Keys, our tech man is tapping on the keyboard of his laptop but looks up at Tracker. “I’ll get onto this, Pres. Leave it with me and I’ll report what I find as I find it.” As soon as Tracker gives him a nod, he’s out of church and heading back to his office.
Tracker eyes the rest of us. “Make sure everyone knows to watch themselves and monitor the businesses. At least we only have the two now, but they both could make the brothers vulnerable. Nobody goes out on their own. Church, day after tomorrow.” We all exit the office because we know by his tone, Tracker was finished, for now at least.
Chapter 4
CILLA
Bono is in my ear this morning, being more than persistent that I contact the MC about the clubhouse being bombed. “For goodness’ sake, Bono, be quiet,” I can’t help but say that out loud. I try to do it in my mind because they can hear me, but sheesh it’s just natural to speak. It has gotten me into trouble, and some very odd looks, but you know, I don’t care.
*Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall*
Oh, the shit is singing to me. “No, Bono, don’t do it,” I near enough beg.
*Ninety-six bottles of beer on the wall*
I grab my phone where I’d left it on the counter and I type out a message because it’s only 5:15 in the morning, and any sensible person would still be asleep in bed.
Cilla: I’m sorry it’s early, but can you arrange an appointment for me to speak to your person in charge?
“Are you happy now, Bono?” I snap because this is mentally abusive in my opinion. “Stop with the bottles.”
*Eighty-five bottles of beer on the wall*
I slam up my mental barrier so fast and solidly that I have to grab hold of the kitchen counter, because of the dizzy rush that sweeps over me. I give myself a mental pat on the back as I can’t hear him and his freakingbottles of beeranymore.
After placing my mug from my first coffee of the day into the sink, I grab my jacket and keys. Checking everything is as it should be I rush out, lock the door and head to work for my first day.
I walk into Shelby’s Place, which is the name of the diner, and I have to think not very imaginative. I’m greeted with the sound of soft talking and the smell of cooking.
“Morning!” I shout from the front of the counter because I’m not going to risk getting into trouble on my first day. I’ll wait to be told when I can go back to the staff area.
“Morning, Cilla. Follow me,” Shelby says as she walks out of the kitchen and behind the serving counter. “This way to the staff area. From now on, just come through and get ready. I put a t-shirt and an apron out for you. If you just wear black pants or jeans it will work. I’ll give you another t-shirt so you have swap options in case of spillage on you.”
“Thank you, Shelby,” I politely reply, and I can see a shimmer of a person at the back of the staff area, but I don’t look, and thankfully with my barrier up, I can’t hear either.
“Come through as soon as you are changed and I’ll get you organized.” Shelby doesn’t wait for a reply. She’s out of the room and I’m standing with a t-shirt and apron in my hands.
I quickly change, leave my things in the locker provided, then meet Shelby behind the counter. The next twenty minutes I’m taught how to use the register, use the coffee machine and other things which I have to be honest, start to fly over my head.
Shelby serves alongside me, and I ask questions as and when I need to. She is very patient as she helps me get comfortable with the job. I take breakfast plates to customers, give them warm smiles, and I’m happy to see some of these are people I know.
I’m ignoring the shimmering figures that are standing behind a customer. Oh, I’m not getting involved with all that. My barrier has weakened some with the volume of people wanting to speak to me and in the background I can hear Bono.
*Fifteen bottles of beer on the wall*
Oh yes, I’m ignoring him. I’ve contacted Finger and at the moment there is nothing more I can do. When I’ve finished my shift and leave here, it will be two-ish, and if necessary I’ll ride over to the clubhouse and demand again to speak to the person in charge.
I’m feeling a little frazzled, and as it’s midmorning, I’m well ready to have a break. My legs are aching something terrible, and the pit of my spine feels like I’ve had a kick from a horse.
Shelby pats my shoulder, while grinning at me I might add. “Take a seat by the window, and I’ll get you a drink andsomething to nibble on.” I don’t miss the fact that she is laughing at me. But to be honest I don’t blame her because I look like I’ve been pulled through a hedge and back again.
A plate with a BLT, fries and pickle spears, plus a mug of coffee appear in front of me. Not one of the diner mugs either. It’s a huge thing, and I’m feeling like I need the caffeine if I’m going to get through to the end of my shift without fainting.
Shelby takes a seat across from me with the same plate. “You’ve done well, Cilla. Do you need any pain meds? I’m not messing with you, but for the first few days it knocks your system moving all the time. I’ve had help from cheerleaders and honestly, they’ve been on their knees by the end of the shift.”
I feel a little better knowing that because I thought I was fit with all the stuff I had to do at the funeral home. But this is manic if I’m being honest. “I’ll be okay thanks, Shelby. If I need any later, I’ll ask.”
“Don’t be a martyr, Cilla. If you are in pain, have the meds. It will only get worse. It’s your muscles saying,shit give me a break!” Shelby laughs at her own description.