Snow Blind-J Collins 4 (20 page)

“No. Tell me now. It’ll give me an indication on how much you’re drinking tonight.”

“Tons.” By the time I finished relaying everything in clinical detail, he was parked in the driveway.

Without any prompt from me, Kevin climbed out of his Jeep and wrapped me in a hug. I missed his casual affection. Wasn’t the same kind of affection Martinez gave me, but I realized I needed it just as badly.

“Thanks.”

198

“You’re welcome. You don’t have to deal with this psycho family on your own, tough girl. Although, I don’t know why you insist on . . .”

“What?”

“Letting them destroy you a piece at a time.”

First time he’d commented on my relationship with the Collins family. “Next time Trish or Brittney calls me about helping Dad I’ll hit call forward.”

“Deal.”

“Let’s go.”

In my truck Kevin said, “Uh oh. I know that look, Jules, and it’s never good.”

I pushed in the cigarette lighter, holding the unlit smoke between my gloved fingers as I steered with my left hand. “What look?”

“The I’m-looking-to-kick-the-shit-out-of-someone look.”

“Wrong. I left my shit kickers at home. Despite what you and Jimmer think, I am not always looking for a fight.”

“Doesn’t matter. They seem to find you.”

“Lucky thing I didn’t bring my gun or my bow, huh?”

“Shit.”

I smiled and stomped on the gas pedal.

199

Although I’d spent plenty of time in bars recently, I hadn’t set foot in Dusty’s in months. Nothing had changed. Same cavelike atmosphere. Same barflies holding court. Same smells of beer, tobacco, dirt, and sweat.

We wound through the happy hour crowd until we reached the line of booths in the back room by the pool tables.
Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy
) blasted from the speakers.

Hadn’t occurred to me to look for my psycho ex-boyfriend until we’d settled in. Kevin said, “Didn’t see that asshole Ray hanging around anywhere, did you?”

“No. However, the night is still young.”

“Jesus. You scare me sometimes, you know that?”

“That’s what Martinez says right before he mumbles that I need a damn bodyguard.”

200

“He would know all about that.”

Not going there.

Carla, the uber-efficient cocktail waitress, breezed to our table. “Haven’t seen you guys in here for ages.”

“We’d better make up for lost time, huh? Bring us four shots of Don Julio and four Coors.”

“You betcha. I’ll start a tab.”

Kevin leaned across the table. “Someone else join-ing us?”

“Nah. Just you and me, babycakes.” I lit up.

His intent eyes locked to mine. Here was another chance to bare my soul about all the crap clogging up my life. I missed talking to Kevin about issues not involving the business, but tonight was about fun because we both needed it. “There’s an open pool table. Wanna shoot a game?”

Kevin’s gaze didn’t waver; he knew my hedging techniques better than anyone. “Only if we’re playing for money.”

“I’m screwed.”

He flashed his Tom Cruise pool shark smile. “And I didn’t even bring my cue.”

“Correction. I’m seriously screwed.”

I racked. Kevin broke. He scratched on his fourth ball. I managed to knock in three balls before he ran the table. I also managed to knock back both shots of my tequila, one of his, and two of the Coors before league play started.

I slapped a twenty in his hand and dropped ten 201

bucks in the jukebox.

Carla lined up two more shots on my side of the booth. I licked the area between my thumb and first knuckle and poured salt on it. “Down the hatch.” The liquid slid down my throat like candy.

Kevin lifted his brows.

I removed the lime wedge from my teeth.

“What?”

“Been a while?”

“Yep. Carla was kind enough to bring them. Be a pity to let them go to waste.”

“Altruistic of you.”

“I thought so.” Sara Evans sang
Suds in the Bucket
and my foot tapped. Catchy tune.

Kevin finished his second Coors and moved the empty can to the edge of the table. “Gotta see a man about a horse.”

Sipping beer in my favorite bar with my best friend, good tunes on the jukebox, family shit forgotten. For the briefest moment, all was right with the world.

Naturally, my cell phone rang and destroyed my synchronicity with the universe.

I checked the caller ID. Martinez. I answered,

“What?”

“Hello to you, too, blondie.”

“Something you need?”

“Just a sec.” He held his hand over the mouthpiece while he spoke to someone.

