Vice (Tortured Heroes Book 1) (2 page)

“Christ. You disposing of dead bodies back here?”

“Only on Tuesdays,” she said.

“Good to know.”

I turned back toward her. She’d moved toward the service door but hadn’t turned her back on me. Smart girl.

“Come on,” she said. “Let me buy you a drink for your trouble.”

I put up a hand to decline. I damn near almost told her I was on duty. Old fucking habit. She was shrewd enough to notice the conflict in my eyes but I played it off. “No trouble. But I’ll take that drink. What’s good here?”

She held the door open and motioned for me to go in ahead of her. Still smart. Something told me if I hadn’t followed “Amos” out here, this chick probably could have handled herself just fine. But damned if I was gonna take that chance.

“Ah. I figured you were a newbie. You don’t look like the usual crowd.”

Damn. I’d have to do a better job blending in, it seemed. I smiled. “Left my knit beanie at home.”

This got a smartass laugh out of her that sent heat coursing through me. “Oh, I’m sure I could find you one.”

“Right. Bet you pass ’em out like paper crowns at Burger King.”

“Only if it’s your birthday,” she said, not missing a beat. We walked into the darkened bar together and she held a finger up to Kinney. He nodded, grabbed a frosted mug and started to fill it with whatever was on tap.

The corner seat was still empty and I took it. She ducked under the bar again and slapped a cocktail napkin in front of me. She leaned forward, resting on her elbows, and it took everything in me not to look at that glimpse of bra again. In that instant, I knew I wanted more than that though. In the thirty minutes I’d been here, I hadn’t seen her crack a genuine smile. Suddenly, it became important to me to change that.

“You know,” I said. “Instead of that drink, maybe you could help me out another way. I’m actually here to see about a job. Maybe you could put a good word in for me.”

She arched a brow and straightened her back. “A job?”

“Yeah. I’m supposed to see Devin Marsh. Is he here tonight? I heard through the grapevine he’s looking for a new bouncer.” I wagged my eyebrow at her and made a joke out of flexing a bicep for her. That kind of thing usually made girls blush. I realized I’d sure as hell like to make her blush.

Once again, though, I’d misread the room where she was concerned. She kept her arms crossed and that one dark brow arched to the sky. “You think you’re qualified to do that?”

My mouth dropped. “Well. Yeah.” I pointed back toward the service door. “Better than a resume, don’t you think?”

She chewed her bottom lip but didn’t answer. Then she leaned forward and wrapped her fingers around my right bicep. She cocked her head to the side and nodded. “Impressive. I suppose these are for more than just show, huh?”

“Well, I don’t like to brag.”

“Of course not, Tough Guy.”

“The name’s Randall. Jason Randall.” The fake last name was my second big lie of the evening. “Most people call me Jase. What do you say? You think you could see your way clear to helping me out with the boss man? Can you go tell Mr. Marsh I’m here?”

I can’t say I quite got my wish. Rather than a genuine smile, I got sort of a shit-eating grin. Even that got my blood pumping a little faster. She spread her hands and gripped the edge of the bar. Leaning even further forward, she crinkled that cute little nose and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. “See, I think the boss already knows.”

“Come again?”

She straightened and held out her hand to shake mine again. “I’m Devin Marsh.”

Shit. How the fuck did
that
piece of intel not make it my way? Not one fucking thing had gone the way it was supposed to tonight. The girl had me speechless. All I could do was take her hand in mine again. Just that slight contact had my nerve endings jumping.

“I’ve got good news and bad news.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’m hiring. You heard that part right.”

“Great!”

“Not so fast. I don’t need another bouncer. What I
need
is a dishwasher. You up for it, Tough Guy?”

I kept her hand in mine and locked eyes with her. Her cheeks colored just a little. “I’ll take what I can get.” I still didn’t get a smile, but the tiny pulse in the palm of her hand jumped. Then she slid her hand away.

“You might want to be careful what you wish for, Jase Randall. Things can get pretty intense around here. Not everyone can cut it.”

“I’ll let you know if I can’t handle it.”

“You’ve got that backward. I’ll let
you
know. And I haven’t offered you a job yet. Just an interview. But I should warn you. I have pretty tough standards.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

She turned and gave me a smile filled with light and sultry promise. So far, the evening was looking up.

