Destroying Beauty (Hell Hounds Motorcycle Club): Vegas Titans Series (4 page)

I slow down as I drive past. There are a couple non-police
officers milling around out front, probably just curious citizens. Should I go
ask what's going on? No, that would be reckless, like a criminal returning to
the scene of the crime, even though I'm not the criminal. Wait…would I be
guilty of something for
not
going to the police? Like obstruction or
something? Tears form behind my eyes as I pull up to the next stoplight. Fuck,
I'm clueless. My mom would know about this kind of stuff, but of course I can't
ask her.

I drive the last several miles to Billy's struggling to pull
it together, and park in an employee spot. I pull the rearview mirror toward
me, giving myself one last check, then step out of the car and head inside.

The lunch crowd has already cleared out, and the happy hour
people aren’t here yet, so the place is pretty empty. I see Frankie behind the
bar restocking glasses, and I wave to him as I walk back to the kitchen. The
line cooks are all laughing about something, so I slip unnoticed into the
manager's office.

"Hey, Carl," I greet him. I make sure not to smile
at him. I think Carl hired me thinking he'd be able to sleep with me, so I make
it a point to actively discourage him from that notion.

"Jo…" he says, swiveling around in his chair and
looking me up and down. Amazing. Not even trying to hide it. I am so not in the
mood for this.

"I need to get another shirt."

He clicks his tongue at me like I'm an errant child.
"You know that comes out of your paycheck, right? I guess for you, I could
just—"

"That's OK, I'll pay for it," I jump in.
Like
I'd ever want to owe you one.

"Hey, whatever you want," he says with a shrug,
reaching to the shelf behind him where he keeps the extra shirts. "What
are you, a small?" he asks, using the question as another opportunity to
ogle my breasts.

"Yup, a small," I reply, struggling to keep the
impatience out of my voice. He hands the shirt to me and opens his mouth to say
something else, but I grab the shirt. "Thanks!" I say, turning
quickly out of the room and heading to the hallway. I stash my purse in a
locker and pull the shirt on over my tank top.

Frankie greets me with a smile as I walk back out of the
kitchen and join him behind the bar. He's one of the only bright spots of
working here. Billy's is his second job, on top of a gig working mall security
in another town. He's got a wife he adores and a young son to support.

"Hey, you feel OK about closing up tonight?" he
asks kindly, his brow furrowing over his glasses.

"Yeah, sure, why?"

"Because of the robbery." I look at him in
confusion. "You didn't hear? The gas station on Laurel was robbed, two
people shot."

I freeze. A robbery? Definitely not.

"Yeah? They catch the guy? Have any suspects or
anything?"

"Mmm, I just caught the news this morning, but I don't
think they do yet. If there's another robbery in the area, I don't think you
should be closing."

"It's OK, Frankie. There's always a couple guys from
the kitchen left and a server or two." Plus, it wasn't a robbery. I might
not have seen the gunman, but he wasn't there for money. Sounded more like he
had some old argument with the Hispanic guy, and they just happened to run into
each other.

"Alright, if you're sure. I just doubt they're going to
catch the guys because there wasn't a tape."

"A tape?"

"Yeah, there wasn't a tape in the security camera.
Either the thieves stole it, or there wasn't one in there in the first place.
Too bad. You have to be a really sick person to kill two people just for some
cash."

A security camera. If the gunman took it, he'll see me on
there. Wearing my work t-shirt. I honestly didn't think this could get any
worse, but I was wrong.

Chapter Four

Holt

I study the picture that Pitt printed out for me. It's black
and white and unfocused, but I can just make out the woman's features. She
looks pretty cute, actually. I memorize her face and then fold up the photo and
tuck it into the glove compartment.

I came out to Eatonville a little earlier tonight in my
pickup. Bark told me to leave all evidence that I'm in an MC behind, in case
that would make the girl suspicious of me. I open the car door and step out
into the parking lot of Billy's Bar and Grill. I survey the brightly lit,
family friendly sign. Fuck. This does not look like the kind of place I'd
normally be caught dead in. Well, at least I put on a clean shirt.

I walk slowly to the front door, still unsure of exactly
what I'm going to do. As I step inside, a young hostess smiles up at me. She's
wearing the same white t-shirt with curly writing that the woman in the photo
had on, but it's definitely not her.

"Hi, welcome to Billy's Bar and Grill," she says
brightly, a blush spreading across her face as I smile at her. Good to know I
still have that effect without my cut.

"Hey, darlin'," I murmur. She self-consciously
toys with the ends of her hair.

"Um, so just you, then? Anyone joining you?"

"Just me."

"Would you like a table? Or a seat at the bar,
maybe?"

"I'll take the bar." She turns to lead me over.
"Hey, this may sound like a strange question, but I've got a friend who
loves this place. That shirt you're wearing—can I buy one here for her?"

"Oh, no, sorry, they're only for staff."

"Too bad," I smile, walking behind her to the bar.
Well, that's a positive sign, at least. The woman probably worked here at some
point, if she doesn't still. Maybe if I don't see her I could show someone her
picture…that would look pretty suspicious, though. The hostess leads me to the
bar and hands me a thick, laminated menu.

"Just in case you want to order food. Please let me
know if you need anything else," she adds with a smile. I watch her walk
away, knowing she's probably already willing to go home with me tonight. But
that's not what I'm here for. I glance around the rest of the restaurant. It's
pretty busy. Families, people drinking after work, some couples. I check out
each server as they walk around, but none looks familiar. The bartender at my
end is busy with a set of indecisive customers, so I glance toward the other
side and see a flash of blonde hair bending over in a short skirt.

