Page 21 of Reckless Woman
I hold his gaze. “Maybe I’m making shit wrong for a change.”
“Oh?” He leans back in his seat again, looking mildly interested. “Tell me more. I’ve always wanted to see the Iceman melt.”
“Why? So you can piss in the mess on your carpet?” I chuckle darkly. “You don’t keep secrets, Rick, you hold them for ransom and then triple the interest.”
“Now you’re just being mean.”
Clasping my hands together, I blow out a harsh breath. “Get me a bourbon.”
Without missing a beat, he pushes the Scotch bottle and glass in my direction. “Something tells me you’re not in a fussy mood this evening.”
I pour out two large doubles, one after the other.
“Is it Dante?” he asks, watching me closely.
“Is what Dante?” My hostility is spilling out worse than his new bartender’s cocktail skills.
“The reason for the temper tantrum.”
When I don’t say anything, he flicks a silver coaster across the table at me. “How did you two meet, anyway? I’ve always wanted to ask.”
“Afghanistan.” I pour myself another drink. “Our M-ATV was blown up south of Kabul. We were the only survivors.”
Rick curls his mouth in scorn. “Oh Jesus. Don’t give me all that war hero story bullshit. I want to know the good stuff, like how he reeled you into this sordid world of ours. I’m betting, once upon a time, you were the star quarterback and all the pretty cheerleaders lifted up their skirts for you.” He leans forward, elbows on the table again. “What happened, Texas Sun? Did the bad shit trip you up?”
“He came looking for me.” I blast him back with the coldest fucking glare I have. “He was long gone from the Marines by then. He found me in a bar with dried blood on the floor, blue collars lined up like broken whiskey bottles at the bar, and a jukebox full of Springsteen.”
He winces. “Sounds hell.”
“He walked in alone, and an hour later he was walking out with me.”
“How did he turn you?”
I think of a morgue, two bodies, and no fucks left to give.
“After what we did in Afghanistan,” I say harshly. “I was already turning.”
“How many people have you killed for him,El Asesino?” he murmurs. “A hundred? A thousand? It doesn’t stain his soul, but with you—”
“Quit with the questions,” I warn, “or I’m making you one more.”
Rick holds his palms up in surrender. “I’m just looking after my business interests. You two are a bromance for the ages. Your connection is bone-deep. If one of you falls, you both do, and it looks to me like you’re on the fucking edge, Grayson.”
“Bullshit.”
“If you stumble and Santiago’s leash slackens, we all suffer. After Eve, you’re the only one who can keep him in check. If you’re a savage, he’s a fucking monster.”
“I’m nowhere near the edge, Sanders,” I say, forcing the lie. “All I am is jet-lagged, not drunk enough, and a thousand miles from my woman.”
“You could have just said that in the first place.”
“I’ve never had a way with words.” I raise the glass to my mouth again. “How about you? Did you wake up one day with a kilo of his coke in your hands?”
“I followed a red dress.” He flashes white teeth at me.
Well, what d’ya know? Same as me.
“I should have known a woman was involved.”