Page 16 of Betting Blind
Then again, with the guarded way he stepped away from me afterward, maybe I was wrong. Maybe he’s the type of guy who’s easily embarrassed around his friends and that’s what made him skittish. One thing’s for sure, if a man’s too insecure to be himself around his friends, he’ll never be secure enough for a real relationship, and I’m not trying to add anyone else’s insecurities to my plate.
The boys are waiting for me outside when I step through the back door to the parking lot. “Don’t worry about me, guys. You don’t have to wait.”
Jack dusts an invisible speck off his shirt. “Yeah, we get it. You can take care of yourself.”
I burn him with my gaze, and the small intimacies of whatever we shared back in the kitchen burns along with it. The laughs, the looks, the touches, all gone.
His friend elbows him in the side. “What Jack meant to say was, we don’t let anyone walk to their car by themselves. This isn’t exactly the safest spot to be this late at night,” Derrick says to me with a friendly slap on the back.
I jerk forward slightly from the force of his bro-ness and follow them out to the parking lot. Jack’s giving me the cold shoulder, not even sparing me a second glance, and anger begins to simmer deep in my belly.
Well, that’s just fine. If Jack wants to be a jerk to me for the hell of it, then he’s about to find out that two can play that game.
Chapter 8
Cassidy
Ipull up to our peaceful little house and cut the engine of the car Derrick’s letting me borrow. I tried to tell him I could manage without, but after watching Juliana take me to and from work last weekend, he insisted I use his sister’s old Honda that’s been taking up space beside his house.
I pull on a dark hoodie to cover my tank top and grab the box of cupcakes out of the passenger seat. I picked them up from the bakery—as I did the weekend before—to make sure I don’t blow my cover. Can’t be too careful.
My shoes shuffle lightly against the concrete steps. It’s eerily quiet tonight, and not even Gordy makes a peep when I open the front door.Odd. I shift my eyes around in the dark space of our front room as an alarming sensation scurries all over my body. The feeling has me hurrying to set the cupcakes down on the kitchen table and get to the nearest light.
The gentle snick of my sneakers against the kitchen floor sounds ridiculously loud, and I fight the urge to race across the room. When my fingers finally grasp the switch closest to the exit of the kitchen, I flick it up quickly.
“How was work?” My mother’s voice comes from my left, startling me, and I scream.
“What the hell!” I clutch my heaving chest as I begin to sweat from sheer terror.
She sits in her recliner facing away from me and leans over slightly to flick on the lamp beside her. Gordy’s tail whaps against the floor as he whines lightly. I step around to the front of the chair to look at her and suddenly, I’m five years old again, getting caught with a pack of cookies I stole from the kitchen and then stuffed into my panties to try to hide the evidence.
The familiar scowl that resides on my momma’s face tells me all I need to know. I’m inbigtrouble. I swallow over the thick lump in my throat. “W-what’s wrong?”
Tapping the arm of the chair with her good hand, she tortures me a moment before she responds, “I heard something today. A rumor about my daughter that I am hoping to God isn’t true.” She finishes the last few words of her sentence shakily as if she’s lost the battle between anger and worry. “Please, Cassidy. Tell me you’re not working in that biker bar.” Her green eyes plead with me and my heart sinks.
Busted.
“Momma…” I start with a heavy complaint.
“Don’t you dare ‘Momma’ me!” Tears gather around her lashes, but like the stubborn mule she is, she doesn’t dare let one fall. The betrayal in her voice guts me when she says quietly, “You lied to me.”
I get down on my knees and grab her hand, but she refuses to turn toward me, gently pulling away from me to cover her mouth. “Momma, please don’t be upset. I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you doing exactly what you’re doing now; staying up late and worrying about me.”
She slides her gaze my way after several agonizing minutes. “How can I not worry about you when you’re working in a place like that?”
“It’s not a bad place, Momma, I promise. It looks rough on the outside, but Jack’s taking care of it. And the people… deep, deep down, they’re nice! I’m only waitressing there for the rest of this weekend and the next. I just need to get the rest of the cash to fix the car. That’s it,” I assure her.
“Who is Jack?”
Her question is simple enough, but I hesitate. How can I tell her the truth without upsetting her further? He’s my boss, first and foremost, but maybe there’s a chance he could be more. The tips of my fingers still tingle from exploring his warm, inked skin not long ago. There’s no way I can tell her what I think about that man. Hell, I can hardly wrapmyhead around it.
“He’s the owner,” I supply evenly. The clicking sound of my grandmother’s old cuckoo clock comes from behind me as she mulls over the information I’ve given her, and I’m struck with a thought. “Wait. How did you know?”
She rolls her eyes. I’ve been alive long enough to know that nothing gets by this woman. “Deborah stopped by the grocery store before coming over this afternoon to bring me lunch, and she ran into Bruce there. When she asked how things at the diner were going, your name got brought up, and he told her you were working at that… bar on the weekends.”
She struggles to hide her displeasure, and I bury my clenching fists in the blanket that covers her. Curse that old man. He should have known that Deb would tell my mom almost immediately. Those two are worse than teenage schoolgirls when they’re together!
Squeezing her hand tightly, I coax her concerns away. “You have nothing to worry about, Momma. I’m going to get the rest of the money I need, and then I’ll quit.”
