Page 22 of Devil's Marker

She laughed. “No. I’m Chalice.”

“Of course. Just the root beer.”

She pressed her lips together. “I’ll look around. Maybe we have somethin’ in back for the kiddos.”

He watched her smooth tush as she walked away then angled his body toward the woman next to him on his right. It gave him a perfect view of the blonde on the other side laughing around a quarter lime slice in her mouth. He could barely hear her laughter over the music and the crowd, but he liked it.

When she noticed him staring, her laughter came to an abrupt halt.

Following the direction of R.C.’s gaze the brunette turned to face him and immediately drew back. Seeing that much damage up that close had to be shocking.

“Whoa,” was all she said.

Win smirked. “Robin, I presume?”

Her eyes widened at what was apparently the correct mention of her name. Just then Chalice set a cold IBC long neck down on the bar in front of him.

“Here’s your root beer, sugar,” she said.

Robin’s eyes went to the root beer. “So you’re a Tim Burton movie escapee who’s also psychic and drinks root beer.”

His smirk grew bigger. “Nah. Your mom told me your name. She also told me not to drink on top of pain pills. So far as my face goes, I didn’t look like a monster before your friend slammed a door in my face.”

Win looked over at R.C. when he said ‘your friend slammed a door in my face’. She responded by narrowing her eyes like he had a lot of nerve to accuse her.

“Wow,” Robin said. Without looking over her shoulder, she said, “What’d he do, hon? You really nailed him. We’re talkin’ deviated septum.”

He returned his attention to Robin. “I’ll tell you what I did. I was standin’ in the Boss’s office when the tornado blew through.”

“If you’re expecting an apology, you can forget it. You shouldn’t ‘ve been givin’ my dad cigars,” R.C. said.

“I was the one with eyes waterin’ because I can’t stand smoke. Before I got there, the smoke was so thick I couldn’t find my own dick,” he protested.

“Tell the poor baby you’re sorry, R.C., so we can get back to serious drinkin’.”

“Sorry.” R.C.’s apology could not possibly have sounded less sincere. “Now, if you don’t mind, we’re busy.”

“I think that’s the best you’re gonna get, nightmare,” Robin said halfway sympathetically.

“Huh,” Win said as he took a pull on his root beer. “Have you heard this one? A nightmare and a terror walk into a bar…”

“We’re done talkin’. Get it?” R.C. interrupted. “Now if you’ll excuse us, my friend and I are busy gettin’ drunk to celebrate her hard won and well-deserved freedom.”

“You just out of jail?” he asked Robin, who turned and gaped.

“No. I’m not just out of jail. I’ve just broken up with the cocksucker who used to be my good-for-nothing boyfriend.”

“Congratulations,” Win said to Robin before his eyes found their way back to R.C.

“Do not look at me,” she said.

“Don’t look at you?” he chuckled.

“That’s right. Don’t look at me.”

“No harm in lookin, Arcy.”

He spoke her initials like they were a two syllable name. The sound of it gave her a visible shiver, which he caught before she tried to cover it. When she realized he’d seen her reaction, she narrowed her eyes again.

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