Chapter Three: Caught Out
Ink
“I met this feisty little thing at the casino last night. She got all mad about me picking up some chips for her. Super weird. She was a hottie though,” I griped to Coyote. “Second night on the job too.”
We were at Wheelz having a couple of drinks. Charlie had taken over some of the shifts behind the bar since we’d scored the permanent security gig at Red Stone and he did a pretty good job. He had the cocktails down pat and the customers liked him.
“Hmm. What’s her name?” Coyote held a beer and swiveled on his barstool as we talked.
“That’s just it. I didn’t catch her name. I wish I did. I got her in my mind for some reason. Probably because she was so damn nasty.” I justified the brief greeting to myself, but it was more than that. Her eyes were a striking blue that I’d never seen before and this in itself made me do a double take.
I wasn’t normally a man to get caught up in a pretty face, but her aura and brash tone made me take note. I figured in my upcoming shifts at the casino, I would catch her there. She looked to have a few chips in her hands, so I assumed she was a regular there.
“Wow. You got it bad already. What’s up with that?” Coyote tapped on his glass and downed the rest of his beer.
I paid him no mind. I just didn’t think to ask the woman’s name. It had been just one of those fleeting moments. She dropped the chips and I just picked them up. “I’ll see her again, I’ll catch her name then.”
“Uh-huh. What time do you start tonight?” Coyote’s tone sounded filled to the brim with cynicism.
My eyebrows shot up in response. “Six. Why?” I shrugged on my jacket. Now already heading towards five o’clock, I wanted to wash the grit of the day off before I buckled down for my shift at the casino.
“Keep your eyes out for Samantha. We missed her during the day, but maybe she’s out now,” Coyote reasoned, sliding his beer glass back over the bar.
“You’re right. Perfect time for deals to get cut,” I replied with slight uneasiness. “Plus, you reminded me to take a look at the security footage from the inside. I can suss everything out, now I’m officially on the roster.”
We quietly walked to the front door as the Mississippi day turned the corner to dusk.
“Do you like it there? Feel like that’s what you wanna do?” Coyote asked.
“Yeah, I do. I have a little more freedom than being behind the bar. I get to move between floors and see what’s happening. I don’t know how I’m going to feel down the line. I might get sick of doing laps at the casino, but for now I feel good.”
This was the truth. I felt hopeful for us as a club. We’d come a long way. We still had some invisible rope linking us to the mafia, but for the most part we were pulling our name out of the mud and moving to higher ground.
I fist-bumped Coyote, headed out, and mounted my bike homeward to the north side of Holbeck. I lived in a quiet cul-de-sac with not much going on. My neighbors were a few families with their kids and trikes…. a relatively low-drama street and I was content with that.
The fire changed a lot for me. I realized the value of my life and became grateful that the club was moving away from crime. In a lot of ways, I felt guilty about Samantha because I enabled her drug habit. I weighed it up in my mind as I hit the shower and let the water wash my guilty thoughts away.
No good would come of her partnership with Snake. That clown was a piece of trash and needed to be dumped somewhere in the muddy dregs of the Mississippi River.
I looked myself over in the mirror critically and stroked the bristly edges of my chin hair. I pulled my electric razor out to shape it up. I was in decent shape and carried my weight well, especially for my six-foot-three frame. Both my arms were tattooed from shoulder to wrist. Some of them were dumb choices, the type you make when you’re 21 and having too many drinks with your boys. The newer ink were tattoos I cared about, so my artwork balanced itself out.
I splashed on some cologne and headed out the door to the casino.
As I slowly idled in the parking lot, I heard a car running and faint voices. The hushed tones carried through the underground garage. I parked my bike close to the entrance and struggled to work out where the voices were coming from. It was hard to see, as the parking lot was full.
The number of visitors picked up on Thursday nights like tonight. I finally focused my eyes on the outline of a man in a black Jeep leaning with arm out of the window. He spoke with a woman with nervous hands. I saw her hand him a bag and glance over her shoulder. He took the little bag, and his tires screeched as he raced out of the parking lot.
The nerve.
I stayed out of eyesight and ducked behind a car. I didn’t want the woman to run. I wanted to sneak up on her, so she wouldn’t have a chance to get away. I slid between two cars, light on my feet.
The woman continued walking out into the above-ground parking lot thinking she had gotten away with the trade. I knew the cameras had picked her up too. I frowned, because if the guards were on their job, they should have seen her. That was something I would have to look into.
“Hey! What the hell are you doing?” I yelled out as the lady turned again. This time, I saw her deranged eyes, knowing immediately it was Samantha. She didn’t waste any time picking up speed and starting to run. My reflexes were too quick for her and I grabbed her rail-thin arm, digging in with a firm grip.
“Let go of me, you pig!” she screamed. “I should have finished you off when I had the chance.” She threw her head back with gritted teeth as she tried to swing her other arm down onto mine.
I caught her punch with my other hand as we wrestled. The more she tried, the harder I squeezed until I had her locked down.