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“No. No trouble,” I said, waving my finger.
Our other cook didn’t speak English but sounded concerned. It was sort of sweet how everyone who worked there was concerned for me, a single pregnant woman. Sweet when it wasn’t pitiful.
Jesus translated for Mateo, “He saw men in the same vests in here the other morning.”
I’d missed it. Our usual breakfast was so busy I wouldn’t know if I was coming or going.
“You run with them?” Jesus asked. “The Royal Bastards?”
“Not by choice,” I said all too honestly.
“If you’re in any trouble, Mateo and I can take them out,” Jesus said, all serious.
“I ain’t,” I promised them.
“Are you sure, Jefa? I have a gun in my truck. They’ll never suspect it.”
I didn’t even consider it. “I’m sure.” Leaving was one thing, but Kingpin had saved my life. I wasn’t about to get him killed. He was my baby’s father.
“Then maybe you can put in a good word for my brother, Mateo and I.”
“You want to join a gang? I thought you were religious?” Jesus was pronounced the Spanish way, of course, but sometimes I thought it shouldn’t be because he was devoutly Catholic. He talked about God more than my Gran.
“Maybe I’ll convert them.” Jesus had a charming smile to go with his accent. He had enough tats to pass for a biker, though they were of the Virgin Mary and such.
“I highly doubt that,” I said, knowing the debauchery that went on at Royal Road.
Jesus stretched his neck to look out front. “Ain’t that their President. The one in the sweater.” Kingpin was so well known that Jesus took out his phone and snuck a picture of him.
I laughed thinking of a photo of the bad ass biker in the ridiculous sweater floating around the internet. Taking photos wasn’t allowed at Royal Road, but he was in public. He should’ve known better.
“You’re leaving with them, ain’t you? They can’t be all bad if you are. If you are, willingly?”
I ignored that last part. “I can put in a good word, but I don’t have much say,” I said, going to the office to count the drawer. I could hear Jesus and Mateo speaking in Spanish when I left. At least it wouldn’t take long to close. We’d been expecting it.
In no time, we were finished. As I turned off the lights, Jesus and Mateo were out front talking to Kingpin. Villain had gone outside to warm up the truck. The biker president shooed them away when I approached. The cooks left.
“I’m supposed to put in a good word,” I said as I was locking the doors.
“They said you could vouch for them. I told them your word is gold,” he said.
“They’re good kids, Kingpin. Too good for Royal Road.”
“They’re older than you, Eve.”
Not when it counted. I felt like I’d lived three lives already. “I’m about to be a mother.”
Kingpin’s eyes sparkled at my words. He placed his hands on my belly. “Yes, you are. The mother of my child.”
What was I getting myself into? We stepped out into blinding snow. Kingpin offered his elbow, and I took it so I didn’t slip and fall.
Holding his other arm up like he could stop the wind, he grumbled, “The roads are worse. We should’ve left an hour ago.”
“It’s only been thirty minutes,” I said, correcting him.
“You shouldn’t have worried about it.”
“About what, my job?” We were shouting to hear each other in the storm.
