Page 6 of Monk
“You broke my nose. You son of a bitch,” he cries, his voice high-pitched, nasal.
“Immersive enough for you?” I ask.
The buzz of conversation around the bar stops, leaving us in a silence that, aside from the music—Journey is playing now—is nearly complete. Well, except for the gasping wheeze and whine of red hat. I start to feel the weight of all eyes on us. I plant my hands on the table and lean forward to him. His hands are still clamped over his nose, but his eyes widen, and for the first time, I see fear rather than his smug arrogance in them.
“You don’t come into our town and act like you own it,” I bark at them. “In fact, don’t you come into our town again. Ever. I see you in Blue Rock again, and that nose is goin’ to feel like a tickle. You got me?”
He mumbles something from behind his hands, but between his rapidly swelling nose and his hands covering his mouth, I can’t make it out. Instead, I turn to his friend.
“Get him out of here. And don’t forget what I said. Neither one of you’s welcome in Blue Rock ever again. You got me?” I sneer.
The kid nods. “Yeah. I feel you.”
I watch as he helps red hat out of the booth and then walks briskly to the door and out. When it swings closed, everybody turns back to what they’ve doing—the tourists and those passing through, buzzing excitedly about what just happened. It’s an immersive experience after all, I guess.
Maggie throws her arms around me and squeezes me tight, and I’m uncomfortably aware of her tight little body pressed to mine. She’s firm and yet soft in all the right places, I can’t deny that. And contrary to what I’ve told Cosmo, I’ve thought about taking her home with me more than a few times.
The only thing that’s held me back is that I’m not looking for a one-nighter. I’ve had my fair share. While I definitely enjoy sex and sometimes get that itch that needs to be scratched, I get the feeling that Maggie is looking for something more than that. And I have no desire to lead her on nor use her in that way. She’s a nice girl and deserves better than that.
She stands on tiptoe and plants a kiss on my cheek. “You’re drinking free all night.”
I show her a pleased look. “Thanks.”
She bounds off, and I head back to my table where Cosmo is leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest, grinning like the damn cat that ate the canary. I can’t stop the corners of my mouth from curling upward as I reclaim my seat.
“And they say chivalry is dead,” he says.
Chapter Three
Kasey
“Miguel Zavala,” I announce.
There is a brief flash of acknowledgement, perhaps even fear, that crosses his face. He quickly gets it under control again. If there’s one thing Spencer has always been good at, it’s controlling his emotions. Or at least, controlling the outward expression of his emotions.
He sits back in his seat and steeples his fingers. I stand on the other side of his desk, staring daggers through him. After spending an hour Googling Miguel Zavala, I’ve spent most of the night tossing and turning, filled with rage and terrified by what I’ve just found, by what my husband—such as he is—has exposed us to and brought into our lives.
“Should I know who that is?” he asks.
“Don’t play stupid with me, Spencer. I heard you talking with that man last night.”
He sits up, his expression darkening. “You were eavesdropping?” he says angrily. “What gives you the right—”
“Uh-uh. I’m not letting you deflect the conversation this time. You always do that.”
“Kasey, the fact that you were spying—”
“Shut up. Just stop it,” I cut him off. “Miguel Zavala.”
“Yeah, you said that already,” he snaps. “And again, should I know who that is?”
His eyes narrow and a furtive expression crosses his features. For a brief moment, he looks like an animal that’s been cornered. My words have him rattled, but I can see him gauging them. He’s not sure what I know exactly, and he doesn’t want to say too much lest he give himself away.
“Don’t play these games with me, Spencer.”
“I’m not playing any games with you.”
I sigh and tug on the end of my hair, my frustration growing. Things between Spencer and me haven’t been great for a while. And I’ve suspected he’s been involved in some shady business. But I never think he’ll be entangled in anything like this. And I never think, no matter how strained our marriage has become, that he will ever lie to me. Or that he will knowingly and willingly put me in danger.