I hated not having his undivided attention even 202

on the phone.

He came back on the line. “Where are you?”

“Out.”

Stunned silence.

Guess I had his full attention now.

I smoked, amused by the cowgirl in sparkly Western regalia cozying up to a cowboy with a monstrous belt buckle. Had he won it eating dirt? Or was the buckle a prop to pick up hotsy-totsy bunnies?

The pause continued.

My palms got itchy. “You need something?” I asked with forced sweetness.

A crash echoed in my ear. “Hang on.”

I didn’t. I hung up. Drank my last shot and signaled Carla for another round.

The booze hit me like a Wyoming coal train.

Woo-woo
. All aboard the 7:15 Julie express to Shit-faced-ville.

My phone rang. Martinez again. Big fucking surprise.

“What?”

“You gonna tell me where you are or not?”

Not
. Surly girl pushed past the cobwebs in my head and demanded, “Why? Did we have plans or something?” I exhaled. “Oh, that’s right,
no
, we don’t, because you’re in Colorado. Again.”

Dead air. “You done?”

“Not even close,
bud
.”

“You’re drunk.”

203

“Not yet.”

Victorious shouts sounded from by the dart-boards.

“What the fuck happened today?”

“Nothing tequila can’t fix. You’d know all about my shit day if you were here, but you’re not. So I guess you’ll have to read about it in the fucking newspaper like everybody else.”

“Where are you?”

“I don’t see why it matters where I am, Martinez.”

His was an angry pause this time. I knew the difference even three sheets to the wind.

Screw it. “Later.” I hung up and shut the damn thing off.

Kevin whistled and slipped back into the booth.

“That was harsh. Even for you.”

“Yeah, well, it’s time he knew I can’t always be—

how did you phrase it? Mary-fucking-sunshine. And no, I don’t want to talk about it.”

He snagged a fresh beer and settled in.

I braced myself with a straight shot without the frills.

“Whoa, slow down there, partner,” Kevin said.

“How many of these did you have while I was gone?”

“Less than ten.”

His gaze landed on the empty shot glasses.

“You okay?”

“Fine as frog’s hair.”

Kevin seemed to be watching me closely. Very closely. I tried to act normal. Sober. Serious.

204

Except things were getting fuzzy. And blurry.

“Ain’t you Martinez’s old lady?”

My head swiveled. Ooh, skank alert. Nyla, the meth-head crack whore from the Hombres clubhouse leered at me. Even my beer-goggles didn’t improve her ragged appearance; runny nose, vacant red eyes, bruises down her right cheek, scratches on her neck.

“Yeah, I am. Why?”

“He around here?”

“No. Why do you care?”

Her chapped lips twisted. “Unfinished business.”

“Wrong. You’ve got
no
business with him.”

“You wish.”

“Stay away from him and keep your filthy fucking paws off him.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll rearrange your ugly face.”

She sneered. “Think you’re so fuckin’ tough.

Lemme tell you somethin’.”

“This oughta be stellar advice from a crank head.”

A cheer rose from the dance floor when the band started playing; Nyla’s mouth moved but the words were lost in the music and drunken revelry.

“—be getting in touch with you.”

“What? I didn’t hear you.”

I squinted at Kevin because I was seeing two of Nyla, and that was two too many. I yelled, “What’d she say?”

“Hell if I know.”

205

Closing one eye against my double vision, I looked up and Nyla was gone. “Hey, where’d skanky-ho go?”

“I have no idea. She seems out of place here.

What did she want?”

“I think she wanted to fight me.”

“You wish.” He moved my half-empty beer next to the wall. “I think it’s time you switched to coffee, babe.”

“I think it’s time we danced.” I grabbed his hand and tugged, lost my balance, and slipped down in the booth, knocking a couple of empty beer cans to the floor. I laughed hysterically. “Come on, partner, I love this song.”

“You don’t even know what song it is.”

“Sure, I do.”

“Name it.”

I stopped and listened. He was right. I didn’t know. “Something about mattress dancing?”

“You’re drunk,” Kevin said.

“No shit,” I slurred.

“Feel like you’re gonna barf?”

“Hell, no. Barfing is for lightweights.”

He laughed.

