnt hrd from u in daz!!!' Wide-eyed emoji followed.
Manda smiled around her mouthful of juicy apple. Wiping her fingers on the paper towel, she texted back. 'Im good. How r u?'
Chloe's reply was instant, as if her phone was handy on her desk. 'Crzy worried bout u, thats how!! Where r u?? Wuts with new #??' A screaming emoji this time.
Manda chuckled and winced at the same time. Chloe didn't believe in sparing the punctuation marks or emojis. And it was so-oooo nice to know someone was worrying about her, thinking of her. Felt like a hug across the miles.
But she hesitated before answering. Chloe was a worrier. She worried about her studies, her family, and she worried about her friends, including Manda.
Thus, Manda must be careful how much she shared, because if Chloe knew it all, she'd want to drive right up here and take Manda home with her. And that would not work. Chloe lived in a tiny apartment on the campus of her college in the outskirts of Portland, Oregon. She had very little money, and no extra time between work and study to rescue Manda.
'I'm good, honest!' Manda typed. 'Staying w frnds nr Spokane.'
'Wut?? No Tim? Shd I brk out the chmpgne & confetti??'
'No Tim,' Manda replied.
Chloe promptly blew up her phone with a string of dancing emojis and streams of virtual confetti, making Manda snort with laughter.
'No, tell me wht u rlly think!' she replied.
Her phone rang. Oops. She'd hoped to forestall an actual conversation with text. With a sigh, she answered the call. "Hi, Chlozone. I'm fine, so stop worrying."
"Fine?" her friend demanded. "Well, getting rid of that loser certainly put you a step in the right direction, but... now, if you and Tim broke up, why are you still in Spokane?"
Manda cringed. "Uh... he sort of took off and left me with—uh, one of his friends."
"What?" Chloe's voice lowered dangerously. "He dumped you in a strange town? And I presume he drove you up there, so you don't even have your car."
"True. But—"
"And what about this friend of his? Is he okay, or is he a loser like Tim?"
One could say Rezan Faro was far, far worse than Tim even thought of being. "Pretty much, but I'm not staying with him, so it doesn't matter. I'm—"
"Oh, my God! Are you, like, stuck trying to live at a mall or something? I saw that on a web article. Do you need me to come get you?"
Manda rubbed her forehead. "No! Chloe, listen. I'm fine, really. I'm staying with some really nice people."
"Oh. Well, that's cool... who are they?"
"They're, uh—they're a riding club," Manda said. "Yeah, so they have this really cool clubhouse, with rooms and a kitchen and everything. And I'm staying here, just till I get a job. Then I'll find my own place."
"Wait, what? A riding club, like horses? You don't even like horses."
"I like horses," Manda said defensively. "Everyone likes horses. They're beautiful and their noses are like velvet. But no, they don't ride horses. They ride motorcycles."
There was a short silence, then a gasp. "You're staying with a biker gang?" Chloe demanded, her voice rising. "Manda, that's bad, that's terrible! They'll-they'll give you drugs, and-and make you do things. Dirty things."
One of them already had. Except he hadn't made her, he'd made her want to do it.
"No, they won't. They're not like that. They really are a club, Chloe."
"Right. And who are they—the Spokane Angels or something?"
"The Flyers—because of the air force base nearby. They're nice people, Chlo, and T-Bear is the nicest of all."
"T-Bear? So this is about a guy? Oh, Manda."
"He’s a good guy. He looks like a big, ginger bear. And he's cuddly, too."
"Cuddly, huh? So that means you've already done the wild thing, huh? Geez, I haven't had any of that for months."
"I know," Manda sighed. "It was awesome." She had to squirm in her chair just thinking about it.
"But, sweetie, just be careful, okay? You thought Tim was awesome too, remember?"
Manda shook her head. "No. Not like this. Tim was never this sweet to me." Also, he’d never rescued her from peril, he'd dumped her straight into it.
"True. But that doesn't mean you need to be living with this biker guy already. I know I sound like a momma, but I love you. I don't want you to get hurt again. Just take your time, okay? Get your own place, and then see how it goes."
"I know," Manda said. "You're right. And that's what I'm going to do, pinky swear. I'm looking for jobs now. Soon as I get one, I'll find an apartment."
And she would. She might not be a scholar, but she wasn't a quitter either.
She unfortunately felt like a liar, though.
This situation with Rezan and Jere was the first big secret she'd kept from Chloe, and they'd been friends since freshman year in high school. They'd shared mom troubles, crushes on boys, breakups and more.
But this... no. Thus, feeling at once better and worse for talking with Chloe, Manda promised to call back soon, and ended the call with mingled relief and regret.
Next, Manda spent some time searching Spokane area job sites on her phone. This unfortunately was an exercise in frustration, because of the small screen. She needed a laptop. Would T-Bear have one? Probably not, but maybe someone else here did.
Not that she had the courage to ask any of his slightly scary brethren. Except maybe Streak—he seemed to like her okay.
She finished her apple, and drummed her fingers on the table. Crap, now she was bored. And when she was bored, she liked to cook. Recipes were hard because of the measurements, but she knew some good ones by heart.
She texted T-Bear. 'Ok for me to cook here? I saw some chicken in fridge. I could make u dinner.'
He didn't text back, he called. "Babe," he said, a smile in his deep voice. "You cook?"
She smiled back. "I like to cook. Do you think, uh, anyone would mind if I use the chicken? I could make my chicken-noodle-bake."
T groaned. "Me an’ my brothers mind a home-cooked meal? That's a big n-o, no. Go for it. Whatever you make, just make a lot."
"Okay. I can do that."
"Good. See ya in a couple hours. You want me to stop at the grocery store for anything, gimme a call. Otherwise, see you about five-thirty."
"Okay, see you."
She hummed to herself as she got busy. Searching the cupboards, and the big upright freezer beside the fridge, she found lots of noodles, frozen mixed veggies, and odds and ends of spices and flavorings.
This she knew how to do.