to miss, as it covers most of the wearer’s chest.
Most of the time, I’m good about not letting the Colony rule my every move, so why have I suddenly reverted back to eating as if I’m sitting in a royal court?
My stomach turns over. It’s because of last night. Being whipped, punished in a way that the Colony favored, has flipped the switch on the old habits that I’d finally started to let go of. It doesn’t matter if Spider can’t possibly know that he chose a form of retribution that the pastors preferred. It’s still had the same affect.
“Sorry,” I mutter, hurriedly finishing my meal.
One of the guys gets up and leaves, and Dee sits in his place, watching me with amusement. I immediately kick myself for leaping to appease her. I might have betrayed Dee’s trust, but that doesn’t mean I have to be a doormat around her. I can’t do that with her any more than I can with Spider.
She opens her mouth as if to say something, then closes it and clenches her jaw.
“What?” I say tightly, certain she’s about to poke fun at something I’ve said or done.
“The morning after Spider brought you to Casper’s…”
I lower my fork slowly.
“I keep waiting for Spidy to have it out with Snake for my hitting you, but he hasn’t. Why the hell didn’t you tell him it was me?”
I stare at my half-eaten hash browns, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. At last, I meet her eyes. “Why would I do that when I deserved it?”
Dee regards me in silence for several long seconds, a penetrating stare that makes me squirm in my seat. I’d give anything to know what she’s thinking.
“Huh,” is all she finally says. “Come on,” she adds in a much crisper tone, getting up and snatching my plate. “Move your ass. Time to get to work.”
Uncertainty biting into me, I follow Dee to the bar to pick up my first orders of the morning.
Tequila takes one look at my chest and her mouth forms an “Oh.” She almost drops the glass she’s filling with beer. “Jesus,” she breathes.
Kill me now. Please, just kill me now.
“There you go,” Gin says, handing me a tray loaded with drinks. She gives me a friendly smile. Her bubbly, pleasant voice causes some of the depression in me to lift.
The tray shakes a little in my hand with the weight of a full pitcher of beer and a number of full glasses.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She reaches out her hand, ready to grab the tray. Tequila shakes her head at her, but she doesn’t appear to see it. “Is that too heavy for you?”
I smile. Gin suddenly reminds me of Sam, the new girl at The Devil’s Den. The thought causes a twinge in my chest. I never thought I’d miss that place.
“Don’t help her,” Dee says, watching me.
Gin lowers her hand, giving me an apologetic look.
“I’m good,” I say, hoping to heck I can make it to the tables without the tray going flying.
Some of the beer in the pitcher sloshes onto the tray. A few drops hit the cuts on my chest, making me wince at the corrosive sting.
Gin’s eyes widen. “Wow. Those look painful. I have a T-shirt you can borrow.”
I turn my head as I set down the pitcher for Eight-Ball and Mort at their table. “Would you? That’d be—”
“Nope.” Dee looks up as she fills a bowl on the bar with peanuts. “That’s the shirt Spider wants her to wear.” She cracks open a peanut shell and pops the nuts into her mouth.
My teeth grind. Hatred for Spider flares like the fires of hell.
Gin lets out a low breath and shrugs in a The boss lady has spoken sort of way, and starts filling a pitcher. Her eyes seem to say, She doesn’t like you very much, does she?
I set the rest of the drinks down at another table where Arson and Reaper sit eating steak and onions.
Arson peers at my chest, letting out a low whistle. “Damn. There’s no doubt you’re Spider’s bitch now.”
It’s a good thing Spider isn’t here right now. If he was, I’d probably have punched him.
13
What Happens After
The next couple of hours pass by agonizingly slow.
The mostly male patrons come and go, the breakfast hour rush ebbing as the morning wears on, then swelling to the lunch hour bustle that leaves Pops’ busy again. Dee shows up now and again, but says nothing to me. Monica passes by me on occasion, pushing past