Page 41 of The Scenic Route
Although Dino was still facing away from them, the sight of the gun made Felicity instantly put on the brakes. She stoppedabruptly, barely keeping herself from hurtling forward and landing chin-first on the concrete. Her head whipped around to find Bennett a few steps away. Reaching out, she grabbed a handful of his shirt and backtracked, pulling him with her until they were behind the column again without being spotted by Dino or Clint.
Loud, rowdy laughter rang through the parking garage, echoing off the concrete, contrasting strangely with the grimly serious expression on Bennett’s face—the same look Felicity was sure was on hers as well. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she risked a glance around the column, seeing that Dino had lowered the gun but kept it out, tucked behind his left leg so the newcomers couldn’t see it.
She and Bennett stayed in place as four people—the source of the raucous laughter and loud voices—made their way to their Jeep. Felicity made a face. For some reason, she’d always loathed Jeeps.
Bennett must’ve noticed her reaction, because he gave her a questioning look, but she just shook her head. Her odd aversion wasn’t a priority right now, not while Dino’s gaze scanned the parking area, the gun still in his hand. Finally, with one last look around, he tucked the gun in his back waistband and yanked his T-shirt down over it. Climbing into the truck, he pulled the door closed behind him with a loud slam.
The pickup backed out of the space as frustration filled Felicity. She’d taken down some armed skips before, but she wasn’t about to run right into the barrel of a loaded pistol. As Clint gunned the pickup, sending it shooting toward the exit, she headed back to the car.
Automatically, she went for the driver’s side, but Bennett gave her a look so full of hope and pleading that she almost laughed despite the situation.
“Fine,” she said quietly, even though there was no way Clint and Dino could hear her on the other side of the parking garage. “But you’ll owe me.” Reversing direction, she hurried to climb into the passenger seat. Her reward was a sweet smile from Bennett before he sped after their escaping skip.
Night had fallen during their last stretch of waiting, but the multitude of lights made it feel more like daytime. The heavy traffic forced Bennett to stick close to the rear of the pickup, with only a half dozen or so cars separating them. Clint left the Strip and wove his way through the city, finally pulling into the small parking lot of a seedy-looking bar that reminded Felicity of Dutch’s back in Langston.
Bennett drove slowly around the block, only turning in and parking after Clint and Dino had gone inside.
“What’s the plan?” he asked, turning off her car.
“My plans haven’t been working so well lately,” she said a little sourly but shook off her spurt of ill temper. They hadn’t lost Dino yet, and here was another chance to bring him in. “Let’s play this by ear. We’ll go in, take a look around, and then come up with a plan. I’d rather not try to tackle Dino in the middle of a bunch of Vegas militia members.”
“We could just wait out here for them to come back out.”
Although Bennett’s suggestion was reasonable, she was about to crawl out of her skin with boredom at the thought of spending any more time sitting in her car, waiting for the skipto come to her. “No harm in having a quick look around. We’ll make sure Dino doesn’t get a glimpse of us.” When Bennett eyed her askance, she sighed and gave him her best pleading puppy-dog eyes. “Pleeeeeease? Just for a minute? I’m so sick of this car. My butt groove is already imprinted on this seat. I’m going to meld with it soon, and then I’ll never be able to leave it. I’ll be like a weird cyborg Transformer.”
With a huff of laughter, he gave an exaggerated sigh and opened his door. “C’mon then.”
“Thank you!” She hurried to get out before reason took over and she talked herself out of going inside. The chilly desert night air slappedsomesense into her, but it was just enough to get her to grab her jacket from the back seat. The long drive to Vegas and their extended stakeout had worn down her usual practical nature, and the adrenaline junkie was in the driver’s seat now.
Almost giddy at the idea of an adventure—as tame as going into a dive bar promised to be—she caught up to Bennett and linked her arm though his. When he gave her one of his patented raised-eyebrow looks, she just snickered and pinched his side, making him jump and stare down at her. It was hard to tell in the spotty lighting of the parking lot, but she was pretty sure he was blushing.
Feeling a tiny bit bad for embarrassing him, she returned her hand to his ridiculously large biceps. “Sorry. I’ll be good.”
His quiet grunt sounded skeptical, and she grinned at him. Although they’d only met each other a short time ago, he already knew her so well.
The bouncer looked them up and down, glowered morefiercely, and then jerked his head toward the door in an indication to go inside. Felicity, who’d been about to pull her ID from her pocket, gave a mental shrug and walked through the doorway, Bennett so close behind her that she thought she could feel his body heat.
The noise hit them like a wall. The bar was crowded, everyone competing for who could talk the loudest. An old-school country song played but was almost drowned out by the voices and laughter. For some reason, Felicity half expected a clichéd record scratch leading to complete silence and staring when she and Bennett entered, but no one even looked at them.
She scanned the crowd, searching for Clint and Dino, but the low lighting and large number of people made it impossible to pick them out. Glancing over her shoulder, she gave Bennett a questioning look, and he shook his head. Apparently, even with his greater height, he hadn’t spotted them either.
As she worked her way toward the bar, Bennett followed closely, one hand on her waist. Her attention wanted to drift to the electrified skin under his touch, but she forced herself to keep scanning for any glimpse of Dino or Clint. It would be bad if one of the two men spotted them first. She’d never met Dino before she started her search, but she assumed he’d seen at least a picture of her, since his militia friends were after her.
They made it to the bar without seeing any sign of either of the two men. Although she knew she should be disappointed, since that was the entire point of coming into the bar, she was secretly, guiltily relieved. Felicity felt like she’d been working constantly since Jane took off. Being in a bar, as seedy as itwas, was a welcome change of pace. She just wanted to relax and enjoy herself for five minutes, and then she’d go back into bounty-hunter mode.
A man slid off his barstool and moved away, and Felicity claimed the seat with an inelegant pounce. Bennett slid in half next to her and half behind her where he could guard her back and keep an eye on the crowd at the same time. The guy on the next barstool made an irritated sound as he turned to confront the person who’d gotten in his space. When he laid eyes on Bennett, he deflated and turned his attention back to the drink in front of him.
Felicity watched the byplay with appreciation. Having someone Bennett’s size at her side was a benefit—plus a time-saver. Normally, being small and delicate-looking, she had to prove that she couldn’t be pushed around. With Bennett around, the bullies didn’t even try.
The bartender, a tall, scarecrow-looking white man with greased-back hair, stopped in front of them. “What can I get you?”
Despite her desire for a normal night out, she wasn’t feeling reckless—or stupid—enough to actually drink. “Orange juice, please.”
“Water,” Bennett grunted, obviously being of the same mind as she was. They had to bring the skip in, andthenthey could get stinking drunk. The idea of partying with Bennett held a strong appeal, so strong that her cheeks flushed with anticipation at the idea. She could let her guard down, have fun without worrying about what her wilder sister was doing or what bad things could happen to her. Bennett would be there. He’d protect her.
She dropped her eyes and studied the battered wood of the bar. Her thoughts seemed like a betrayal—to Charlie, to her job, to her feminist ideals. She did love her sister and working as a bounty hunter, but sometimes she got tired. The idea of someone else looking out for her for a change was oddly tempting.
Two glasses—one with juice and one with water—slid into view, breaking into her thoughts. Before she could pull out some of the cash she’d stashed in her pocket that morning, Bennett was already handing over a bill. When the bartender held out the considerable amount of change, Bennett waved him off. With a nod of thanks, the bartender stuffed the bills in his tip jar and turned to the next customer.
