6: Job Interview from Hell

Sarah's pov

Betty called me the next morning while I was still in bed trying to convince myself to get up and face the day.

"Cain wants to see you at the bar this afternoon. Two o'clock sharp. Don't be late."

"What's this about?" I asked, sitting up and trying to shake off the grogginess. "I thought I already had the job."

"You passed the trial run but the brothers want to do a formal interview before making it official. It's standard procedure for anyone working at the Nest."

The brothers. That meant all three of them would be there. Cain with his cold gray eyes, the blonde one I'd seen hustling pool, and the quiet dark haired man who watched everything. The thought of facing all three at once made my stomach tighten with nerves.

"Okay. I'll be there at two."

"Dress nice but not too nice. They want to see the real you, not some polished version trying to impress them."

I hung up and stared at my reflection in the bedroom mirror. The blonde hair still looked strange to me even after a week of living with it. Sarah Walsh was buried somewhere under Ivy Blake's appearance but I could still see traces of who I really was if I looked hard enough.

The real me was a cop seeking justice for her murdered brother. The real me had no business walking into a room with three dangerous men who might have ordered Tommy's death. But Ivy Blake would go to that interview and she'd do whatever it took to get permanently hired at the Vulture's Nest.

I spent the next few hours preparing. Showered and did my makeup with more care than usual. Chose dark jeans that fit well and a black tank top that showed my fake tattoos. Added the leather jacket and boots that completed the look. By the time I was done, Ivy Blake stared back at me from the mirror with confidence I didn't actually feel.

The Vulture's Nest looked different in daylight. Less threatening somehow without the darkness and cigarette smoke obscuring everything. The neon sign was off and only two motorcycles sat outside instead of the dozen from last night.

I walked in and found Betty behind the bar doing inventory.

"They're waiting for you in the back office," she said without looking up from her clipboard. "Down the hallway, last door on the right. And Ivy? Just be yourself. They can smell bullshit a mile away."

The hallway was narrow and poorly lit with walls that needed paint. I passed a storage room and what looked like a kitchen before reaching the door Betty had indicated. I knocked twice and waited.

"Come in," Cain's voice called from inside.

The office was bigger than I expected with a desk, filing cabinets, and a worn leather couch against one wall. All three brothers were there. Cain sat behind the desk while the blonde one leaned against the filing cabinets and the dark haired man stood near the window with his arms crossed.

"Ivy Blake," Cain said, gesturing to a chair in front of the desk. "Have a seat."

I sat down and tried to look relaxed even though every instinct was screaming at me to run. Being in a closed room with three men suspected of murder wasn't smart but I didn't have a choice if I wanted to maintain my cover.

"This is my brother Jax," Cain continued, nodding toward the blonde man. "And that's Ryder. We run the Steel Vultures together and make all major decisions about club business including who works in our establishments."

"Nice to meet you both," I said, looking at each of them in turn.

Jax smiled and there was something unsettling about it. Not threatening exactly but predatory, like he was sizing me up and finding the experience entertaining. "Betty says you did well last night. No complaints from customers and you didn't freak out when things got rowdy."

"I've worked bars before. Takes more than some drunk guys arguing over a pool game to rattle me."

"What about when things get violent?" Ryder asked. His voice was deeper than his brothers and he spoke quietly like he didn't waste words on unnecessary conversation. "Last month we had a situation where two clubs got into it over territory disputes. Bottles got thrown, blood got spilled. How would you handle something like that?"

"I'd get out of the way and let security handle it. I'm not getting paid enough to break up fights between bikers."

Cain leaned back in his chair and studied me with those intense gray eyes. "Smart answer. But what if security isn't fast enough and someone comes over the bar at you? What if you become the target?"

"Then I defend myself. I'm not going to just stand there and take a beating."

"You know how to fight?"

"Enough to handle myself if I have to."