Whoa. Room spinning. Head rush. Maybe it would be easier to concentrate if I closed my eyes. And set my forehead on the table.

“Is she okay?” Carla asked somewhere above my head.

“Bring us a couple of Cokes—no ice—and a cup 206

of coffee.”

Sleep beckoned like the perfect lover.

“Jules, you’d never live it down if you passed out in Dusty’s.”

“True.” I lifted my head very slowly.

Kevin’s familiar face swam into view. Made me happy and sad. “Sorry I’m such a sucky time.”

“You are not a sucky time. For Christsake, don’t say ‘I love you, man’ and get teary eyed.”

“Fuck you. I’m not gonna cry.”

“Then why are you sniffling?”

Because I love you, man.
“’Cause I got a piece of lime up my nose.” I fumbled with my cigarettes.

Kevin snatched my lighter. “Let me. Don’t want you to start your hair on fire.”

“I’m not
that
drunk.”

“Right.”

Carla dropped off the drinks. I sucked down both Cokes, popped three Excedrin, and suffered through the black sludge known as Dusty’s coffee. Even asked for a refill. Twice.

After a bit, don’t know how long—hours blur living on tequila time—I felt more in control, but nowhere near totally sober. I needed a distraction.

“Tell me what’s going on with you and Amery.”

It appeared he wanted to hedge, but he finally said, “I’ve been with her since she returned from Vegas.

One minute she’s fine; the next she’s hysterical. Yeah, she’s burying her grandfather tomorrow, so that’s to 207

be expected, but honestly? I needed a break from her tonight.” Kevin actually looked embarrassed. “Then there’s her whole rant about suing the pants off Prairie Gardens because it’s their fault he’s dead.”

“You know she probably has a good case.”

“No argument from me. She could probably own that place if she gets the right lawyer.”

“Much as we need the work, I certainly hope you aren’t planning to help her with this case and her pursuit of justice in the form of cash.”

A shadow fell across the table. We both glanced up expecting Carla.

But Big Mike towered over me. “Sorry to interrupt, but bossman would like to see you.”

“He’s back from Denver? Since when?”

“Just now.”

“How the hell did he find me?”

Big Mike said nothing.

“Did those fucking sneaky goons of his follow me here?”

“I don’t know. He wants to talk to you. Outside.”

I snorted; it smelled like limes. “If he wants to talk to me, he can come in here.”

“Not an option.” He frowned at the pile of empty beer cans teetering on our table. “Come on, Julie. Five minutes. That’s all he wants.”

I shook my head.

He sighed. “What am I supposed to tell him?”

“Tell him he can kiss my ass.”

208

Big Mike straightened to his full six-feet-six height; his eyes flattened to hard disks. He turned and stalked off.

“Was that smart?” Kevin asked.

“Probably not.”

He mumbled something about a death wish.

I fidgeted in the seat. Thought about smoking another cigarette. Seriously considered ordering another shot. As my indecision wore on, the noise from the pool games and the dance floor escalated.

“Go,” Kevin said.

“What message would that send him? That

he can command my presence whenever the hell he wants? Fuck that.” I crossed my arms over my chest, the picture of belligerent.

Kevin grinned in that devilish way that still charmed me. “Sounds like a perfect opportunity to tell him how you feel.”

“You’re just egging me on because I’m still half-drunk.”

“Yep.”

I crammed my crap back in my purse and buttoned up my coat. “Come looking for me if I’m not back here in five. Seriously.” I bussed Kevin’s forehead on my way past the booth. I’d missed hanging out with him.

In trying to dodge the flurry of twirling bodies and cowboy hats on the dance floor, someone bumped into me. Hard.

“Watch where the fuck you’re goin’, bitch.”

209

I faced the snarling voice. Wow. The woman had the biggest nose and ears I’d seen outside a zoo. “You talking to me?”

“Yeah, I’m talkin’ to you.”

“
You
bumped into me.”

“So?” Her big nostrils flared revulsion like a skunk crossed her path. “Maybe that means you oughta get the fuck out of my way.” She pushed me.

Bad move.

I shoved her back with enough force she fell on her fat ass. “Now I’m out of your way. Stay out of mine.”

Her dance partner lifted her by her jiggly upper arms, holding her back while she screeched at me. My head pounded as I exited the bar.