Chapter Four
T he back door of the club flew open and a drunk chick stumbled out.
She smiled up at me. “What’s your name?”
I spared her a glance. Big tits, tight ass, round hips. She was hot, but she sure as hell wasn’t classy. I scanned the alley again. “Does it matter?” After watching the classy brunette get hit on one too many times, I’d told Preston to get his ass upstairs. He could scare off Satan with a single fucking glance.
The drunk chick twirled her hair. “Mine’s Meadow.”
“Fan-fucking-tastic.” I didn’t give a shit what her name was. I’d told Collins to take the front, and I was outside the rear entrance of the club getting a breather from witnessing the shitshow of pansy fucks hitting on the classy brunette that was playing out upstairs.
The drunk chick took in the entourage of expensive vehicles parked in the alley. “So what kind of car do you drive?”
Jesus Christ. “If I’m pounding into your cunt, are you really gonna be worried about my ride?”
Her eyes went wide in fake offense. “I was just making conversation.”
“I was just working.” And trying really fucking hard to do my job without shooting someone.
Her face scrunched up in confusion. “What do you do?”
Was she blind? “Security. Go back inside.”
She didn’t get a clue and leave. “Like a security guard?”
“No.” I wasn’t some fucking mall rent-a-cop. “Personal security.”
Her face lit up. “Like a bodyguard!”
What the fuck did she think I was doing outside the back of club at oh-one-hundred on a fucking Thursday? Trolling? “She wins a prize,” I deadpanned. “Have another drink.”
She smiled and swayed on her fuck-me pumps. “I already had a few.”
Goddamn, this night was getting longer. “No fucking shit.”
She giggled. “I love margaritas.”
Christ. Fifty bucks I could have her on her knees, sucking my cock in two minutes flat, which I maybe would’ve considered before an innocent, sexy-as-fuck and too-damn-good-for-me brunette fell into my arms and looked up at me like I was a goddamn king. Now she was all I could think about, and this drunk chick didn’t come close to measuring up. Besides, I was on duty, and despite what everyone thought about me, I wasn’t a complete trigger-happy dick. “Go back inside and find someone else.”
She pouted. “I’m not looking for someone else.”
I smirked. “And I’m not fucking you tonight. Run along.”
Relentless, she smiled. “Another night?”
I dragged my gaze, slow and purposeful, down the length of her just to test myself. Nope. I was still obsessing about a stunning brunette with diamond earrings who smelled like innocence and bad decisions.
Looking decidedly less drunk, the Meadow chick whipped her cell phone out. “Come on, it’ll be fun. What’s your number?”
I smirked. “Nice try.”
“Definitely a bleeder,” Collins spoke through the comm. “Walk away.”
The fuck classified every woman as either a bleeder or trouble. In his book, women either bled your checkbook dry or caused you trouble. Hearing the gossip about his background from some of the guys who worked at Luna and Associates with me, I wasn’t surprised by his attitude.
I touched the comm. “Where am I gonna walk to?” The alley behind the club only had one way in and one way out, and I was over the bullshit inside, so that left me nowhere.
Meadow’s face scrunched up. “Who are you talking to?”
“Don’t worry about it.” I pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
“You smoke?” she asked incredulously.
I blew smoke over her head because I was a fucking gentleman like that. “Only when I’m bored.”
She made a face. “No one smokes anymore.”
“Good thing I don’t give a shit what other people do.”
“People vape now,” she continued, like I gave a damn.
“I don’t.” I wasn’t a fucking pussy. If I was gonna suck down nicotine, I was going old-school.
She looked at me like she was solving a math problem in her head, then she reached for my cigarette. “All right, I’ll have a drag.”
“No, you won’t.” With her attitude, who knew where her mouth had been tonight. Not judging, but some chick’s secondhand cum-swallow spit wasn’t touching my cigarette.
“Why not?” she whined.
“You want one, take one.” I held my pack out.
Her hands went to her hips. “I don’t want my own.”