That wasn't a lie. Five years as a cop meant defensive tactics training and range time. I knew how to throw a punch and how to take someone down if necessary. But Ivy Blake couldn't have police training so I'd have to be careful about what skills I revealed.

"Show me," Ryder said suddenly.

I looked at him in confusion. "Show you what?"

"Show me you can handle yourself. Stand up."

This was a test and refusing would raise suspicions. I stood up and moved away from the desk to give myself room. Ryder walked over and positioned himself in front of me, close enough that I could smell his cologne mixed with leather.

"Someone comes at you from the front. What do you do?"

He moved fast, reaching for my shoulders like he was going to grab me. Instinct kicked in and I sidestepped, using his momentum to pull him off balance while driving my elbow toward where his ribs would be. I stopped just short of making contact.

Ryder caught my arm and held it there, his grip strong but not painful. "Not bad. You've had some training."

"Self defense class after my ex got too rough one night. Figured it was better to know how to protect myself than rely on someone else to do it."

"Your ex still around?" Jax asked from across the room.

"No. Last I heard he was in county lockup for assault. Turns out I wasn't the only one he liked to use as a punching bag."

That story was part of Ivy Blake's background. A violent ex boyfriend who taught her not to trust easily and to always watch her back. It explained why she'd be comfortable in rough environments and why she wouldn't run to the cops if something bad happened.

Ryder released my arm and stepped back. "You'll do. Just remember that if real trouble starts, you get behind the bar and stay down until it's over. We protect what's ours but we can't do that if you're standing in the line of fire."

Something about the way he said "what's ours" made my skin prickle. Like I was already being claimed as part of their territory even though I'd only worked one shift.

I sat back down and Cain pulled out some paperwork from his desk drawer. "Standard employment contract. You'll work Thursday through Sunday nights to start, six to close. Pay is fifteen an hour plus tips. You get one free drink per shift and a meal if you work more than six hours."

"Sounds fair."

"There are rules you need to understand before you sign. First, what you see and hear in this bar stays in this bar. You don't talk to cops, reporters, or anyone else about our business. Second, you don't steal from us. Not money, not booze, not information. Third, you treat club members with respect even if they're being assholes. They're our family and family gets special consideration."

"And if I break these rules?"

"Then you'll find out why people don't cross the Steel Vultures twice." Cain's voice was matter of fact, like he was discussing the weather instead of threatening me. "We take care of our own but we also handle problems permanently when they arise."

I picked up the pen and signed the contract using Ivy Blake's name. The signature felt like sealing a deal with the devil but it was too late to back out now.

"Welcome to the team," Jax said, pushing off from the filing cabinet. "We'll see you Thursday night. Don't disappoint us, Ivy."

I stood to leave but Ryder moved to block the door. He was even bigger up close, all solid muscle and quiet menace. For a moment we just looked at each other and I felt that same strange awareness I'd experienced last night with Cain.

Then Ryder leaned down close enough that his breath touched my ear when he spoke.

"We know exactly what you smell like now," he whispered, his voice so low only I could hear it. "You can never hide from us."

The words sent a chill down my spine that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with something primal I didn't understand. When Ryder stepped aside to let me pass, my legs felt unsteady as I walked down the hallway.

What did he mean by that? How could they know what I smelled like and why would that matter? Unless they suspected I was undercover and were warning me they'd be watching my every move.

I made it to my car before I started shaking. The interview had gone well on the surface but underneath there were undercurrents I couldn't interpret. The way all three brothers looked at me like they knew something I didn't. The way Ryder had invaded my personal space and made that cryptic statement about my scent.

And most disturbing of all was my reaction to them. Not just fear or professional caution but something else entirely. Something that made my pulse race and my body respond in ways that had nothing to do with the danger they represented.

I drove home trying to process what had just happened. I'd gotten the job officially which meant I'd have regular access to the Vulture's Nest and the Steel Vultures themselves. That was exactly what I needed to find out who killed Tommy.

But the cost of that access might be higher than I'd anticipated.