CHAPTER 9

Asa

I put my phone back in my pocket after I sent the text back to Royal and gave my head a little shake to clear it. She had been on my mind a lot this last week, and not just because I could picture every inch of her naked body without any effort. I was wondering how she felt about finally crossing the line, about finally getting what she wanted. I was actually a little worried that I had succeeded in making her feel bad enough about herself and her desire to tangle with a guy like me that I had finally scared her away. The fact that it bothered me on a visceral level spoke volumes about what a bad idea messing around with the pretty redhead really was. Sometimes waking up and entering the land of the living, where all those tenuous emotions lived, really sucked since I was far from being a pro at dealing with them.

On top of being all twisted up over Royal, other weird stuff had been going on all week. The attractive older lady with the arm candy had been back in the Bar twice. The first time the boy toy was with her, the second time she was alone. She spent the entire evening flirting and obviously trying to get my attention, which I happily gave to her since she was a good tipper. I wasn’t interested, not with a sexy cop doing laps in my head nonstop, but the strange part was that I wanted to warn her about what guys like me would do to a woman like her.

She was obviously well off. She was a really good-looking woman and apparently all about a good time. A few years ago I would have moved in on her like she was a gazelle on the plains. I would have inserted myself into her life. I would have lied to her, told her anything she wanted to hear. I would have taken her to bed and let her think she was special, that I loved her … and then I would’ve cleaned her out. I would have taken everything she had that wasn’t nailed down and I would’ve done it without a second thought or any remorse. Now I just wanted to tell her not to be a victim, to watch herself, because even her brainless boy toy wasn’t with her without wanting something from her.

Instead I just served her martinis and easily flirted back. I knew logically I couldn’t stop anyone from being a victim, just like I couldn’t stop Royal from courting trouble. When the woman left me her number on a cocktail napkin, I actually fought a little internal battle before chucking it in the trash. It was still really hard for me to let a sure bet go. Easy money, all the dirty and easy things that rested on the bottom, where I was so used to spending time, still had an allure that I couldn’t turn a blind eye to. Eventually the reality of the fact that keeping the number meant I would use it and the woman it belonged to hammered hard in my blood. With a curse at my own internal struggle I crumpled up the napkin and tossed it away, disgusted that the battle between the good and bad was still being waged inside of me over something so obviously wrong.

I was also having an issue with Avett.

She hadn’t shown up with any more black-and-blue marks, probably because there was no way Darcy hadn’t told Brite about the showdown with their daughter. There was nothing like an angry father that looked like an ancient Viking warrior, or a modern-day warrior for that matter, to get a handsy boyfriend to back off. But she was sullen, withdrawn, and acted really skittish and jumpy anytime I spoke to her or one of the other staff approached her. I had hired one of Dixie’s friends to work the floor with her and two part-time bartenders to relieve Rome of his shifts during the day. One was a preppy guy still in school that would fit in with the college crowd on the weekends and the other was an older guy that had been around the block a few times. He was a retired Army Ranger and was just as gruff and no-nonsense as Rome, even if he was probably twenty years older. He would be a good fit for the grizzled and grumpy day crew that lingered at the bar. Avett had gone out of her way to be rude to and dismissive of everyone. I was starting to wonder if she needed a good old-fashioned spanking to make her act right instead of getting her ass canned. I just couldn’t figure out what her deal was.

On top of her generally piss-poor attitude and penchant for snarling at anyone that got too close to her, she had asked for her paycheck early and then an advance on her check for the following week. Rome was a nice enough guy to cut her one early, but when he told her no way on the advance she had freaked out. I’d never seen a mostly grown woman throw a tantrum like that, but I was used to watching people, used to reading what was really behind their actions, and I could tell it was an overreaction fueled by fear not greed. Something was going on with the pink-haired handful and it was something not good. I would bet good money it all tied into that shithead boyfriend of hers.

Tonight, when I had cashed the bar out and tried to show the new guy what to do, it had taken three tries of counting out the drawer to realize the drop was a couple hundred dollars short. I counted it, counted it again, and then had the new guy count it twice. Two hundred and twenty bucks was gone, and the only way for it to be missing was for someone to have taken it. The new guy was freaking out, swearing he didn’t give anyone the wrong change, and it took fifteen minutes to assure him that I wasn’t blaming him for the shortage. I also reminded him that there were cameras covering pretty much every single inch of the bar, and that if he ever did want to try something shady, the eye in the sky was watching.

I made the drop short, left a note on Rome’s desk for him to call me in the morning, and briefly told him my suspicions without naming names. I couldn’t imagine Avett was stupid enough to take money out of the till knowing she was being watched, but I also knew firsthand just how brazen and bold desperation could make a person.

I only had a few minutes when I got home to make the place look presentable, not that it ever was going to look like anything other than a dump, but I tossed the clothes littering the floor into the hamper, changed the sheets, and made sure there weren’t any dirty dishes in the sink. I shouldn’t care if Royal thought I lived like a pig, but old habits died hard, and being seen as lacking even if it was simply all I could afford grated on my ego.

I looked at the clock on the microwave and realized I wasn’t going to have time to take a shower if she showed up right at three, so I poured some scotch into a plastic cup and tossed it back. I think I was nervous that she wouldn’t show. It was stupid. This was Royal. She chased down danger and jumped feetfirst into the fire on purpose. A soft knock hit the door right on time.

I pulled it open and then grunted in surprise when she swept past me with obvious impatience. She had a giant purse on her arm that she threw on the recliner and then turned to look at me with a deliberate toss of her long hair. She had on shiny black heels, and her hair was down and glimmered like a luxurious pelt. All she seemed to have on was a black peacoat that was belted at her waist and hit her right in the middle of her bare thighs. There were endless miles of bare legs on display and that sent every thought I had fleeing and all the blood in my body rushed to the part of me rising in readiness below my belt. I felt my eyebrows shoot up to my hairline as I shut the door behind her dramatic arrival and leaned back against it as my heart slid all the way to my knees and then back up.