Page 35 of Brandishing Betrayals

I went back to my bedroom, threw on some jeans and put a bra on under my T-shirt, then grabbed my keys. I didn’t know where I was going, but I couldn’t stay home a moment longer. Thankfully Luke was out with Marcos, doing who knew what, but I was glad for the alone time.

I needed a fucking drink and drove down the road to a local hole in the wall place on the boarder of Mourningside and Creekton. It probably wasn’t the smartest place to go, considering the location, but it was close to home, and the drinks were cheap.

I walked in the mostly empty bar and looked around, remembering it was a Monday night, and most people didn’t go to bars on Monday nights—other than regulars. I took a seat at the bar and quickly ordered a whisky neat from the rough and tumble older man that was bartending that evening. Prison tattoos covered his hands and neck, and a gray scruffy beard covered his jawline. He had a screwed gaze that screamed,fuck around and find out.

I had no interest in finding out.Thank you very much.

The bartender had just set down my glass of whisky when the door chimed behind me. I didn’t even look over my shoulder, just pulled open my phone and opened the Kindle app. I’d nurse my whisky, read some smut, and go home when I felt calmer.

“Well holy shit!” a female voice called out from behind me. “If it ain’t Maya Henderson in the flesh.”

I looked up from my phone and turned to see over my shoulder. “Jesus fuck,” I laughed. “Slade fucking Cooper.”

“Hot damn, girl,” Slade said and walked right toward me. She had a wide grin on her beautiful face. The woman was utterly gorgeous with long silky black hair that fell to her waist in a smooth sheet and the most piercing green eyes.

I slid off my stool and greeted my old friend with a hug. “You look amazing,” I said, as I hugged the woman tightly.

“So do you! It’s been too long!” Slade gushed. “What are you doing here?” She asked as she pulled away.

“I moved back, in January,” I admitted, instantly feeling bad that I never informed my friend. We had been close at one point. Slade had done all my tattoos over the years, but in the last eight months since I’d been back, I hadn’t had time to reach out.

“No shit?” Slade said, eyebrows raised in shock, as she slid onto the barstool next to where I had been sitting.

“Yeah.” I sighed, and took a seat. “My parent’s got into a bad car accident last fall. I had to move in with them to help out.”

“Ah shit. I’m so sorry, girl.” Slade’s green eyes crinkled in the corners; sympathy evident on her face.

I nodded and sipped my whisky.

“The usual, Slade?” A gruff voice asked.

I looked up to see the bartender standing before us.

“Yes please, Bobby. Thank you.” Slade grinned at the bartender before she turned back to me. “Drinking alone on a Monday night, that’s gotta sum up how things are going lately, though?”

I chuckled sardonically. “Pretty much.” I took a sip of my whisky and shook my head. “What brings you to a bar on a Monday night?”

Slade chuckled and shrugged. “Nothing as depressing as you, probably.” She smirked and bumped my shoulder with mine.

I laughed and shook my head.

“Monday’s I usually meet my dad here after we close up the shop. We’re just down the road. He was finishing up with a clientand I finished up early. Figured I come down here, read a book and have a drink before the old man met me.”

“Funny, I thought I’d have a drink and read a book, while I cooled off and tried not to feel so damn pathetic.”

“Ouch. Let me guess, living at home as an adult, sucks?”

“So fucking much,” I groaned. “I’ve never been close with my parents; you fucking know that. But my mom is just like oblivious to everything, and trying to balance her judgement and Marcos’s anger, not to mention fucking Stone’s… it’s rough.”

Slade sighed. “Maybe you should just fucking tell them the truth then.” She shot me a pointed look that cut right through me.

“And what will that accomplish? You were there back then; you know what was happening! And he knows I’m back. He’s already fucking starting again.” I choked on a sob, before I quickly swallowed it and took another sip of my drink, throwing back what was left in the glass.

“Jesus fuck,” Slade groaned. “Dude…you gotta tell the guys. Killer and Stone are gonna flip the fuck out, and Dagger man… he’s gonna go ballistic.”

“I know.” I rubbed a hand over my face, thinking how weird it felt to hear Slade use Marcos’s road-name, before I held up my empty glass for the bartender. Bobby made quick work of setting down another whisky neat before me, while I contemplated my life choices.

“What’s he doing?” Slade asked.

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