Page 18 of Betting Blind
Smoothing my hands down my apron, I make my way back to the diner floor to continue my façade as the perfect little worker bee. I’ve taken on five tables now, and all I can think about is how badly I want an ice-cold beer.
No, Cassidy,I scold myself, but I can’t help it. It’s got to be the bad boy thing, right? I shake my head. No, it’s not that. He’s a complete mystery to me. The way he eyes me across the room, sliding his gaze down my body but never acting on it. He keeps me at arm’s length, never letting me get close enough to see the real Jack or any secrets those cold blue eyes may keep.
My mind wanders to those deliciously fit arms and the ink that spans nearly every inch of them. It has me curious what other parts of him are marked. Imagining him now, I envision abs that are chiseled to perfection, and those biceps… I have no doubt he could lift me up and down effortlessly as I ride his—
“Ma’am? Hello? You’re spilling coffee everywhere!”
Gasping out of my daydream, I frantically reach for the towel inside my apron and begin wiping off the table I’m serving. “Oh my gosh, I-I’m so sorry!”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” a large, round man with pieces of egg stuck to his face hollers at me.
With shaking hands, I apologize repeatedly to him. From behind me, Bruce grips my shoulders, and he tells me gently, “It’s okay, Cassidy. Why don’t you go take a little break?”
My cheeks are burning hot as he turns his attention back to the family I spilled coffee all over, offering more condolences and free meals.
Damn you, Jack! Get out of my head.
By the end of our shift, Jules and I are ready for a drink. It’s a weeknight, but working the crazy hours we have to work, every night can be turned into a night out. I pocket some of my tip money, stash the rest in my purse, and change out of my ridiculous uniform and into something a little more appropriate.
Stepping out of the back, I laugh at Juliana’s teasing that I look like Sandy fromGrease.Faux leather tights fit every curve of my lower body, and the black booties I’ve added match my black chiffon tank top perfectly. She’s right, of course. If I curled my hair and added a red lip to the ensemble, I could practically be her double.
“You better shape up!” I sing to her loudly, grabbing her hands and twirling her around in front of me. It’s a mild summer evening, and I’m soaking up the warmth of the night air and her giggles. We’re breathless from laughter, but when I glance across the old gravel lot toward Jules’s car, my feet halt to a forceful stop. Juliana doesn’t understand my alarm until she turns to see what’s caught my attention.
Two men stand bathed in shadows beside her car. It’s hard to make out their faces, but from their build, I gather that one is a larger man while the other is tall and slender. The thinner of the two leans against the driver side door of Juliana’s red Firebird casually, smoking a cigarette. He appears unfazed by us watching him, and I briefly follow the swirl of smoke from his lips as it curls up toward the sky. The unwelcome feeling of terror skitters through my body at the sight.
Juliana turns to me with round eyes. Without breaking eye contact from the men, I whisper, “Who the hell are they?”
We watch as they stare at us for a long moment, and I flinch slightly when the man who’s smoking throws his red-tipped cigarette down and crunches it beneath his foot. There's no other cars passing by, and it’s late enough for me to know that we’re in serious danger should they decide to come after us.
I’m busy working through diversions and escape routes when the pair surprise me with a nod before slowly turning to walk away. I watch their backs as they disappear into the night, trying to burn any little piece I can of their images into my memory.
“Qué mierda!” Juliana exclaims from beside me.
“You got that right.” When I make a move toward her car, she grips my bicep so hard, I feel her nails dig into my skin.
“What are you doing? Are you crazy? They may come back to murder us. We need to go back inside and—”
“And what?” I turn on her. “No one is left, Jules. We closed the place down, remember? It’s okay. It looks like they were just trying to scare us.”
“Yeah, but why?”
“I don’t know, but I want to find out.”
She blanches from where she stands and hollers at my back, “This is why white people get murdered in movies!”
Gingerly stepping up to the front of the car, I check all over for anything they may have pilfered with. My brows draw in tight. Why would they leave? We were vulnerable, defenseless, and alone. Essentially, the perfect bait.
“What is it?” Jules asks from beside me, still shaken up. I hate how frightened those assholes have made her.
I lean over and pick up a crumpled piece of paper that’s been jammed between the windshield and the wiper blade. “Shine your phone light on this for a sec,” I demand, and after fumbling with her phone, she does as I’ve asked. Written in scratchy, male handwriting is a note that reads:STAY AWAY FROM THE POUND
“They want us away from The Pound? Why would anyone care where we go?” she asks, reading my thoughts exactly. The customers who frequent the bar aren’t exactly the type to gossip around town, so why bother intimidating us? Something doesn’t add up.
“Come on,” I say, snagging the keys out of Juliana’s hand and opening the driver door. If there’s anywhere in this city that I feel safe, it’s with Jack and the boys. They’ll know what to do. I sit and turn the engine over, listening to it roar to life.
She slides into the passenger seat, quickly buckling her seat belt and begins running her hands over her arms. “Where are we going?”
After adjusting the rearview mirror so I can glance behind us, I throw the gearshift into reverse, and peel out of the parking lot as fast as I can.
