Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
“ B etty.” I said her name sweetly, pulling in the information I could read.
She was alone behind the bar, but I could hear someone in the kitchen behind her. Her arms were muscled from carrying kegs and boxes of alcohol, which meant that whoever was working in the back let her do most of the heavy lifting. The lines in the corners of her eyes that her makeup couldn’t quite make disappear revealed that life had been just as difficult on her as it had on me.
She wanted a reminder of the good times, back when we were both in high school, back when life was simpler.
“Don’t ‘ Betty ’ me. I want my money.” She held out her hand, fingers curling.
I made a big show of emptying my pockets, pulling them both out. The gold coin fell to the sticky wooden floor, and I held it up. “Fresh out of money. This is the best I can do.”
Betty frowned at me, face pulled together. “You disappear for twelve years, come back without the money I lent you, and you’re offering me some prop from Pirates of the Caribbean ? Get out of here before I throw you out.”
“Oh, don’t be like that. We’re old friends.” I smiled sweetly, and she narrowed her eyes to slits.
“Old friends pay each other back.” She crossed her arms over her ample chest. “They don’t leave debts unpaid.”
“I like you,” Cassander announced. He slid onto one of the barstools, one of his long legs resting on the footrest, the other cocked against one of the chair legs.
“Oh my god,” I said, digging out the only cash I had. Two hundred dollars didn’t seem like enough if I was going to be surviving on it for long. “What was it? Fifty for the bus ticket to boot camp?”
“Fifty for you to abandon me and your sister and everyone else who gave a shit about you.” Betty raised an eyebrow, watching me count out the cash.
“I need change,” I said, handing over three twenties.
“I need interest,” she said. “Let’s say at least, what? Five percent a year?”
“Are you kidding me?” I shook my head and slapped down another twenty, leaving me with only a hundred and twenty to survive for who knew how long.
“Okay.” Betty put her hand on top of the cash, pulling it across the sticky bar top before folding it neatly and pocketing it.
Then, with a wicked grin, she came around the bar, opening her arms. “D! Welcome back home!”
For a second, I hesitated, but then I stepped forward, wrapping her in a tight hug. Betty smelled like cheap beer and expensive perfume. Her hair got caught in my mouth, and she held me just as tight as I gripped her.
Then she pushed me back, examining me before nodding.
I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. “What was all that, Betty?”
“Eh, you know, I have to give you some crap. You abandoned us all for… what was it again?” She deepened her voice, mocking me. “‘Anything is better than this shithole, Betty. Even though you are stuck here, I think I’m better than this place and, hey, can you pay for my ticket out?’”
“I didn’t say that,” I complained.
“Do his voice again,” Cassander said eagerly. “It’s completely accurate.”
“It’s not accurate,” I scoffed. “I don’t sound like that.”
“‘It’s not accurate. I don’t sound like that.’” Betty finished on a cackle.
Cassander laughed so hard that he nearly fell off the stool. “Oh, she has you. Did you honestly make her pay for your ticket out?”
“I didn’t have much choice!” I winced. “All my money was wrapped up in a con Mom was pulling at the time.”
“Which, by the way, she was pissed that you left her in the middle of the job.” Betty walked back around the bar, pouring two pints from the tap.
She put one in front of Cassander and the other in front of the stool next to him.
I sat down, sighing. “Yeah, well, I didn’t have any choice.”
“No, I didn’t have any choice,” Betty said. “You had plenty of options.”
“Boot camp was starting.” But even as I said it, it sounded weak. “If I hadn’t left then, I never would have.”
Betty shook her head but seemed to accept what I was saying. She pursed her lips, looking over at Cassander. “So, who are you?”
“A deposed prince,” Cassander said. “Who are you?”
“The owner of this bar.” Betty smiled, looking around her. “Nice, right?”
“It’s something,” Cassander said.
Betty snorted, then looked between the two of us. “So, how did you end up in bed with a deposed prince?”
I choked on my beer, remembering how Cassander had tucked himself into me the night before, his skin warm, his breath soft on my throat.
“Metaphorically.” Betty drew out the word, her eyes lighting up with interest.
“We met on a job.” I glanced at Cassander. “And now, he’s sticking around.”
“Sticking around, huh?” Betty looked between us. “Why?”
