Mine to Keep (NOLA Knights #3) - Rhenna Morgan Page 0,30
glasses onto the tray. “Mmm hmm. Just know if they get rowdy on your watch and you didn’t cut ’em off before it happens, it’ll be your last night and those tips are gonna be the only thing you go home with.”
“You can’t do that!”
“Sure, I can.” She slid the tray toward Trixie and forced a matter-of-fact smile. “Gotta have some extra money to offset the medical bills I have to pay when those idiots decide to revamp customer faces.”
The scowl on Trixie’s face mirrored every uppity bitch Bonnie had ever known in high school. “Fine. After this round I’ll cut ’em off. But I’m tellin’ ’em it was you who made the call, not me.”
She reached for her tray, no doubt ready to flounce off and give the assholes an earful of how awful it was to work here, but froze a second later. Her eyes widened and an entirely different glint blossomed behind them. “Holy hell, would you get a look at them.”
Before Bonnie could turn for an assessment, the steady rumble of the Dog’s patrons dimmed as if NOPD’s finest had just ambled through the front door.
She turned, braced to pull out every permit she’d finally gotten current or to frog-march whichever idiot they were there to cuff out the front door—only to lock stares with Roman Kozlov. “Motherfucker.”
“You know them?” Trixie murmured behind her.
Them.
Right. Because Cassie and Kir were with him. Not that her insides seemed to care about that particular detail with the intense look Roman was giving her. And good God Almighty, he had on jeans, black Jacoby boots and a deep green T-shirt that put every inch of his solid torso on display. “Sort of.” She motioned Trixie to the knuckleheads in the corner. “Better get them their drinks. You keep staring at the new victims like that they’ll get jealous and drop your tips.”
The truth was, the idiots were probably too shit-faced to focus as far as the door by now, but the last thing Bonnie needed was Trixie’s gossip-loving ears anywhere near the trio headed her way.
Perched on the barstool right in front of her, one of her regulars dazedly gaped at Roman pretty much the same way everyone else was. Bonnie nudged his arm hard enough he nearly wobbled off his seat. “Hey, Leo. How about you scoot down a few, yeah?”
It took a few stammers and hard blinks before Leo’s mind seemed to catch up with her request, but he eventually stood and staggered to a new spot. “Yeah, right. Good idea.”
Good idea, indeed. Because neither Roman nor Kir looked like they were in the best of moods. Even Cassie, who was able to paint a smile on anything, was sporting a pinched expression.
“You three get lost?” Bonnie said as they reached the bar. With Kir in a fine gray suit and Cassie sporting ivory leggings and a fancy looking sweater tunic, they certainly looked lost compared to everyone else. “If you’d have given me some warning, I’d have fished out the Lysol and Febreze and given that stool a once over. Leo’s not known for exceptional hygiene.”
The quip managed to knock the worry off Cassie’s face and Kir managed a half-cocked smile, but Roman’s scowl only deepened.
She sucked in a bracing breath and scanned the lot of them. “I doubt the three of you were lookin’ for a new Friday night haunt, so what brings you to the Dusty Dog?”
Cassie looked to Kir.
Kir cocked an eyebrow at his wife that said, We’ve already had this discussion.
Roman just kept glaring at Bonnie. It’d sure felt like they’d parted on decent terms the other night, so either he’d had a shit day, or he hated the hellhole around him.
Cassie scoffed and slid onto the barstool Leo had vacated. “You haven’t answered my texts or calls, and we were worried about you.”
Well, of course she hadn’t answered any texts or calls. Four days hadn’t done a damned thing to make her feel like less of an idiot for asking for help and then saying thanks, but no thanks six hours later. “Not much to tell. Been working my ass off so I can get that stupid car of mine fixed.”
“No word from your dad or Kevin?”
“Nope. Not a thing.” She dared a glance at Roman.
Yep, still doing his laser-beam glare.
She cleared her throat. “I called all Dad’s friends. All Kevin’s friends. No one’s seen or heard from ’em. No hospital check-ins. Nothing at the police station. Just....nothing. For all I know,