The Dirt on Ninth Grave Page 13


“Really?” he said absently. “I didn’t see her.”

One of our third-shift servers, a tiny, elf-like creature named Shayla who looked about fourteen but was actually almost twenty-one, was just as much as in love with Lewis as he was with Francie. No, she was more in love. Lewis was simply infatuated. Shayla truly cared for him, so much so, she wanted him to have what he wanted, aka Francie. She knew he had a thing for her, and instead of flirting or asking Lewis out, she stood back and gave Francie every chance possible to see the wonderful man in front of her.

That was true love. So what I had for Reyes wasn’t so much true love as, well, stark raving obsession. Which, oddly enough, worked for me.

Erin rushed past with a tray full of drinks, reminding me I should probably get back to work. Or not. Everyone in my section was eating happily. Who was I to interrupt?

When we’d first come up with The Plan, as we were calling it, it was in direct response to a certain redhead falling head over heels for a certain raven-haired, preternatural regular. Her infatuation with Reyes had left Lewis miserable.

“Who am I kidding, Janey?” he’d said one afternoon, confiding in me, trusting me with his most precious secret.

As fate would have it, thanks to a spider bite and a headless picture that went viral of a man who’d dropped his jeans at a Chevelle concert, I knew his most precious secret, and it had nothing to do with Francie. The man in the picture became known as the Anaconda, and I knew it was Lewis because, again thanks to a spider bite and Lewis’s fear that he was going to lose his leg after he got one on the inside of his thigh, I’d seen the skull tattoo on his hip. It was exactly like the infamous Anaconda’s, right down to the words COLOR IS A LIE underneath the skulls.

Most guys would love for a photo of their little friend to go viral, but I suspected Lewis’s unwillingness to step forward into the spotlight had to do with his deep respect for his mother. He was a good guy. Who, for some reason, dropped his pants at a Chevelle concert.

Kids these days.

“She’ll never go out with me,” he’d said, drowning his sorrows, and a glazed doughnut, in a cup of joe. “Not when there are men like that on the earth.” He’d indicated Reyes with a nod.

“You’re right,” I said. When he gaped at me, I added, “Hey, I’m on your side. It’s just, the guy’s freakishly hot.” We glanced at Reyes again, my glance lingering a bit longer than Lewis’s. “She has to notice you. Really notice you.”

My mind raced, and I was busy nibbling my bottom lip when it hit me. The Plan. It was like a lightning bolt, and I was like a metal rod mounted on top of an elevated structure, electrically bonded with a wire conductor to interface with the ground and safely conduct the lightning to the earth. Excited, I turned to him, but my expression gave him pause.

“What?” he asked, suspicion in his voice.

“You need to save her.”

“From what? That guy would kick my ass.”

“Not from Reyes. Could you imagine?” I accidentally snorted as I laughed, the thought was so preposterous.

He stared at me with nary a hint of amusement in his moss green eyes.

I sobered. “Sorry, but you could save her from, I don’t know, like a robber or something.”

He turned dubious. “Sounds kind of dangerous. And where are we going to find a robber, exactly?”

“No, not a real robber. Do you have any friends who could pose as a robber? And we need a gun.”

“A gun? Look, Janey, I appreciate the sentiment —”

“You’re right,” I said, deflating. “I mean, she’ll take note of how awesome you are someday, right? Maybe in twenty years? Because girls like her always appreciate the good guys. After they’ve taken a dip in the bad end of the pool. Over and over. For several decades.”

Somewhere deep down inside I knew the unfavorable description of women I’d just given him applied to me most of all, but I’d take one for the team. This was Lewis. He deserved a shot at happiness.

He let out a resigned sigh. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

And thus The Plan was born. He was going to have his cousin pretend to rob the place, aka yours truly, while Francie looked on in horror. Lewis would save us by punching him out – they might need to practice that move – then his cousin would run before the cops got there.

Sadly, we wouldn’t be able to identify the robber. It was all going to happen so fast, Francie wouldn’t have a chance to be too scared, but once she saw Lewis in action, once she saw how wonderful he was, she’d have to fall for him. Or at least, realize he was alive.

“Your cousin knows what to do, right?” I asked him.

He nodded.

“Then this goes down tomorrow. It’ll suck if Francie calls in sick.” When he cast me a horrified look, I dismissed the thought with a wave of my hand. “She won’t. Don’t worry. That woman is as healthy as a horse.” And she wouldn’t dare miss an opportunity to see Reyes.

Speaking of whom, it had been several minutes since he’d gone to the restroom, and he had yet to come out. I gave Lewis a thumbs-up and wandered that way, feigning my own need to make pee-pee. When I entered the hall, I heard voices coming from inside the men’s room.

I’d noticed Garrett wasn’t at his table. Maybe that was who Reyes was talking to. Their voices were muffled, but I could feel strong emotion coming from inside. Like torrential strength emotion.

I bit my bottom lip and eased closer.

“Gemma said not to push her,” a male voice said.

The wall shook with a loud thud, startling me, but I wasn’t about to give up my ringside seat. I inched even closer.

“The only one I’m pushing is you.” That came from Reyes. I’d know that bourbon-rich voice anywhere.

And the other was definitely Garrett. I had no idea they knew each other. They never spoke. Never said hi. Never called each other bitch, as men were wont to do.

Garrett said something else, but his voice sounded oddly strained, so I couldn’t make it out.

“What’s going on?” another male voice said from beside me. Right beside me.

I swung around and jumped with a humiliating squeak before offering Osh my best glare. It was good, too. So good, I’d thought about naming it. But that might seem weird.

“Osh, what the hell?”

That Cheshire grin spread across his face. He looked past me toward the door. “What are you doing?”

I fought the urge to follow his gaze. “Nothing.”

“Eavesdropping?” he asked, as though repeating what I’d said.

He stepped closer. So close I had no choice but to back up. I kept backing until I hit the door, but I stood my ground from there. I raised my chin and dared him to try to force me farther. Would. Not. Happen. Unless one of them opened the door.

“Anything interesting?” he asked.

I wasn’t born yesterday. He didn’t want me to overhear what was going on in that room, and it had me very curious as to why that might be. “Not as interesting as this,” I countered.

“Yeah?” He arched a brow, and before I knew what he was doing, he raised an arm over my shoulder, leaned closer, and slammed his palm into the door.

It opened instantly, and I stumbled, yep, right into Reyes’s arms.

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