Page 59 of Hard Luck (Blackstone House)

Maybe once this shitshow was over, I’d hit up Brax for a membership at his sex club. There were rules at Nyx. Boundaries. I could walk away, and nobody would followme. Except the thought of sleeping with another man turned my stomach.

Shouldn’t have eaten those damn fries.

My phone buzzed again.

Tulsa

Almost there. What happened?

Dice

Need a hug?

I wasn’t about to lay out the details in the group chat. Instead, I shoved the phone in my pocket and snatched at the toilet roll again. Which kept unrolling and unrolling, so I grabbed at it— Then froze.

The bathrooms in the Sunrise Diner were at the rear. Two doors. A wide door for the handicap-accessible bathroom, which also contained a baby-changing table, and a narrow door that led into a small vestibule. From the vestibule, two more doors led to the men’s and ladies’ bathrooms, except there were no words, just a picture of an egg and a picture of a sausage. At some point in the past six months, a man—it could only have been a man—had added another inch to the sausage with a Sharpie.

Thecreaktold me the outer door had just opened.

I held my breath.

The door to the ladies’ room swung into the wall with acrack. If that was Dice…

I yanked the stall door open, ready to give her an earful for leaving Cole unattended, because she should know better.

She did know better.

T-Rex shoved me backward, turning me as he went so my back slammed against the side of the stall. His hand wrapped around my throat, but not in a good way.

“I have a message for your boyfriend.”

I kneed him in the groin, and he doubled over, wheezing. Then I booted him in the face. Pain shot up my leg, but the cast did an excellent job of breaking his nose, and as he crumpled, I got in a blow to his jaw. He slumped at my feet, groaning.

“Can’t you see I’m having a crisis here?” I kicked him again. “Learn to read the fucking room.”

Asshole.

The outer door opened again, followed a second later by the door to the ladies’ room. Fantastic. The last thing I needed was a traumatised diner, so I tried to shove the stall door closed, but T-Rex’s tiny arm was in the way. Maybe I broke a bone.

“Babe? Why are you crying?” Tulsa put her hands on her hips. “Did he hurt you?” Before I could explain, she kicked him with a pointy-toed cowboy boot. “You asshole.”

“It wasn’t him. Well, he tried, so if you want to kick him again, go ahead, but this”—I pointed at my face—“was something else.”

“Men suck. What are we doing with this dude? Nice touch with the tissue on the floor. The blood would be running everywhere otherwise.”

“I have questions for him.”

“So we put him in the holding cell?” Tulsa glanced at the door. “Wait a second.”

She grabbed the yellow CLEANING IN PROGRESS - PLEASE USE HANDICAP BATHROOM sign and placed it outside. The holding cell in the basement at the Cathouse was the best place to take T-Rex, but getting him there would be a challenge. The diner was half full, and those folks weren’t going anywhere voluntarily until they finished their meal. Which I honestly couldn’t condemn them for. The fire alarm was connected to the fire department, and Sin wouldn’t thank us if we staged a health inspection.

“Fake ambulance?” I suggested.

Tulsa nodded. “Fake ambulance.”

“At least you didn’t kill anyone this time,” was Valeria’s parting shot.

“At least you didn’t poison anyone’s pet this time.”

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