Page 40 of The Players

Her eyes narrowed. “I doubt it.”

“Never doubt me. I always deliver.” He ignored her derisive huff and took a look at the waffle. Then he looked at her.

“It’s not poisoned. I’d never shame the memory of mynonna.” She sounded actually hurt.

“Yournonna?”

She filled him a plate of scrambled eggs, pancakes, and French toast, then sat across him. “My dad’s mom. She taught me how to cook. Every time something was up—and with our lives, it was always something—we went into the kitchen. Some nights, it was the news of another hit; others, it was something worse. I guess my grandfather did his best to shield us as much as he could, but that wasn’t always possible. More than once, someone from the family came home battered and bruised, and my grandmother had to patch them up.”

He took a bite from the waffle. Damn, it was delicious. “So that’s where you got your nurse skills from.”

“She never taught me how to stand up for myself though. Not that I can blame her.Nonnawas old school. Brought up in a world where a woman always stood by her man, no matter how dire the circumstances.” She looked him straight in the eye. “But, it’s not the fifties anymore. I don’t like being powerless.”

He shrugged. “If you’re referring to the spanking, you deserved that, doll. Truth be told, I think Vince went easy on ya ass.”

She cocked her brow. “Actually, I wasn’t referring to that, though that wasn’t exactly pleasant. I meant that I didn’t like it when Keegan’s guy almost grabbed me. I only got away because of my pepper spray. I want to learn how to defend myself if I’m out of spray. Will you teach me?”

As he ate, he pretended to think about it, hard. “I don’t know. Are you going to use what I teach you to kick my ass?”

“I will most definitely use it to kick your butt.”

“Then I’m looking forward to it.” That earned him a smile. “What are those?” He nodded at the plate that had come fresh out of the oven.

“Oh, those are biscuits.”

He handed her his empty plate. “I’m not much of a breakfast person, but I’ll have some of those. And while you’re at it…” He eagerly waited while she re-filled his plate.

When Vince joined them a few minutes later, he noticed he didn’t get a plate. Or coffee.

When his friend eyed his plate, he growled, “Get your own.”

Vince cocked a brow. “And here I thought you liked sharing?”

“Ha. Ha.”

The clattering sound of Carmen dropping a bowl drew their attention to her.

“Crap.” She ducked to grab the bowl and her cami top crept higher, revealing creamy skin with red-and-white welts.

Vince froze, then cursed.

Before Sy could tell him not to make a big deal out of it, Vince stomped over to her. His hand went up to Carmen’s shoulder, but she backed away.

When she turned around and saw him staring at her, the atmosphere in the kitchen took a nosedive.

“Carmen…”

The anguish in Vince’s voice couldn’t be missed. Sy internally shook his head. He dropped his bagel and took a gulp of his hot coffee.

“Don’t.” Carmen’s voice was like a whip.

“Don’t?” Vince looked ready to explode. “You expect me to just let this go?”

Sy could have told him that was exactly what she expected. No one liked to be looked at with pity. Or with rage, the way Vince was right then. He could see Carmen shrink into herself, feeling small. Then her eyes flashed. Oh, hell. This wasn’t going to end well.

“Please, go away.”

Vince took a deep breath as he brushed his face with his hands, looking crushed and torn at the same time. Without saying another word, he walked away.

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