“Damian has something I want.” Cassander kept it simple, his eyes focused on Betty, his long fingers stroking down the condensation on the beer glass.
Both of Betty’s eyebrows went up, and I realized she was reading the situation entirely wrong when her lips opened, eyes going wide. “He has something you want ? Okay, then.”
Further down the bar, someone called for her attention, and she raised a finger, warning me I shouldn’t move until she was back before she walked down, laughing and joking with her customer before grabbing a couple of shot glasses and pouring.
“Why was she trapped here when you weren’t?” Cassander asked.
It was a reasonable question and one I had asked her enough times that I knew the answer.
“This is her dad’s bar. When she was in high school, he started losing his memory. He was an army vet—they think it was something that happened to him in the field.” I looked around, bringing my glass up to my mouth. I hadn’t recognized the beer she poured me, but it was hoppy. It tasted like California on my tongue. “She started working here and paying for him to have help during the day. Then she had to put him in a home her senior year of high school.”
“Why couldn’t she sell the business?”
“She couldn’t be sure it would be enough money to keep him in the home as long as he needed. His insurance covers some, but…” No, those were all the reasons that she had told me, all the lies she told herself. The reality was simpler. “This is the last thing she has of his.”
Cassander nodded. “Then it makes sense. To protect a parent’s memory—ah, well, there have been fortunes and kingdoms lost for less.”
I tilted my head, looking at him in profile. He was staring at the wall of alcohol behind the bar, half-full bottles of amber and golden liquids. His fingers stroked down the condensation again, and I couldn’t help but wish they were touching something else, touching my skin.
“You want the coin that badly?” I asked.
He nodded. When he turned to look at me, there was something chilly in his expression, something distant. Fortunes and kingdoms lost for less…
I shook my head. I had no reason to keep him with me, no reason to let him stay, not when his explicit purpose was to take a powerful magical artifact.
But I couldn’t send him away either. The gunmen might have been after him, but in Canada, they’d found him through me.
“Why do you want the coin?” I asked. “What would you want to change if you could?”
Cassander smiled thinly. “The company, for one.”
“Hey, I’m a charming guy. Plenty of people have said so.”
“If you’re paying them, it doesn’t count.” Cassander’s smile was wicked.
“If you’re implying I need to pay for company, then you have the wrong impression of me. People are knocking down my door to get some of this.” I turned my stool slightly, gesturing to myself, grinning when Cassander actually cracked a smile.
“You’re likely confused. Perhaps they knock down doors to get away from that.” Cassander took a drink of his beer, his cheeks puffing out in distaste before he forced himself to swallow. “What is this?”
“Beer. Some hoppy IPA, if I’m any judge.” I brought my own glass to my lips, taking a long drink. “Ahhhh. Good, isn’t it?”
Cassander lifted up his lip, the expression more horrified than a sneer. “You enjoy this?”
“Oh, yeah.” I took another drink. “It’s great.”
It wasn’t. California IPAs weren’t my favorite, but it was worth it to see the expression on his face, the mix of horror and distaste.
“Well, for all your talk of people enjoying your company, they must not be doing it for your taste.” Cassander looked down at the glass, dragging one finger through the condensation that had settled on the bar top.
Before he could say anything else, I heard shouts across the bar. In one glance, I took in the situation. One person was furious, unruly, and drunk. Another was patronizing, annoyed, and terrified.
Cassander looked over at the same time as me, sharpness in his gaze that reminded me of his expression when Riley had asked if he’d ever killed anyone.
Near one of the pool tables, four men were posturing aggressively, all with pool cues in their hands, their expressions growing darker as their volume increased.
“You cheated!” One of them was wearing a trucker hat, the stubble on his face having gone well past five o’clock straight into a 7:00 p.m. shadow. Maybe even a 5:00 a.m. shadow.
“We didn’t. You lost.” One of the other players looked barely over eighteen. I knew Betty was probably as careful as her father about letting in underage drinkers, which was to say not at all. This had been known as a hangout spot for high school seniors who didn’t want to go home.
Betty was frowning, beginning to untie her apron. I slid off my barstool, heading toward the commotion.
“What’s going on?”
“These punks cheated. And I want our money back.” Trucker Hat put one beefy finger in the center of the teenager’s chest and pushed.
“We didn’t cheat, old man. You need to get your eyes checked.” But the teenager’s friend was beginning to look nervous, wringing his hands on the pool cue, eyes looking around the room for help.