D
evin

He didn’t tell me to fuck off, so that right there was promising. Only one slow blink from those deep set brown eyes under lashes so thick it looked like he wore eyeliner. I didn’t think he’d say yes. Hell, it would have made things easier if he hadn’t. A guy like him might think dishwashing was beneath him. I’m not going to lie, that was part of my angle. Let’s see how much of Jase Randall was ego, and how much was work ethic. Thing was, I really was short a dishwasher and he looked like he could handle the job.

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s talk in my office.” I turned back toward Kinney. He was chatting it up with Georgia, one of my best waitresses. He’d been trying to get in her pants for weeks. Normally I’d break it up, but Georgia had his number and could handle herself. She cocked her head to the side and brushed back a strand of her wiry red hair. Then she held the beverage gun in her hand and sprayed the front of his pants with water. It got a genuine laugh out of him and Kinney went back to serving drinks. I’d talk to Georgia later, but it looked like she had things under control.

“You got this handled?” I shouted to Kinney. He knew I wasn’t just talking about the bar. He chewed the inside of his cheek and gave me a slow nod. Yeah. We understood each other. He could find dates on his own time. Patrons and waitresses were off limits.

“I’ll be right back,” I said and ducked under the partition in the bar. Jason “Jase” Randall slid off the bar stool and rose to his full height. God. He really was massive. I can’t lie, having muscle like him working one of the doors might be good for business in more ways than one. He’d already proven he could handle himself with the likes of Amos. Plus, the girls and half the guys would love him. Tall. Broad. Buff. He wore a black tee shirt and jeans that stretched in all the right places. Those eyelashes, that dimple in his chin. Yeah. The patrons would love him. But first things first. I needed to know if he understood hard work.

Jase followed me into my office but hung back for a moment. His eyes darted to every corner of my 10 X 10 home away from home looking for some hidden danger. I wondered if he might be ex-military. He kind of held himself like it. It was subtle, but pure alpha male. Satisfied no boogie man was about to pop out at him, Jase took a seat in front of my desk and rested one foot on the opposite knee.

I resisted the urge to apologize for the mess. Oh, it was one. I know it. Stacks of paper piled in every corner. Boxes to the ceiling. But it was my mess and I knew where everything was when I needed it. The place still had purple paneling put there two owners ago when it was a tattoo parlor. Before that, a massage parlor, and a gym. But now, this place was all mine. Well, almost. As soon as I paid off the note to Uncle Cy, no one could ever take it away from me.

I took my time stepping around the desk then slowly sank into my leather chair, the one luxury office expense I made when I opened the place. You should never skimp on lumbar support. Jase was patient as I rifled through the papers on my desk until I found what I needed—an application form and a W-9. I slid them across the desk to him and tossed him a pen. He caught it neatly in one hand and clicked the spring. My eyes went to his hands. They were broad and solid with tapered nails, no dirt under them. Strong hands. The kind that could span your waist and hold you close.

I blinked hard and took a deep breath. Those weren’t the kind of thoughts I ever had time to indulge in. And I sure as hell couldn’t start eyeing him up or I’d be no better than Kinney. The pounding bass shook the walls as
The HolyRocks
launched into their last set. Shit. I needed to make this quick. Kinney’d be swamped at the bar in another ten minutes.

“Don’t suppose you stuffed a resume in your pocket.” I blushed the second I said it. For once, I wasn’t trying to be a smartass. I really wasn’t going for any kind of double entendre. Jase’s wide smile and twinkling eyes made heat zing straight through me. I kept my face even though; I needed a dishwasher, not another complication.

“Sorry,” he said, filling in the blanks on the forms I gave him. “New in town. I’ve worked construction most of my life. But my dad owned a bar for a while years ago. I know my way around a kitchen.”

“Where’re you from?”

Jase kept writing and didn’t look up. “Originally, little town near Toledo. But I’ve been all over. Wherever the work takes me.”

“You a felon, Jase Randall?”

He lifted a brow and froze for a second, but then he kept on writing. “No, ma’am.”

“Serial killer?”

“Nope.”

“What are you?”

He smiled and stopped writing. “Well, if I play my cards right, maybe I’m a dishwasher.”

