“Oh boy, I think you drank more than I should have let you.”
It’s my fault, really. Any other guy I would have cut off earlier, but I made at least eighty bucks off Finn, which is more than enough to fill up my fridge and still have some left over for my mom. I either got distracted or greedy. Take your pick.
“It’s okay. I told you I didn’t bring my car,” he tries to pacify me.
“Why not? Were you worried someone would steal it?”
“Something like that,” he admits, and I can’t help but laugh. “I like how you laugh,” he adds in a sultry tone, his fixed gaze dropping to my lips, making my insides start to liquefy.
“That’s it. No more beer for you, mister,” I reply sternly, hoping it serves as an excuse for him not to say shit like that to me. I mean, a girl can only take so much.
“I like how your plump mouth opens just a tiny bit when you do it. And the sound is sexy as fuck.”
“Now I know you’re drunk, quarterback,” I play off.
“I’m not drunk,” he utters steadfastly.
“Well, you’re not making any sense either. Just pack it up for the night, pretty boy. Whatever you came here for isn’t happening tonight.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” he replies before drinking the remainder of his beer in one fell swoop and slamming the bottle on the bar. “Guess I’ll just have to take my chances tomorrow,” he adds, this time leaving a crisp hundred on the counter for me.
I pick it up and put it inside my bra, next to the other bills he’s given me tonight. Against my better judgment, I halt his step before he leaves and say, “Finn, don’t come tomorrow. You’re wasting your time.”
“We’ll see.”
Chapter 14
Finn
Just as I promised Stone, I’m right back at the bar the next night, sitting on the stool by the counter. I’m here every night she’s working, knowing the only day I can stay clear out of this rat hole is on Thursdays when she has her night off. Unfortunately for me, Big Jim’s Bar has become my second home for the next couple of weeks.
Even though I’m here to make my presence known, I’m unsure if I’m making any real progress. I don’t know if I’m playing by The Society’s rules and being the good little soldier they want me to be, or if I’m missing the mark entirely. At least they haven’t made any more demands, nor have they gone after me or any of the guys. I think they made their point loud and clear on the day they wrecked my car with pig’s blood.
Killer.
That’s what they called me.
That’s what everyone will call me if the truth ever gets out.
I can’t let that happen. If coming to this dump every night for all eternity is my penance, then so be it. I’ll do whatever I need to do to keep the truth under lock and key. I thought the only downside to this arrangement would be spending a few hours in this shithole, filled with cockroaches and filth. But as each night passes, it gets harder and harder to be here for a whole other reason entirely; the very one The Society has forced upon me—Stone Bennett.
I spend my nights scowling at every guy in the joint. And when I say every guy, I mean every last one of these fucking assholes who can’t keep their eyes in their skulls whenever Stone is bartending. She sure as shit doesn’t make it easy on me either. She comes in every night looking even hotter than the night before. Most nights she’s wearing booty shorts or miniskirts that show off her tanned legs, along with her phoenix tattoo, making every dipshit in the place imagine those legs wrapped around their waist, or worse, around their head. Don’t even get me started on those ripped up T-shirts she’s always flaunting around.
Case in point, the one she’s wearing tonight is just a tear away from leaving her stark fucking naked. I wouldn’t even have to put much effort into shredding the flimsy garment apart since there’s barely any material to speak of. Not only does it leave her belly button fully exposed, showcasing her flat stomach and slender waist, but it also ends up drawing even more attention to those thick thighs of hers, not to mention the amazing ass that you just can’t help but want