“Hey, let’s all take a deep breath before anyone does anything they regret,” I said mildly. “You think they cheated?”
“I know they cheated! Their ball always goes in the hole, and mine somehow always bounces off the edge.” He swung to face me, eyes bloodshot, breath smelling like stale beer. “They’re cheating!”
“It sounds like you’re having bad luck,” I said. “I know something about that. I’m having a bad few days, myself.”
“I want my money back!” Trucker Hat roared.
I wiped some spittle off my cheek and said, “Well? Are you cheating?”
At my question, the teenagers shook their heads. “No! He’s drunk. He’s not playing good.”
“Okay. How about this? You give him back the money you won off him, and we call it a draw.” I looked at the teenagers significantly. “And I don’t ask to see your ID to prove that you can be in here.”
Glaring at me, the teenager pulled out the wad of cash faster than a cat getting out of an ice bath.
“Okay.” I took the money from him, offering it over to Trucker Hat.
“I want more!” Trucker Hat’s face was red, his voice rising until I was sure they could hear it at the fancy hotels the next town over.
I worked my jaw back and forth, trying not to grit my teeth before managing, “Is this everything they won off you?”
“Dan,” Betty said firmly, arms crossed. She looked just as threatening as she had in high school. All five foot nothing of her said that she was ten seconds away from kicking his ass. “Lay off. And you guys, get out of here for now.”
The teenagers put their pool cues on the felt and fled, faster than I expected. But I wasn’t the only one that had noticed that “for now.”
“I want! My money!” Trucker Hat—Dan, apparently—bellowed so loud in my face that I made a show of wincing and sticking a finger in my ear like he’d damaged my hearing.
Then I held out the cash. “Here.”
Dan swayed, so I shook my head, tucking the cash into the pocket on his flannel shirt.
“I want all of it. I would have won if they hadn’t cheated. I want their money too.” For someone as drunk as he was, Dan was showing some sensible financial acumen.
“They’re gone. You aren’t getting another penny out of them,” I said. “How about another beer instead?”
I needed to charm him, but I was tired and thirsty and ready to not be the miracle agent Damian Reyes who could win over anyone who needed to be charmed.
“Well, if I can’t have their money, I’m going to take yours.” Dan lunged at me, and it wasn’t a fair fight. I had years of fighting experience, only a couple of mouthfuls of IPA, and I was a good ten years younger than him.
Still, when he rushed at me, I took a step back, bumping into a chair that hadn’t been there a moment ago, falling to the ground hard and banging my head on a stray pool ball. How had a pool ball gotten on the floor?
I saw stars for a second, and Dan stumbled. In a sensible world, he should have fallen down next to me, his drunkenness and overeager fist causing him to land unbalanced. But the world wasn’t fair, and nothing made sense because he fell directly on top of me, landing before arching up and swinging his fist into my cheek.
“Get off me!”
He had a good fifty pounds on me, and he was heavier with drunkenness. I grabbed the pool ball behind my head and smashed it across his cheek. He fell sideways, and I scrambled out from under him. As I stood, my eyes made two of him, each one getting up drunkenly.
“Dan, I already called the cops. Get out of here before they get here.” Betty sounded sensible, and now she held a shotgun in her hand, the barrel aimed at the floor, even if the threat was clear enough.
“I want my money ,” Dan slurred. Something splashed on him, and he spun, the movement taking him off-balance. The two of him that I saw in my vision wobbled again, and he took the few steps before collapsing onto a table.
“Well.” Cassander examined his glass. “I suppose I found a good use for this foul drink after all.”
We were going to be okay. I slumped back, leaning against the pool table.
I had forgotten about his friend. Dan’s friend had come around the table and lifted his pool cue up, swinging hard at my head.
I had been hit by things worse than a pool cue: a car, a twenty-pound bag of potatoes, and, memorably, a look-alike copy of the Maltese falcon. Still, I had just managed to lift my arm when the pool cue hit me. It was going to hurt; I winced in anticipation. It was really going to hurt.
Only it didn’t hit me at all. I opened my eyes. Splinters of wood fell around me, pieces of the pool cue clattering to the floor. I looked around and saw Cassander a few feet away, one hand up, extended toward me, his eyes flashing a glowing silver.
Then the cops burst in.