Damn. I haven't seen an ass like that in a while, and I'm
surrounded by plenty of excellent examples. She straightens up, and my stomach
tenses. It's the girl in the picture. Except the picture didn't do her justice.
Nothing close to the real thing. I take my menu and slip off my stool and walk
to her end of the bar as innocuously as I can; I don't think the other
bartender spotted me in his section yet.

I slide onto an empty stool nearer to her and open my menu,
studying her out of the corner of my eye. Shit, she's gorgeous. Her face is
much more delicate than it looked in the freeze frame from the video. Large
brown eyes, small nose, soft pink lips, and long blonde hair. She actually
looks out of place in a restaurant like this because there's something so
classical about her beauty. I shift in my seat. Her looks should just make my
reconnaissance mission more fun, but for some reason it's making me
uncomfortable.

She glances over to me and I look back down. A moment later
and I see her white t-shirt appearing over the top of my menu.

"Hey, welcome to Billy's Bar and Grill. I'm Jo. Do you
know what you'd like to drink?"

"Jo."

"Yep…" she looks at me questioningly. Her gaze is
so direct that I'm thrown off my game for a second.

"Short for Josephine?"

"Old-fashioned, I know," she replies with a little
smile, though I can see a sadness in her eyes. I wonder if she's told anyone
what she saw last night.

"No, it suits you. Sorry, I haven't had a chance to
look at the beers…what do you recommend?"

"Why don't you try the IPA we're featuring this
month," she suggests, grabbing a short glass and pouring me a taste from
the tap. I look down at her left hand. No ring. "It's from Great Basin
Brewing Company." She pushes the glass across to me and I take a sip.

"Never heard of them. Damn, that's pretty hoppy, but I
like it." I nod and she fills up a pint glass for me.

"They're new. I started this thing where we feature a
smaller brewery every month, try to help them out and get their name out
there."

I lean forward. "So you're as smart as you are
beautiful. I—"

"Excuse me," she murmurs politely, and walks away
to help an older woman down the bar.

Fuck. I can't remember that last time a woman showed that
little interest in me. Usually there's something, some kind of signal, but with
her…nothing. Well, she is beautiful, so she must get hit on all the time,
especially working as a bartender. Maybe I need to take a different approach. I
flip the menu open, glancing over the food options since it looks like I'll be
staying awhile.

I sip my beer quickly as I watch her work. She moves
gracefully, but every now and then I see her stop and space out, her eyes
glazing over. I wonder if she'd ever seen any kind of violence before last
night. I shake my head at myself, remembering my response to Fish's challenge.
Don't
empathize with this woman
.

She wanders back over as I empty my beer.

"Good, huh?" she asks. "Another?"

"You're probably gonna have to cut me off," I warn
her. She eyes my wide shoulders.

"Somehow I doubt that…what're you, six foot five or
so?"

"On the dot."

"I can't imagine how much it takes for you to get
drunk."

"I'm no cheap date," I admit with a shrug. This
gets a small guffaw out of her.

"I'll keep that in mind."

"I'm Holt, by the way."

"Holt. That your first name?"

"Last. That's what my…my friends call me." Almost
said brothers. "Andy's my first name."

"Nice to meet you…Holt."

"So, what's good on this menu?"

"Honestly?" she asks with a smile. "The
fajitas are safe. I'd go with the fajitas."

"Steak fajitas it is," I reply, closing the menu.
She turns around to put in my order, and I find my eyes wandering down to her
narrow waist, imagining wrapping my hands around it…

"So you've never been in here before?" she asks,
with her back still turned to me.

"No, why?"

"Um, it just doesn't seem like your usual place,"
she says, turning to face me with a shy smile.

"What does that mean?" I say, raising my eyebrows
at her with a grin. Guess my clean shirt isn't helping matters much.

"I mean you stick out like a sore thumb. Plus, you're
by yourself."

"Ah. I was supposed to meet someone at this dive bar
down the street," I lie, thinking of a place I drove by, "but they
canceled at the last minute, and I was hungry. Not too many options around
here."

She nods, accepting my story. "It's pretty quiet.
Usually," she adds, her smile disappearing. Behind me, someone drops a
glass and it shatters loudly on the ground. I barely flinch, but she jumps
about a foot in the air.

"You alright there?" I ask, frowning as she leans
over, bracing her hands on the bar.

"Um…no…sorry, I just…" she mutters. I bend my head
down to get a look at her face. Her eyes are closed tightly, and it looks like
she's having trouble breathing. I take her hand and it disappears as I cover it
with both of mine.

"Stand up and take a deep breath," I instruct her,
seeing she's spiraling into a panic.

"Can't," she replies, shaking her head.

"Listen to me. Are you listening?"

"Mmm."

"Tell me about your first kiss," I say, trying to
distract her from what I know is going through her mind.

"What? That's…"

"What was his name?"

"Chris."

"Chris what?"

"Chris…Lewandowski."

"Where?"

"This tree, um, this tree by the school," she
says, straightening up a little. I rub her palm gently. Her skin is so soft.

"What grade were you in?"

"Seventh."

"Was it a nice day out?"

"Yeah, it had just rained that morning I think, because
the air still had that smell," she says, blinking as though she's just
waking up.

"Was he a good kisser?"

"No, he was terrible. He kept darting his tongue in and
out of my mouth like a serpent." She looks up at me and stares at my face
for a moment, then down to her hand, realizing that I'm holding it.

"Everything OK?" the other bartender has noticed
something is going on and is standing next to her looking concerned.

"Fine, Frankie," she says, pulling her hand away
from mine. "Thanks, though."

"Alright," he says, glancing at me. "Let me
know if you need anything," he adds before walking back down to his end of
the bar.