Page 10 of Moon's Promise

“Shut up. Either I follow you, or I call Viper and let him watch you walk back to the club, drunk off your ass.”

Moon walked toward the door with lagging footsteps. “He won’t care. Viper knows I’m like a cat—I always land on my feet.”

Mick came out from behind the counter, shrugging into his leather jacket. “I wouldn’t tempt fate, if I were you. Sooner or later, everyone’s luck runs out.”

Moon stepped out into the cold air, waiting as Mick locked the door. “Neither fate nor luck are responsible for me being alive.” Moon gave him a half-wave then stepped away and started walking.

Mick took a step to the side of the bar then paused, turning his head. “What is it, then?”

“The devil protects his own.”

Hunching his shoulders, Moon lowered his head so the bitter wind wouldn’t hit him directly in his face. He reached into his pocket, took out his gloves, and slid them on as the limbs on the bare trees moved back and forth. His boots crunched on the snow-covered ground as he kept to the side of the road, seeing Mick’s lights coming up behind him.

He wished Mick would go on without worrying about him. He actually enjoyed the dark quiet of the night. He preferred the night over daylight. Perhaps that was why he hadn’t found a woman to settle down with. At night, women fought over who he would share his bed with. During the bright light of day, they ignored him until night rolled around again. They thought he was their plaything. He was sick of it. He wasn’t anyone’s plaything. The next time a woman used him as a yoyo, they would find out their plaything bites.

CHAPTER THREE

Larissa watched as her two sisters disappeared into what she assumed was a restroom. Thank goodness it was Priscilla’s turn. She had never been good at dealing with someone with a sick stomach.

Rising, she went to stand by the restroom door in the hall just in case they needed her.

“Lana okay?” Winter asked from the chair she was sitting in.

“I think so,” Larissa answered.

Standing, Winter walked over to tap on the door. “Can I get you anything?” she called out.

“No. We’ll be out in a minute,” they heard Lana reply over the sound of wrenching from the other side of the door.

Both she and Winter made sympathetic faces at hearing how sick Lana was.

“Damn. I hate being sick to my stomach.”

Larissa grimaced in agreement. “Me, too. Priscilla has a stronger stomach than me. If I were in there, I would be barfing up next to her.”

As she talked, Larissa felt the cold air come in from the door but didn’t turn because she could hear Lana start to cry.

“I’m so embarrassed.”

“It’s okay.” Larissa pressed her face to the door so Lana could hear. “No one is listening.”

Focusing on her sister, she didn’t turn around to check who had come through the door. When no one walked around her, she just assumed one of the women had decided to leave.

Winter pressed her face to the door, too. “That’s true, Lana. Most of them are in the same shape you’re in. T.A. had to go to the other restroom downstairs.”

At the sounds coming from inside the restroom, Larissa didn’t think Lana was paying attention to them.

As she straightened from the door, an uncomfortable feeling struck her. Trying to ignore the pressing need in her bladder, she bit her lip, wishing Lana would hurry up while she looked around to see if she could spot T.A.

With the need becoming more urgent, she glanced at the door. “How are you doing?”

“She’s still heaving,” Priscilla answered for Lana.

Winter stared at her. “Are you getting sick, too?”

“No. I just need to use the restroom. I’ve been drinking water all night.”

“Oh …” Winter’s eyes turned to the group of women, and Larissa guessed she was searching for T.A. to see if she was back, also.

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