Hollow (Heaven Hill Generations #4) - Laramie Briscoe Page 0,15
Robbie again. “You want us to start doing a circle around there late at night, before we come over here?”
“I’d appreciate it. Nine times outta ten I’m there by myself. They don’t want to pay shift difference to let me have help at night. Every once in a while, I’m in the cooler and I don’t hear the person come in. There’s been a few times I’ve been coming out of the back from stocking and somebody’s standing there waiting on me.”
“Alright, at least until we figure out what’s going on, we’ll add you to our routine. Lemme call Caelin and get him to tap into that security footage. See what he can get off it.”
Getting up, I make my way to the back of the club, standing on an elevated piece of the floor so I can look out over what’s going on. There’s a rowdy bunch of frat boys we might have to get up close and personal with later, but other than that, it looks like business as usual.
Drew comes over. “Caelin’s downloading the footage as we speak. He’s gonna see what he can get,” he says the last few words on a yawn.
“Go home,” I tell him. “Go be with your family.”
“Nah.” He looks at me. “I’m not leaving you here.”
“Jagger’s with me. We’ll be fine. You’ve got a family to go home to. Go.”
“If anyone should leave, it’s you. Walker’s sick…”
“Walker’s asleep. He’s not waking up for hours. We got this. Go ‘head.”
Drew doesn’t want to and that’s one of the reasons I love him. Anything he asks his guys to do, he’ll do right along with us, but there’s no reason for us both to be here. Eventually I convince him to leave and take up my spot, holding the wall up, looking out over the club.
A few hours later, the lights are on, the cleaning crew is here, and I’m walking the last of the girls out to her car. She’s one of the new ones - Laura, I think.
“It’s pretty awesome of y’all to come and make sure we get to our cars safely.”
“An old deal we had with Wanda while she was still alive. We keep it up for her daughter.”
It’s cold, and all I want to do is go by Walmart, get the ice cream Walker likes, and get my ass home. I don’t want this small talk.
“Still it’s nice of you all to do it in her memory.”
“Don’t make us out to be nicer than we are.”
When we get to her car, I take a look around the parking lot, making sure there’s no stragglers around, but it’s just her parked under the light, my bike to the left. The cleaning crew are in the front. What I really need her to do is get in and take the fuck off.
“Can I tell you something?”
I give her my attention, tilting my head to give the impression I’m really interested. She’s painted up still, the black of her eye make-up streaking down her face. Her lips once held color, but now they’re bare. She looks, as my uncle used to say, rode hard and put up wet. I’ll give it to her though; as I run my eyes down to her feet, she’s got a banging body, no matter how the face looks.
“Well, c’mon.”
She gives me this flirty smile, one that immediately sets me on edge. Her finger goes to the zipper of my jacket, toying with it.
“I’ve heard” - her eyes tilt up to mine, what I’m sure she considers a sexy smirk on her face - “that your wife left, and you’re stuck raising your son alone. I know how that feels.” She gets closer to me, all up in my personal space. “If you ever need to” - she rubs her tits against my chest - “work out some of your frustration, I’d be happy to help, Dalton.”
Quicker than she can gasp, I’ve got her hands above her head, pressed against her car. My thigh is in between hers, and not in a passionate way; it’s in a way to let her know I mean business.
“My wife and I are none of your damn business. I don’t know where you’re hearing this shit from, but you go back and you tell them to fuck right off. If I find out who said it, they’re mine. I don’t know what you think I like, but it’s definitely not some cheap stripper turning tricks in the back room at