“Look, I’m not going to lie. I’m short-staffed right now. Hell, I’m always short-staffed. I need someone who’s low maintenance, got a strong back, and good work ethic. And I’m not looking for another drifter.”

He reached into his back pocket and flipped his driver’s license across the desk. “Social Security number’s on the form. Make a copy of that. Check me out. You won’t find anything scary except my credit score. Let’s just say I’ve had shitty taste in women.”

I picked up his driver’s license and it took everything in me not to smile. His smoldering face stared back at me. God, this guy could even make the DMV look like an underwear model photo shoot. I’d be crazy not to get him behind the bar or out on the floor. But first things first. I didn’t suffer fools. Even just a few days in the kitchen would tell me everything I needed to know about this guy.

I was about to tell him just that when the door cracked open and Kinney stuck his head in. “Sorry, Dev, but we’re gonna need you back out here.”

I put up a hand. “I know. I know. The band’s just launched into their shitty Zeppelin cover. Tick tock.”

“Right.”

“Did Bella ever show up?” I gave Kinney a pointed stare. Bella was my second best waitress after Georgia. She was supposed to clock in over an hour ago. Kinney’d made some lame excuse for her but I knew it was bullshit. His eyes shifted to the left so I knew the next thing out of his mouth was going to be a lie.

“She’s on her way. Pile-up on the Lodge.”

“Everyone else managed to get here on time, Anthony.” He hated when I used his first name.

“I know, I know.”

“If you see Bella, you tell her from me she’s on my last nerve. Three days ago she’s asking me for help with her rent. Then she blows off the busiest night of the week. Georgia’s probably made two hundred just in tips. This isn’t Social Services.”

Kinney nodded his head and shot a glance toward Jase. He had the decency to keep his head down and stay out of it. He might fit in just fine after all. I wasn’t trying to be a hardass, but I couldn’t let Kinney or any of the others think I was their friend. They’d rob me blind if I did. Not with their hands in the till, but by taking advantage. Though I always had to watch out for hands in the till. Uncle Cy taught me that.

“Well, okay. I’ll tell Georgia to hang tight, you’ll be out when you’re out.”

I nodded and turned back to Jase as Kinney shut the door.

“You run a tight ship,” he said. I couldn’t tell if it was a statement or a question.

“I run a business. Not a frat house.”

“Well, I can respect that. I’m not interested in any drama either. I want good, clean, honest work.”

“Music to my ears. How soon can you start?”

Jase smiled. “Well, from the sound of that baseline, I’d say the levee’s about to break any second. You need me now?”

“God, I so hate Zeppelin.”

Jase nodded and leaned back in his chair having finished the application. He made a move to hand it to me but brushed against a picture frame I had at the edge of the desk. It slid off the side. Jase caught it, quick as a cat, before it hit the floor.

“Niagara Falls?” he asked as he turned the photo over and looked at it.

I gave him a slow nod and a weak smile as I reached for the picture.

“Your sister? She looks just like you.”

I kept that smile plastered on my face as I lay the frame face down on the desk. It was taken ten years ago when I was fifteen and my sister Mandy was twenty-one. She’d saved up waitressing tips to buy train tickets to the Falls and surprised me for my birthday. It was the only vacation we’d ever taken together and the year after our dad died. Mandy was good back then. She’d been clean for almost a year. We made plans to open a bar like this on that very trip while getting soaked on the
Maid of the Mist
. A few months after that, she hooked up with another loser boyfriend and disappeared for a while. A pattern she repeated a half dozen more times before I left for college and up until the last one. Just a few more weeks until the 4
^th
of July and it would be a full year since I’d seen her.

“Yeah, my sister.”

“Something wrong,” Jase said. “You just kind of
went
there for a second.”

“What? Oh. No. Just running through everything I need to finish up tonight. Sorry to cut this short.”

“No problem. So, are you looking at your new dishwasher?”

I reached across the desk and shook his hand again. “Probationary. You okay with that? I need to check your references. Floyd runs the kitchen and I trust his judgment. You get on with him, you’ll have no trouble from me.”

“Floyd?”

“You can’t miss him. Big guy. Built like a grizzly. Red crew cut and a handlebar mustache. Big swirly tattoo on his forearm that says, ‘Only God Can Judge Me.’”

Jase smiled. “You fucking serious?”

