14. Skye
“Care to fucking explain that?”
I whirl around so quickly at the drastic shift in his tone that I stumble backward into my locker and drop the bills on the floor. Rogue’s hand shoots out to steady me, but as soon as he’s sure I’m not going to fall, he drops my arm as if touching me disgusts him.
“I-I-I have no idea where that came from.” My words are shaky from the shock of seeing that money sitting in my locker.
“That’s pretty convenient,” Rogue growls. “Did you really think you’d get outta here without getting caught?” He nods at the cash on the floor. “That’s my money, my fucking club’s money.”
I blink back tears. “I swear, Rogue, I have no idea where that came from. You saw that my tips were in my pocket,” I remind him as I pull out the wad of crumbled bills he counted earlier and toss them on the table next to the lockers.
“Your locker has a lock on it. Do you actually think I’m that stupid?” He cocks his head. “Yeah, you must think I’m fucking stupid to believe that.”
So much for ‘we can talk about this’.
I shake my head in denial. “I’m not calling you stupid. I honestly don’t know how it got in there.”
Rogue runs his hands through his hair and starts pacing back and forth in front of me. I bend down to pick up the cash that fell to the floor. Once I have it all, I straighten back up and hand it to him. Waylon’s head pokes into the breakroom as Rogue rips it out of my hand.
“Get things sorted out?”
“Not even close,” Rogue responds without turning around. “Get in here.”
Waylon shuffles over to where Rogue and I are facing off against each other.
“Waylon, tell Rogue I didn’t steal any money,” I beg.
Waylon whistles. “I wondered when the truth would finally come out.”
Rogue spins on his heel and grips the front of Waylon’s shirt. “What the fuck are you going on about?”
My breath whooshes out of my lungs, finally feeling like someone has my back.
He’ll tell Rogue I’m not a thief.
My relief is short-lived when Waylon does the opposite of what I expect.
“I can’t lie for you, Skye.” Waylon rubs the back of his neck and gives me a sad smile. “I’ve had a feeling that you’ve been stealing for a while now.”
“Why the hell didn’t you say something before?” Rogue shouts.
I cringe and wrap my arms around myself, seeking comfort. “I didn?—”
“I’m not listening to any more of your bullshit right now,” Rogue bites out. He turns back to Waylon. “Continue.”
“I didn’t say anything because I couldn’t prove it,” Waylon explains. “Ever since the night the systems went down, money has been missing. Granted, it hasn’t been a lot at one time, but small amounts here and there.”
“Doesn’t explain why you didn’t let me in on your theory,” Rogue snarls.
“I told you what happened that night.”
Rogue nods. “I remember, but what I don’t recall is you ever mentioning it again.”
I listen in disbelief as they continue to talk about me like I’m not even here.
“After her drawer came up short, I called you with my suspicions, and you talked to her the next day. Everything seemed fine.” He shrugs. “Since nothing happened, I waited for more proof. I found it tonight when I saw her stuffing her pockets with money, hand over fist.”
“Those were my tips, asshole!” I shout, unable to be quiet anymore. “We all had money shoved in our pockets.”
“And you had a helluva lot more than we did.” Waylon narrows his eyes. “And I’m guessing you didn’t tell Rogue how many times you left the main bar room tonight.”
His words slam into my gut. “For my breaks, which I took outside to get some fresh air. Hell, one of my breaks I went to gossip with RaRa.”
“I called RaRa and spoke to him before coming back here,” he states haughtily. “I wanted to confirm my suspicions. He said that you were only in the kitchen for a few minutes before you disappeared.”
“It was only a ten-minute break. I talked to him and then ran to the bathroom before I had to be back behind the bar.”
“I’m sorry, Skye,” he says. “You’re the only one who could’ve done this. No one else’s till has been short.”
“That’s enough.” Rogue pulls his cell phone out of his pocket, giving me no opportunity to protest further. A few seconds pass before he barks, “Bring me a cage.” I don’t know who he called, but his face contorts with rage. “Don’t fucking question me. Get here now, and bring a fucking cage. Tell Soul I’m bringing a guest.” He narrows his eyes on me. “A reluctant one.”
Fuck! How did I end up in this predicament?
He disconnects the call and keeps his gaze leveled on mine.. “Our ride’s on the way.”
Pretty sure I’m not gonna survive the night. At least I’ll get to see Clint again.