Page 73 of Wild Card
Can we grab a drink? You can yell at me.
With a sigh of defeat, I added one more message to the list.
Dalton:
I have an update about the animal shelter issue. Call me, okay?
I waited a couple of minutes, hoping he might respond this time. My phone might as well have been a paperweight for all the good it did.
With a quiet curse, I tossed it onto the passenger seat and buckled my seat belt. I had a job to do, and for right now at least, it didn’t include worrying about Axel fucking Wilder.
CHAPTER 19
Axel
I rappedthe bar next to my shot glass. “Hit me.”
Leo hitched one eyebrow but didn’t comment. It was my third night at Ball Breakers, and he most likely knew there was no deterring me.
He picked up the tequila bottle and poured. Beautiful, golden liquid spilled into my shot glass.
I tipped it into my mouth. If the liquor burned going down, I didn’t notice it. I was four shots in and almost numb enough to forget the look in Dalton’s eyes when he bailed on me.
He’d texted to apologize. That was such a Dalton move. I was sure he even meant it. But his apology didn’t take back the truth in his words. I wasn’t worth the trouble I’d cost him, and we both knew it.
“Axel, where have you been, man?” Jett slapped my back hard enough to make me wince. “This place has been boring without you.”
I turned, hitching on a grin. “Just dealing with bullshit. You know how that is.”
“Yup.” Jett leaned his forearms on the bar, dipping his head toward mine. “Last game ended early. Got a lot of players looking for another round. What do you think?”
“That’s fast.”
“I know, but if they’re so eager to give us their money…” He shrugged. “What can you do?”
I laughed. “Hard to argue with that.”
He grinned sharply. “You find the venue. I’ll take care of the booze again.”
I rolled my eyes. Jett always made me get the venue because he knew the junkyard would serve if I couldn’t find one. I’d held a few poker nights out there when we first started doing this—before Dalton started asking questions about rumors he’d heard—and it was an ideal location. But running illegal gambling on my own property was just asking for trouble.
Jett’s gaze shifted over my shoulder. “Okay, business done. Now on to pleasure. Keep it loose, Ax.”
He was eyeing up a redhead in short ratty shorts, a tube top that barely contained her breasts, and fuck-me red lipstick that highlighted a wide, flirty smile. Not my type, but definitely right up Jett’s alley.
I turned back to Leo and tapped the bar. “Another.”
Leo gave me a long, measuring look. No doubt he was gauging the money I was pissing away versus how much damage I’d do if I got totally trashed. I’d started more than one bar fight here, though he hadn’t banned me yet.
Money must have won out. Leo poured another shot. This time, he grabbed a beer from the cooler and set it beside my glass.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a chaser. You drink it after a shot. Try it out.”
“Funny.” I reached for the shot but paused as an idea occurred to me. “Hey, Leo. You like making money?—”
“No.”
