Train's Clash
Page 73

 Jamie Begley

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By the time he was done listening to what Jewell needed done and switched the office calls to his desk, he found Killyama had completed three orders and was waiting for him to check them before she closed the boxes.
“You’re quick. You ever want to quit hunting fugitives, I’ll hire you.”
“The Last Riders would fire you if that happened.”
Train sat down next to her. “No, they wouldn’t. They would give me a raise.”
“Dude, you steal some of Rider’s bullshit cologne? I know they can’t stand me.”
“No, babe, they can,” Train insisted.
“Ember looks like she needs your help.” He felt the hurt she was masking when she stood up, sending the top of the stool spinning.
Train carried a large box to the mail cart for Ember, and when he came back, Killyama was working on another order. Then he was called away again by someone else. With Jewell gone, he had to troubleshoot any problems the workers had. He was then helping Rider fix the postage machine when Killyama tapped him on the back.
“I’m done with the orders on your desk. You have any more?”
“You’re done with the whole stack?”
“Yes, and Stori checked the boxes for me to make sure I did them right.”
“You could help me with mine until we get this machine working again.” Rider swiped an ink-stained hand across his cheek.
She raised the bottom of her shirt to wipe the smudge away. “Whatcha gonna do for me if I do?”
Train had never seen Rider flustered. If he hadn’t seen it himself, he wouldn’t have believed it was possible.
“What do you want?”
“When’s your birthday?”
“Why do you care when Rider’s birthday is?” Train narrowed his eyes at her.
“Because I want to be there. You guys get some good shit.”
“Next month,” Rider answered.
“I’ll finish your orders for you if you let me have the stuff you don’t want.”
“If I don’t want it, why would you?” he asked suspiciously.
“I’m not as picky as you fuckers are. We got a deal?”
Rider nodded. “Only if I don’t want whatever it is.”
“Okay. Where’s your work desk?”
Rider pointed toward the back of the factory.
“I see who’s got the brains between you.”
“Why?” Rider stared at her then looked at him.
Train shrugged, not knowing what she was inferring.
“Sucker. Train’s workstation is by the boxes, popcorn spreader, and the mail cart. You have to practically walk through the entire factory every time you need those things.”

Train bent down to look at the postage machine as Killyama strutted off toward Rider’s desk.
Rider fumed. “We’re switching stations.”
“Don’t blame me. I gave you first choice when we started working here.” Train tried to keep from laughing.
“After you talked me into the one I’m at now. You told me it was farther away from Shade’s desk. He doesn’t work out of the office anymore, so you can switch me—”
“You really want Jewell watching every move you make? She already stays on your case for texting so much.”
Train finally fixed the postage machine without Rider’s help since he was busy studying the layout of the factory so he could move his workstation closer to the equipment and not have Jewell’s censuring gaze on him.
Train lost track of what Killyama was doing when Stori came to complain that the seed refrigerator was leaking. He thought Rider wasn’t the only sucker in the factory. Jewell had probably wanted the day off to keep from having to deal with the problems that were waiting to be fixed.
The rest of the day flew past. Every now and then, he caught sight of Killyama as she worked. But, as the workers started to leave, he didn’t see her.
He walked through the factory and was about to go out the back door to see if she had decided to take a break when he saw her coming out of the door marked PRIVATE.
“How did you get in there?” Train asked her sharply. The only ones who had a key to that part of the factory were the founding members. They were never allowed to let anyone inside.
“It was open. I was looking for a packet of seeds. I must have gone in the wrong room.”
Train clenched his teeth in fury at the lie. “That door is never open.”
“Dude, I don’t know what to tell you; it was open.”
He stared at her angrily. “Tell me the fucking truth for once. How’d you get in the door?”
She narrowed her eyes at him, her lips tightening. “I’m. Not. Lying. What’s the big deal, anyway? The bikes and cars in there are nice, but they aren’t anything I haven’t seen before.”
“The big deal is that, unless you have a key, no one is supposed to be in there, so you couldn’t have gone in there unless you have a key.” Train looked down at his keys that were attached to his wallet, seeing the one to the door was still there.
“Maybe I picked the lock.” Her smartass answer didn’t lessen his anger.
“No, the door is solid steel, and so is the lock. Unless you have a blowtorch, no one is going through that door without a key. What was in there you wanted to see?”
“I was looking for the s-e-e-d-s,” Killyama ground out. “You need me to spell it out again?”
“No, I got it the first time. Empty out your pockets.”
“Are you serious? You really think I’m lying?”
“Empty your pockets, Killyama. Prove it to me.”
“I’m not proving shit to you. The door was unlocked. Why would I lie?”
“I don’t know,” Train snarled sarcastically. “Why do you lie about anything? You lied about going to the Brown’s training camp. You lied about working in Sex Piston’s shop. Shit, you lie about what you eat for breakfast if you don’t want me to know, even though I told you lying was a rule breaker for me.”
“I only lie when it’s none of your business. I don’t need you keeping tabs on me!” she snapped.
“Well, that’s not going to be a problem for you anymore.”
“What’d you mean by that?”
“It means, I’m done. I won’t take the safety of the club over you.”
“I am not lying, Train.”
“I don’t believe you. Are you going to empty your pockets, or do I have to empty them for you?” He had to give her one last chance, praying she would empty out her pockets and prove she wasn’t lying to him.
She crossed arms over her chest. “Go fuck yourself.”
“Don’t make me do this, Killyama. Just give me the key, and I’ll forget about it.” Again, he gave her a chance to redeem herself. It was a chance he would never offer another man or woman.
“No.”
Train sighed, motioning to Rider who had been slipping up to Killyama as they argued. She caught the movement too late to react as Rider caught her in a bear hug, pinning her arms to her sides.
“Did you lock the front door?” Train asked Rider.
“Yes.” Rider looked as coldly furious as he did.
Train caught Killyama’s foot when she tried to kick him, holding it by his hip. Moving to her side where she couldn’t use her free leg, he shoved a hand down the pocket that was closest to him. Coming up empty, he had more difficulty in the other pocket, finally succeeding, just to find it was also empty. She stopped moving as he reached around her to search her back pockets.