Baddest Bad Boys(33)

“I’d figured that much out all by myself,” Jon said.

“You,” Danny snarled. “Keep your goddamn mouth shut.”

“And while I’m at it, I might as well let you know it all,” she went on. “I’m quitting Crowne Royale Group. I’m not going for a degree in hotel management. I’ve been accepted into the training program of the Circo della Luna Rossa. I’m leaving in three weeks. So now you know.”

Danny made a disgusted sound. “Robin, we’ve been through this before. Now is not the time to argue about your ridiculous—”

“I’m not arguing,” she cut in. “I’m informing you. And now, if you two would excuse me, I’ve had enough of both of you.”

She marched out of the room and started yanking on her clothes.

So. She’d done it. Abandoned her livelihood, alienated her brothers, lost her virginity, smashed her heart into tiny grotty bits, all in one blow. There wasn’t much of anything left in her life to demolish.

Jon and Danny avoided each other’s eyes for the forty-five seconds it took for Robin to wrench on her jeans and a T-shirt and sling her bag over her shoulder. She looked at Jon as she stalked to the door.

“I guess this is goodbye. Have a nice life, Jon. It was real.”

Danny scowled, bewildered. “What the hell?”

“I don’t have any designs on him, Danny,” she said. “I was just using him for sex. Girls have animal needs too. Deal with it.”

Silence followed the slam of the screen door shutting after her. Robin’s car coughed, protested, and finally started up and pulled away.

Danny cleared his throat. “Get your clothes on and your shit out of my place,” he said. “I do not want to see your face ever again.”

Jon turned away without speaking and did as he was told.

He felt oddly numb as he got his stuff together. Hell, he was used to worse case scenarios. He’d grown up right in the middle of one.

And that didn’t make it any easier to bear.

Julia peered through the infrared goggles as she coasted slowly down the switchbacks. As soon as she got off Horsetail Bluff, she could drop behind a curve and turn her headlights back on.

Robin signaled at the convenience store and Julia’s whole body tingled. Maybe her chance would come sooner than she’d dreamed. She pulled into the parking lot to the side, waited as Robin got out, got gas.

Robin reparked the car outside the store, and went inside. Yes. She’d locked it this time.

She had to be quick and decisive. There were people around, but it had been Julia’s experience that a pretty woman acting with confidence could get away with just about anything. William had used that trick often. Julia had been the perfect lure. Many times.

She strode over to the passenger’s side of Robin’s car and pretended to use a key while she yanked the filament that opened the lock. She slid inside, popped the hood. Once she’d ascertained that Robin was still in the bathroom, she lifted the hood, let the clippers slide out into her hand, reached in and severed the battery connection. Snip. She let the hood fall, and headed in to buy coffee. No one had blinked an eye.

Julia feigned drinking the nasty brew, using peripheral vision to observe Robin as she emerged from the bathroom. The girl hurried out to her car, eyes puffy. The car, of course, would not start.

Julia drifted to the window, watching obliquely as the girl cursed, yelled, pounded the steering wheel, and finally burst into tears.

Robin got out of the car and poked around under the hood, but she didn’t notice the severed battery line hidden under the manifest.

Robin finally came back into the store. “Excuse me,” she asked the tight-lipped lady behind the register whose nametag read Ruby. “Do you know of a mechanic around here that I could call at this hour?”

Ruby glanced at the clock, and looked dubious. “I don’t know. There’s Robbie, I guess, but he’s usually drunk by now.”

“Who’s Robbie?” Robin pleaded. “Where could I find him?”

“You could go ask Earl. He runs the bar next door,” Ruby said. “Robbie’s his half brother. If Robbie’s there, you can see for yourself if he’s too drunk to be any use. Other than that, hon, I don’t know.”

“Thanks.” Robin walked out, and stared forlornly at her car.

Julia followed the girl out. “Car trouble?” she asked gently.

Robin laughed, a bitter sound. “Hah. Life trouble, more like.”

“Do you need a phone? Could I call someone for you?”

“No, thanks,” Robin said. “I’ve got a phone. I could call my brother, but at the moment I think I’d rather stick needles in my eyes.”

“Ouch,” said Julia. “So you’re heading to that bar? Excuse me for butting in, but the place looks rough. You want some company?”

Robin seemed to actually see her for the first time. “Uh, thanks. That’s kind of you, but I don’t want to trouble you. I’ll be fine.”

“Oh, no trouble at all. I insist. My name’s Kelly. And yours?”

Julia fell into step beside her, and produced some soothing chitchat. By the time they reached the bar, she’d developed a perfect plan.

7
When Robin’s eyes adjusted to the dimness, she was grateful that Kelly had insisted on accompanying her. It was a nice thing to do. In fact, the girl seemed almost too nice. Her niceness was so focused. Something she did, rather than something that she was. If she flipped a switch, that niceness could flip off like a light. Or maybe Robin was reading negativity into a helpful, pleasant girl. Pulling a Jon, in short.