Page 84 of Givin' Me Fitz!
No, I wouldn’t start it.
Correction—I wouldn’t start it unless they came after the people I loved.
“Do you have a gun?” Jim Middleton was holding my arm as we walked through the casino, him using his mobility cane to keep people from walking into him.
I chuckled. “Why do you think I’d have a gun, Jim?”
“Because if I was coming into this situation and could see, I’d have a gun. Give it to me. I can hide it. I’m a blind man. They’ll never search me.”
“How do you know?” I felt stupid asking, but he seemed to have a pretty strong opinion on the matter.
Jim chuckled as Fitz and Jagger walked ahead of us. “Because people are embarrassed when they come across someone suffering from a physical limitation that they don’t share. It’s sort of like survivor’s guilt. Nobody can play the disabled better than me.”
I took a deep breath and stopped Jim and me at a slot machine, putting my gun into his hand. He slid it into the pocket of his jacket. The grin on his face made me laugh.
“You’re killin’ me with your daredevil instincts, Jim, but I’m glad we’re friends. Come on. Let’s go into the theater.”
The fight was going to take place in the King’s Theater, a showroom at the Ace of Spades Casino. Old-school singers and magicians were usually showcased, but when we walked in, there was no singing or magic. They’d set up an octagon cage, and the people in the crowd were there to see the carnage.
Fitz took out his bounty hunter badge, his wallet, and a hand full of change, placing the items in the bowl the guard was holding. He walked through without a problem, and the guard handed him the bowl. Jagger did the same.
When it was my turn, the metal detector buzzed loudly. The security guy stopped me. “Sir, could you step out and come back through? Check your pockets.”
My leather bracelet had a snap I’d forgotten about. I took it off, dropping it and my wallet into the resin bowl the guard offered. I stepped through the machine again, which didn’t alert, thankfully.
“Next,” the guy instructed.
Jim stepped through the machine as the alarms went off while I collected my wallet and bracelet. The guard stopped him. “Sir, what set off the alarm?”
I turned around to see Jim standing outside of the metal detector with his mobility cane in front of him. “I have titanium in my knee and hip, steel in my wrist, and shrapnel from the war in my head. You tell me, sir. Which part of me is setting off your alarms.”
I stood on the other side of the security fence, watching the guard as he patted Jim’s shoulders before he moved to his torso. “Ow! Please. I’m just an old man. I have aches and pains that you won’t understand until you’re my age. Can you be gentle?”
The guard pulled his hands away as if he’d been shocked. “I’m sorry. You’re free to go.”
I stepped closer to Jim and took his hand. I glanced at the guard and nodded. “Thank you.”
We walked to our row behind Fitz and Jagger, who went into our row first. “What was the problem?”
“Jim has metal inside him that set off the alarm.” I wasn’t sure if any of what Jim had told the guard was true, but I was grateful to him for being so damn quick on his feet.
We took our seats, me next to Fitz and Jim next to me. I put my arm around Fitz’s chair and kissed his temple. Jim nudged me and patted his coat pocket to remind me the gun was still there. The man was pretty sly.
I slowly took in the people sitting in the theater. I didn’t recognize anyone until I saw my father sitting with Ricky Marlow and a group of Scorpions who were bold enough to wear their cuts in the casino. Arrogant assholes.
My gaze stayed on my father, who laughed as Ricky handed him a beer that a young man in a prospect cut had just dropped off.
I leaned closer to whisper in Fitz’s ear. “My father is here.” I motioned my head across the theater to where Keller and Ricky were sitting in the front row.
“They look pretty cozy. How long do you think he’s been friendly with the club?”
That was a great question. My father had said he’d worked with the Scorpions when they were holding me, but there was no way he could have known that Dallas St. Michael and Jesse Sparks were working behind the scenes and I was acting as a decoy. I hadn’t told anyone about the plan for that day except Derson and Hobie. I did tell my parents after the fact, but not before.
There was a scuffle behind us, so I glanced over my shoulder to see the members of the Cowboys—Spider, Ders, Hobie, Arlo, Mina and Miri Rey, Tiny, and Hammer. Gilly and Mouse were in the row behind them, along with the folks who worked at the Cowpokes houses.
“I’ll be right back.” I got up from my seat and skirted around Jim. “I’ll be back. Fitz is to your left if you need anything.” Jim nodded.
I stepped up to Spider’s seat and pecked him on the shoulder. “Where’s T-Roy?”
