Page 2 of Nevada

“But Kyle is kinda scary looking.”

I pique an eyebrow. “And I’m not?”

She rolls her lips. “If I didn’t know you, I’d be shitting my pants. That winged eyeliner, by the way, so on point.”

“Thanks,” I mutter, trying not to smile.

I head to the bar, ignoring the curious looks, and move to an open stool.

I give the bartender my full attention. He’s a large, heavily tattooed man with dark eyes and a sour look on his face like he just smelled something bad. ‘Trouble’ being the something bad.

“You ladies lost?” he says before I can even get a word out.

See, that just pisses me off. No greeting. No smile. No customer service anywhere in this stinking, godforsaken town. It costs nothing to at least be cordial.

“Looking for someone.” No need for chit-chat, I like to get straight to the point. “Or two someones; Brew and Haze.”

Either he doesn’t know them, or he’s a really good liar because his face doesn’t move. He gives nothing away. I’m pretty sure he has his hand on a gun under the counter, but the hand that I can see rests on the bar.

I don't know what it is about me that evokes violence from the onset. I’ve only said a couple of words and this guy’s ready to shoot me. The feelings mutual, bucko.

“Don’t know ‘em.”

“You sure about that?”

“Who’s askin’?”

“Name’s Star, this is Halo.”

He snorts. “You superheroes?”

Oh, so we have a wise guy, do we? Fantastic.

Even though this guy is cute, and has a good week's worth of scruff I wouldn’t mind tugging on, I refrain from admiring him any more. I’m thirty-three and single, but I didn’t come here to match-make or find a fuck buddy. I came here to get answers.

“Something like that.”

He leans closer, it’s then I notice his eyes are green, not dark as I saw before in the dim light. They’re fierce, too, nothing about them — or him — is friendly. “You don’t belong here. Better leave the same way you came in before things get ugly.”

Strike number two. So much for the all-knowing bartender. What a disappointment. He had so much potential.

“This a bar?” Halo pipes up.

His eyes shift to my friend. “What do you think?”

She glances around. “Well, I see people sittin’ around drinkin’ and shootin’ pool, so I’d say that this is a watering hole establishment that serves beverages.” My lips twitch. Oh, she’s not done. “I’ll take a club soda, please, and my friend will have a shot of vodka in a tumbler.” She wags a finger at him. “Not the shitty kind, you hear? The top shelf kind, and hold the ice.” Halo doesn’t like to drink on the job. Me? I can drink a Russian under the table with his own vodka. Plus, if we’re really gonna do this, I need my wits about me. One shot won’t hurt, and it might give me a chance to scope things out a little bit more, though I can feel the eyes on us from every angle around the room.

“Your funeral,” the man mutters, pushing off the bar to get our drinks.

“See,” Halo sounds hopeful. “That wasn’t so hard.”

I turn around, my back to the bar as I scan the room. “Fuck, this place really needs to work on their overhead lighting.”

“You ladies up for a game?” a deep male voice asks.

I turn my head his way and I’m met with a pair of deep blue eyes. So blue they’re striking. He has a flock of dark hair which is styled long at the front, short at the back. He stands much taller than me at over six foot, maybe six-three. He’s solid, muscled and has a small amount of scruff and a nose ring. A fucking nose ring. He’s attractive and he knows it. It’s all in the smirk on his perfect looking lips.

He’s so pretty that I hear Halo whisper beside me, “Holy fuck.”

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