Page 2 of Cutter's Hope

I smiled sweetly and silently stepped past him. I could feel him check out my ass as I went by and I fought not to roll my eyes and do something unladylike, like kick him in the balls. There were way more of them than there were of me, and while I was pretty sure I could handle most of them, some of them might give me a run for my money…

Like the man in charge, the cocky son of a bitch.

He lounged in an electric chair, either a replica, or a real relic from some mothballed penitentiary, I couldn’t tell… I didn’t really care either. The man on the ‘throne’ which sat on a slightly raised dais screamed ‘danger’in every sense of the word. He worked out, clearly, but it was more than just chiseled abs and corded arms. It was the way he held himself. He appeared nonchalant, leaning to one side, leg hitched up over one arm of the chair. He wore a pair of frayed cargo shorts and no shirt, just one of the leather vests that seemed to be the uniform code around here.

“You Anders – “

He held up his hand abruptly and my voice stilled in my throat. I swept him one more time. Tattooed, sure, but one of them was damn sure a war memorial. A tattered American flag decorating the swell of one shoulder. He was more attractive than not and he knew it which should have been a total turn off, but hey, it’d been a while, okay?

“We don’t use last names around here, Sweetheart. Truth be told, we don’t use first ones either.”

“What do you want to be called then, Sunshine?” I asked warily.

“I’m Cutter.”

I snorted, “Right.”

“What’s a prettyCiviliangirl like you doing in a place like this?” he asked and he was smiling but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. I took my eyes off him and opened my purse, a flicker of movement brought my attention up and I stilled. He’d sat up abruptly and I looked him over warily. His hair was a little longer than mine and curled in a loose horsetail over his shoulder. He had a neat, trim beard that was graying at the corners which matched the gray at his temples. He didn’t look that old, late thirties, early forties maybe? He moved quickly though. Quick and quiet.

“Problem?” I asked sweetly. Couldn’t resist yanking his chain juuuuust a little.

“We aren’t a big fan of sudden movements around here.”

I raised an eyebrow and withdrew the mugshot from my purse holding it out in front of me. “Seen her?” I asked. He stared at me and didn’t even bother to look at the picture, his eyes were a warm brown with those golden undertones. Not like mine which sparkled with hardness, a cold deep brown, almost black. Like obsidian or coal.

“Nope,” he said and still hadn’t bothered to look. His face was impassive.Too impassive.He was trying not to show a tell and his obvious trying was a tell in and of itself.

“Would you mind bothering to look?” I asked just to force the issue, see if he would give anything away.

“I’m looking at all I want to see,” he said, lips spreading into a slow and lazy grin, his eyes riveted to my face. It was already a million degrees in here but the look he was giving me turned the thermostat up even higher.

“I really need to find her.”

“I really need to get to know you. Girl like you doesn’t come around these parts every day.”

“Not happening,” I said.

“Then I can’t help you.”

“No, you’re saying you won’t help me.”

“Call it what you like,” he smiled, teeth even and straight.

“Will you please just look at the picture? I really need to find her.”

I don’t know if some pleading had crept into my tone or if it was the enticing or insistent little shake I gave to the photograph but his eyes finally slid from my face to the picture in my hand. I’d never had a look do me like that. Where his eyes slid along my skin, I don’t know, it felt like a very real thing with weight and substance to it. Like a very physical caress had just gone across me. I suppressed a shudder.

His eyes alighted on the photograph and his entire expression went dark, like someone had flipped a light switch and just nobody was home anymore. Ooooooh yeah. Cutter was a very dangerous man. A very dangerous man indeed.

“Nope. Never seen her,” he lied right to my face. I felt my lips curl into a nasty little smile full of derision.

“Okay. Fair enough. I’ll be in town for a few days asking around about her… if anything, you know, comes to you, I’m staying at the Nautilus Beach Front B&B.”

“You can ask around all you want, Sweetheart, ain’t no one stopping you,” he smiled, the charm back on, “Now you telling me where you’re staying, is that an invitation?” he asked and bounced his eyebrows.

“Not interested in anyone that doesn’t know anything abouther,” I said giving the picture a little flick making it snap. I stepped back, not taking my eyes off of Cutter whose vest proclaimed him the king of this twisted little bar room kingdom by the sea.

“Maybe I’ll come see you anyways,” he said with a wink, “What’s your name?”