Page 66 of Hart of Darkness
Dillon was back at my side. “Are you trying to pick up my girlfriend, big guy?” He snarled at Gold Tooth, who matched Dillon in height but nothing else. If I had to wager which of them would win in a fight, I would’ve liked to have bet on Dillon, but Gold Tooth had the girth and the linebacker arms that could put a hurt on Dillon.
The voices around us died. All eyes in the immediate area waited for a brawl. Some men pressed their hands on the table, ready to attack.
Gold Tooth lifted his meaty hands, which were encrusted with oil or black crud. “Not my gig.” After he walked away, the voices hummed again.
I plastered on a gooey grin. “So I’m your girlfriend now?”
Dillon glanced down at me, his snarl ebbing. “I want to check out that girl at the jukebox.”
I peered around him. “She’s not there.”
He whipped his head around then frantically searched the room.
I started to scan the heads. “Was that Grace?”
A petite waitress with her dark hair up in a ponytail bounced up to us. “There’s a free table near the pool hall.”
“We’re looking for someone,” I said.
Dillon’s eyes darted in all directions. “A brown-haired girl with a hummingbird tattoo on her neck.”
The tray of beer bottles she was holding shook slightly. She tossed a look over her shoulder toward the pool hall. “Check with Dominic. He’s the guy bending over the pool table right now.”
Shock and awe leaked from Dillon’s expression like it had at the tattoo shop. “Is the girl here?” he asked in a high-pitched voice.
My heart did a few extra laps around the track. I tried to put myself in Dillon’s shoes and wondered how I would react if I found someone after they’d been missing for a couple of years. My mom didn’t count since I didn’t even know her. If I were in Dillon’s situation, I would probably freak out too.
“You’ll need to talk to Dom.” She dashed away as though she knew a secret and would get beaten if she told us.
Dillon and I skirted around tables and chairs as the other patrons’ eyes bore holes into us. I could almost feel the heat of their stares.
The tall and slender guy who had a military haircut, long sideburns, and diamond earrings in both ears lifted his hazel eyes from the cue ball and focused on us. Then he straightened before a short guy with a pool stick flanked him on his left, and a beefy biker with a low ponytail took up a position on his right.
The two twenty-something women, one with a row of piercings up her right ear, and the other with stark gray eyes that had a storm brewing in them, didn’t move an inch.
“Are you Dom?” Dillon asked.
Dom gripped the pool stick, his angular jaw as hard as the cue ball. “Who’s asking?”
Dillon’s shoulders lifted. “Does it matter?” His tone bordered on angry. “I’m looking for a girl with a hummingbird inked on her neck.”
The expressions on the faces of everyone in the poolroom were blank. No one winced or shuddered or reared back like the waitress had. No one said a word. The women didn’t even react.
“We have a lot of ink in this bar, but I don’t know anyone with a tattoo like that.” Dom’s nostrils moved rapidly.
The man was lying.
Dillon clenched his fists. “Let’s try this again. Do you know a girl by the name of Emily?”
The girl with stark gray eyes jerked as if she had Tourette’s syndrome.
Dom studied Dillon, not giving his hand away.
Dillon lunged at Dom, and all hell broke loose.
