Page 4 of Texas Hold Em'
“What a shit bucket,” I grumbled as I checked the mirrors. The car spat dark gray smoke out behind me.
While I drove into town, I considered what Jameson and the others would discuss today.
They should have included me in their plans.
I hated being sidelined like this. Without me, Mason would be dead. Admittedly, without Mason, I would also be dead.
I shuddered as I remembered the way Bates had turned his single blue eye on me when I intervened at Mason’s house. Moss was kicking the shit out of him and I knew Mason wouldn’t be able to take much more, so I tried to buy him some recovery time by stalling. Weknew Jackson and the others were on their way and I figured Mason would survive if I kept Bates appropriately distracted.
Turns out I’d woefully underestimated the depth of Bates’s cruelty.
I remembered the vise-like grip he had on my wrist when he dragged me toward him and held the burning end of his cigar over the inside of my wrist. I could feel the heat of the ember as he smiled at me.
If Mason hadn’t intervened, I’d have a permanent circular scar on my skin.
I scratched at the inside of my wrist at the thought.
Some way or another, I would have to get Jackson and the others to trust me enough to let me in on their conversations about Bates. I was a resource for them to use, not a pretty face to be left out of the game.
What did they think of me?
Did they think I was weak? That I couldn’t handle myself? Did they crack jokes about my Ranger uniform behind my back? Did they think I was nothing more than a do-gooder?
I cringed at my own insecurity rearing its ugly head.
Why should I care what they thought of me? They were the criminals. They were the ones who got in over their heads and dragged me down with them.
Sort of.
I might have thrown myself onto the burn pile despite being warned to stay away from the Devil’s Luck. Repeatedly. By literally everyone.
Before long, Reno opened up before me. A few turns led me to a small bakery with windows full of hand-drawn pictures with window markers of animated bagels dancing together. The shop wasn’t busy. There were only two other people in line ahead of me. Both were middle-aged women wearing cardigans and yellow-gold wedding rings.
I studied the bagel options in the display case while the women waited for the employee to get their orders together.
“It was Ledger’s house, you know,” the woman in the yellowcardigan said. “My husband has been telling me that something bad was bound to happen with those Devils sooner or later. I guess I never expected it to be a shootout with the police in such a safe neighborhood.”
“Something has to change,” the woman in the coral cardigan said. She shook her head and clicked her tongue. “They’re giving Reno a bad name. We’ve come a long way. Now every other day there’s a headline about a shooting.”
“Or those hooligans are riding by on their monstrosities,” yellow cardigan said bitterly. “They’ve been disturbing the peace too long.”
Hooligans, I mused. I doubted these women would use such a casual word if they understood the true scope of what Jackson and his boys were up against.
The women took their bags of bagels and made room for me to step up to the counter. I ordered half a dozen and had no intention of sharing them with Jameson after his attitude this morning. They’d be my breakfast today and the next five days. He could settle for his plain old oatmeal.
I ordered a plain black coffee too and sipped it the whole drive home while the bagels in the passenger seat filled the Chevelle with the scent of salty goodness. As soon as I got back to the apartment, I put one in the toaster, smothered it with butter, and devoured it. I licked my fingers clean before tidying up after myself and doing what I promised myself I wouldn’t do.
I snooped through Jameson’s stuff.
He made me curious, and besides, shouldn’t I know as much as possible about the criminal whose bed I was sleeping in?
Easy answer. Yes, I should.
So I sifted through drawers, explored closets, and opened bathroom cabinets.
I found nothing of interest. Jameson was a normal dude with abnormal pastimes. That was all.
But one way or another, I was going to have to find a way to get close to him. Jackson wanted to keep me at arm’s length, but I neededa way into the fold, and since Jameson was the one I was closest to? Well, he’d be the pin I had to knock over.