“As a heart attack. Try not to laugh. He gets angry when people laugh. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

I stepped around the desk and Jase rose to his feet. He seemed big as a mountain as I stood close to him. I looked up and gave him a half-smile then led him down the hall toward the kitchen. Heat blasted me in the face when I opened the door.

“They’re messing with my shit tonight, Dev!” Floyd’s voice boomed across the room and he slammed the fryer basket into the sizzling water.

“Sorry, Floyd. Georgia’s running herself ragged. Bella’s a no-show. But cheer up, Buttercup. I brought you some help.”

Floyd looked up. He had a cigarette tucked behind his left ear. He didn’t smoke. Not for over a decade but he kept it there as a reminder.

“You gonna do something about Bella?” Floyd gave me a pointed stare as he jostled the fryer cage. Floyd Bowles was maybe the best judge of character I knew. He was a tough son of a bitch, but if you did your work, he’d cut off his damn arm for you. Clichéd tattoo and all. He ran the waitresses through their paces but I couldn’t run this place without him. He was an old friend of my dad’s and promised him on his deathbed he’d look out for me and Mandy. Now I couldn’t imagine trying to run this place without him. Floyd also had the biggest heart of anyone I knew. He was pissed at Bella like I was, but he was also worried about her.

“She’s a grown-up, Floyd. I can’t keep looking the other way. And Georgia can’t keep picking up her slack. Anyway though, this is Jase,” I said pressing my palm against Jase’s rock-hard chest. His pulse thundered under my fingertips. I looked to make sure Floyd had the back door open to let some fresh air in.

Jase squared his shoulders and stepped around me. He went almost toe to toe with Floyd and shook his hand. Floyd’s jaw hung to the side and his eyes flicked from me to Jase and back again. Jase wasted no time waiting for a reaction. He just stepped around Floyd and headed down the line toward the industrial dishwasher. Plates and glasses had piled up into the baskets. He shoved the handle on the dishwasher door up and slid one of the baskets inside of it. He slammed the door down hard in one swift motion to start the wash cycle. Then he pulled a heaping bag of trash out of the nearest can and headed back for the door. I hadn’t given him the grand tour, but he’d worked out that was the other exit toward the alley. He shot me a devastating wink and hoisted the trash bag over his shoulder as he headed out the door.

“I like him,” Floyd shouted as he jostled the fryer cage again.

I put my hands on my hips and waited. It looked like Jase and Floyd had things well in hand back here, but I found I liked watching Jase work. He made hauling trash look sexy and that’s not something you see every day.

A few seconds passed. Then a few more. Floyd let out a whistle. “Maybe I spoke too soon. You think your man got lost?”

“He’s not my man, Floyd. And maybe.”

I patted Floyd on the shoulder as he shouted for Georgia. He plated her burger and fries and pounded the counter top, as if his booming voice wasn’t enough to get her attention. Shrugging, I headed out after Jase. Swinging the door open, I thought of the perfect snide remark. It stuck in my throat when my eyes adjusted to the alley darkness.

Jase squatted next to the dumpster holding Bella as she lay sprawled across his lap. Her skin was ashen and her blonde hair hung in strings around her face. My heart shot straight to my throat. Goddammit.

A commotion behind me. Floyd called out for Kinney. A body shoved past me. Kinney took the stairs two at a time and got to Bella’s side. He started to rub her legs and plead with her. “Wake up. Sugar? Aw, shit. Don’t do this.”

Jase looked over Kinney’s head and locked eyes with me. “What’s she on?” he said, his lips forming a bloodless line. When Kinney didn’t answer, Jase reached over and shook him hard with one hand on his shoulder.

“Pull it together, man,” he said. “What’d she take?”

I was down the stairs by then. I crouched next to Jase and put a hand on Bella’s neck. She was breathing, thank God. She had a pulse. That’s when I saw the fresh tracks on her arm. My eyes met Jase’s and he shook his head.

“She needs an ambulance,” I said to Kinney. His eyes got wide and looked toward the sky.

“Dev, please don’t. She’ll be all right. We just need to get her inside and splash some cold water on her face.”

Jase looked about to explode. A muscle jumped in his jaw and he shook Kinney again. “This girl needs more than a splash of cold water, man. Her pulse is through the roof. I asked you, what the fuck did she take?”