Page 10 of Dealing Dirty
Cassidy’s voice flits across the room, and I find her with one arm slung around Jimmy’s thin shoulders as he whispers something in her ear. Her eyes crinkle with delight as he whistles a laugh through his three remaining teeth.
As usual, the Wolves are taking up their back corner of the bar by the pool tables. I’ve heard the rumors about them and how they claimed The Pound as their turf. They’re one of several motorcycle clubs that hang out here, but they’re definitely the scariest.
When Bruce tried to bully Jack into giving the place over, the Wolves and their ties with Jack’s bar were part of what swayed him to think otherwise.
Their whole dynamic fascinates me. I side-eye them, trying not to stare for long. Not many gangs allow females to join their ranks, but there’s a woman with them now that I don’t recognize. It’s possible she could have joined in the months I’ve been holed away.
Her braided hair is the color of molasses, and the amber-brown tint reflects under the light above the table as she moves to stand beside a burly man.
He’s handsome in that rugged, tough-guy way, but his graying beard reveals his age. Tattoos spread over his arms all the way down to his hands, and he wears a leather vest with several patches that boast the club’s emblem.
The man throws a thick arm around the woman’s neck and pretends to put her in a chokehold. A younger guy with a similar vest leans back against the pool table, laughing as she struggles. Before long, she reaches out to pat his forearm as if to tap out, and he releases her. They slap her on the back, and she playfully shoves them.
One of the members catches me gawking, and I jump, twisting away and nearly colliding with Jack. Great, now I’ve lost sight of Cassidy.
“Hey, Jules,” he says with a tight-lipped smile.
Craning my neck, I search for where Cassidy’s wandered off to. I’m ashamed of the way he guards himself, probably afraid to say anything that may send me bolting back to the comfort of my couch. I’ll admit, things have been a little awkward between us all since I’ve isolated away from them.
Jack extends a tattoo-covered arm toward me, wrapping a warm hand around my bicep. I wouldn’t have thought him capable of comforting someone prior to Cassidy wearing him down, but I appreciate the gesture all the same.
There’s a familiar swirl of emotions in his ice-blue eyes—uncertainty the most prevalent among them. The same emotion that greets me in the mirror every morning.
“I’m sorry about Ben,” I say.
That earns me a squeeze from the hand still resting on my arm. “Thank you.” He opens his mouth to say something, but a loud pop sounds from behind him, jerking him forward.
“Hey!” he hollers, spinning around to Cassidy, who’s just popped his ass with the rag she’s holding. Her bright, mischievous smile spreads further when he yanks it from her grasp. “You know I’ll get you for that later, you little minx.”
She sticks her tongue out at him before throwing her arms around me and enveloping me in a hug. A thick knot builds in my throat, and I swallow hard to keep it from feeding my threatening tears. I’ve missed her jasmine scent and the laughter she culls from deep within in my soul.
Ben’s situation may still be rocky, but being here with them now feels so normal. Kind of like home. It’s just… right.
“I’ve missed you,” she says into my hair, and I squeeze her one last time before pulling back.
“I know. I’ve missed you too, and I’m sorry for disappearing. I—”
“It’s okay, Jules.” Sea green eyes search my face, and I’m unexpectedly afraid of being vulnerable in front of her. I’ve always been the one who leads us headfirst into trouble, but she’s the one who carries us through.
As if reading my thoughts, she takes my hand. “Let’s get your official uniform, and I’ll get you started on some easy tasks, okay?”
Jack offers me a parting wave as she leads me through a throng of people crowding the main bar.
I raise my voice so she can hear me. “What’s going on with the place?”
“Oh, Jack is starting some of the smaller repairs while he tries to build some of the money he’d saved back up.”
Right. How could I forget that he’d used the money meant for the renovation to keep Ben from being in debt to Diablo? It must have stung twice that Ben ended up being manipulated into working for Bruce anyway.
Better than dead, I suppose.
She lifts the yellow caution tape, allowing me to step under. Instead of winding our way down the hall to the locker rooms, Cassidy guides us to Jack’s office and quietly closes the door. The space is clean and simple, with a cheap wooden desk and a couple of rickety chairs. Filing cabinets reside to my right, and a lone lamp illuminates the room.
On top of Jack’s desk, I find an outfit identical to the one Cassidy is wearing, minus the manager tag she has pinned above her left breast.
Of course Jack made her the bar manager. Who wouldn’t want someone as smart and mindful as her running their place of business? She’s a workhorse, and she knows a thing or two about delegating. Plus, these guys respect her for more than being Jack’s girl. Cassidy has what it takes to run a tight ship, and that’s something Bruce and I always saw in her.
I unfold the soft black shorts and matching tank top with a smile, then quickly change out of my newly washed sweats and loose-fitting T-shirt. The outfit is a little snug, but at least I don’t look like a character from a fifties sitcom.
