Into the Storm (Signal Bend #3)(23)
At first Badger looked confused, but then he grinned and pulled a full strip of condoms out of his jeans pocket. Show laughed.
“Okay, Boy Scout. You’re prepared. Good for you. Use ‘em.” He turned to Dom. “Jack. The bottle and a glass.” Then he went to the end of the bar and took a seat.
For the first hour or so, he had a decent time, sitting at the bar with his friend, Jack Daniels. He enjoyed watching Badge take every dare his new brothers could think of, and drink every drink that was put in his hand, with a huge smile on his face, a girl hooked under each arm. The kid looked like he was about to explode from happiness. Or alcohol. At about the same time he had that thought, he saw Isaac pull Len aside. Time to make the kid puke so he could keep going. Len, his sponsor, got that honor, and he grabbed Badge by his freshly-patched kutte and dragged him to the john.
The party wasn’t diminished by the temporary absence of its guest of honor. The place was hopping in a way it hadn’t been in a long time. There was a new vibe in Signal Bend. Hope. They’d been through it, and they’d come out the other side. With the repairs and renovations they’d done after the “shootout” with the Northside Knights, Main Street looked better than it had in decades. The publicity from that awful day, and Lilli’s B&B, were bringing people in. They might get a grocery in town for the first time in close to ten years. Reverend Mortensen was trying to get town support for reopening the library—a lot of the books it had had in circulation were still boxed up in the basement; they just needed people to staff it and the overhead to keep the lights on and the roof tight. Mac Evans had told Show that he’d recently shown two separate couples properties in the area that for the last five years had been left to rot by the banks that had foreclosed on them. Signal Bend was coming back. Now Show needed to find his way back, too. If he could.
Len and Badge were still back in the john, and Show was deep in thought, staring across the Hall without really looking, ignoring the glass of Jack in front of him, when the Shannon came through the front door. His eyes facing that general direction, he saw her come in. He hadn’t thought about it, but it didn’t surprise him that she’d be here. Badge liked her a lot. A lot. He’d have invited her. She was a f*cking vision, wearing a snug but not overly short dark skirt, a likewise snug, low-cut top that shimmered in some way he didn’t understand, and sexy, high shoes. All curves and cleavage, she was going to find herself in trouble around this group. Even though they knew her and her connection to Lilli and therefore Isaac, as drunk as they were, and her here, unattached, and looking like that, she was in trouble.
Unless that was what she wanted. Looking at her now, Show considered the possibility that she’d come here to be club *. It pissed him off. Mightily. She wasn’t that kind of woman.
Or was she? Maybe she was. What the f*ck did he know?
But it didn’t add up, her being here to tear through the Horde. She’d been low all week. He’d had cause to be at the B&B almost daily during the past week, working with Badger on getting the feed right for the three orphaned kids he was adding to the goat herd, and he’d seen her dragging her ass around like her best dog had died. Badger, half in love with her, had mentioned it every day, worrying. He’d gotten Show worried, thinking about that slick bastard she’d had with her last weekend. All weekend. The way he’d grabbed her ass as they’d walked out of the bar on Friday night. The way she’d flinched away.
Had he hurt her? Is that why the long puss all week? Was this trashy getup she was wearing tonight about that somehow?
And why the f*ck did he give a rat’s ass? She wasn’t even a friend. But he did. He’d been intensely and inexplicably jealous when he saw her with Joe City at Tuck’s, and he’d been inexplicably furious when they’d left. Then he’d been worried that the * had done something to make her sad all week.
In all the time he’d known her, he’d had exactly one exchange with her that could possibly be called a real conversation. How she’d gotten in his head the way she had, he did not know.
But right now, he was pissed and jealous at the way Vic and Havoc were eyeing her. Like f*cking cartoon wolves. Seeing Havoc heading her way, Show got up from the bar, realizing then that he was drunker than he’d thought, and crossed the Hall to her, where she was now standing near the Galaga arcade game.
She saw him come and turned to face him, her eyes wide. He grabbed her arm.
“You are gonna get yourself in water you can’t swim out of, dressed like that here.”
She pulled her arm out of his grasp. “Dressed like what?”
“Like you’re here to work.”
Her face froze for a second in a state of perfect shock, and then it hardened into anger. “God! Go to hell, *.” She pushed hard at his chest. He didn’t move. She went around him and stormed off, deeper into the room. He watched her, saw her find Badger, and then he turned and went back to the bar. He grabbed the bottle of Jack and headed outside. It was cold out there, but he needed the fresh air.
He’d been out there fifteen minutes, brooding about his vexatious inability to stop thinking about this woman he barely knew, when the door opened and released the din of the party into the autumn air. He didn’t turn around; he figured it was somebody coming or going, and he didn’t give a f*ck. He’d drained the Jack, but he wasn’t ready to go back in, so he sat there on top of the round, redwood picnic table, smoking and scowling into the night.