“I don’t share.” One of the only things I didn’t.
Her attitude disappeared in a nanosecond, and fake seduction pouted her lips. She dragged a finger down my chest. “That sounds promising.”
“Not for you.” I shoved my pack back in my pocket.
Her attitude came back in spades. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Exactly what I said.” Jesus Christ, I was bored with this shit. “Go back inside, babe. I’m not what you’re looking for.”
Collins snorted through the comm. “I’m sending backup.”
Preston stepped out the rear exit of the club. Without a word, he stood next to me. Inked all to hell, his gaze everywhere and nowhere, he didn’t say shit, and he didn’t make eye contact with the stripper wannabe.
Meadow looked him up and down. “Who’s your friend?”
I took a page out of Preston’s book and mimicked him. My feet shoulder width apart, my hands in front of me, I stared over her head and didn’t say shit.
It took two fucking seconds for her to get a clue.
“Whatever,” she scoffed. “You’re both fucked-up.” She walked back into the club.
“Good call,” Preston said after the door shut. “You were the fifth guy she hit on tonight.”
I chuckled. “Got your eye on her, huh?”
He glanced up and down the alley, but he didn’t take the bait. He never took the fucking bait. Not even downrange when we were ten days into a FUBAR mission and low on ammo was I able to rile him. Didn’t mean the fucker wasn’t wound tight. He was. Tighter than anyone I’d ever met.
I offered him a smoke.
He shook his head. “I don’t smoke.”
“You did downrange,” I reminded him.
“Served a purpose then.”
“It doesn’t now?” Boredom was boredom.
He ignored the question and subject jumped like he usually did. “Brunette inside, the friend, she likes you.”
“Is this high school? You passing notes?” I made a joke, but I was fucking irritated.
When the third prick hit on her, I’d told Preston I’d needed a smoke and to get his ass upstairs. Then I’d stupidly watched asshole number four hit on her before coming out to the back alley to remind myself I didn’t do high-maintenance chicks. Or rich ones. And I sure as hell didn’t pilfer from the Luna and Associates social pool.
You’d never know I worked with a bunch of highly trained, highly skilled, lethal Marines. They gossiped like schoolgirls around the free protein bars and energy drinks in the staff room at base that doubled as a kitchen. You so much as blinked at a woman, they hazed you about it. So the brunette was a hard pass, but goddamn, I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
“She looked at you seventeen times,” Preston commented, delivering his own brand of crazy.
I took one last drag, then dropped the cigarette and stepped on it. “You still counting shit?”
“You still pulling the trigger every time you hear a suspicious noise?” he countered.
I smiled. “Sometimes I pull the trigger without hearing a noise.”
He nodded once like everything about this conversation was normal as fuck. “She likes you. She isn’t desperate.”
I’d learned on my first tour to take the shit Preston said with an ounce of humility and a pound of fucking vigilance. He’d saved my life a dozen times over downrange. I zeroed in on the content of what he’d said. “Not being desperate is good?”
“It is when you don’t want a bag of crazy.”
I laughed. “No shortage of that around here.” Who the fuck was sane after experiencing war?
Collins snorted into the comm. “Speak for yourself.”
Both of us ignoring Collins, Preston didn’t take offense. He rarely did. “Just passing the information along.” He reached in his pocket, then held out a piece of folded paper. “And this.”
I took the paper. “What the fuck is it?”
“The guest list.”
I looked. Then like a pussy, I scrolled. She was halfway down the list. Ludeviene Loic . Her address, phone number, and brief physical description followed—standard Luna and Associates protocol for events like this. I refolded the paper and handed it back to Preston. “I don’t need this shit.”
He took it without comment and shoved it in his pocket.
“Incoming, you pricks,” Collins quipped through the comm. “And, Preston, get the hell back in here. It’s crowded as fuck.”
The back door opened and, speak of the devil, the classy brunette stepped out.
“Oh.” Startled, she looked between me and Preston. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”