Page 51 of Make You Mine

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“Long as it takes,” I said simply.

“You should stay longer than that. Meet some people. Makefriends.” He frowned. “Don’t you wanna make friends? Or are you a stuck up bitch?”

I ignored the sting from the word. “Got plenty of friends already.”

“Naw,” he said, drawing the word out. “You ain’t got friends likeme.”

“Come on, Carl,” Flop said. “Leave the girl alone.”

Carl whirled on the man, anger flashing in his beady eyes. For a heartbeat I expected him to draw his pistol.

Instead, a big smile split Carl’s face. “Right, right. Thanks for lookin’ out, Flop. I wouldn’t want to piss off her boyfriend.”

I snorted, because I thought he was just fishing to see if I was single. Then I realized he was looking over at Jayce seated in the corner.

Crap. My mind raced.

“That loser?” I made myself say. “Wish I had a real partner to pick up trash on the side of the road. He just cries about his dead sister all day.”

I winced at having to say it, but it was better than letting Carl think we had any sort of connection. Now Ireallyunderstood why Jayce had insisted on calling me the c-word the other day. It had to be convincing.

Carl chuckled. “You heard what happened to his sister?”

“Nope,” I replied. “And I don’t care, either.”

Carl laughed even harder. I thought I’d convinced him.

I was wrong.

“That,” Carl said, leaning so close I could smell the liquor on his breath, “ain’t what I think.”

What does he know?

I shrugged. “Don’t care what you think. It’s the truth. You want to replace his lazy butt, come help us fill potholes tomorrow.”

Carl waved for another drink. Flop rushed to fill the shot glass with expensive brown liquid, spilling some down the side in his haste. Carl picked it up, licked the side of the glass provocatively, then downed the rest.

“You want me to think Jayce don’t care about you,” he whispered. “But that ain’t what I saw at the graveyard the other night.”

Icy fingers wrapped around my heart and squeezed.Oh no.

Carl roared with hysterical laughter. “There it is! That look. Like a possum in the headlights before it gets run over.”

I glanced at Jayce. He was gone, his glass empty on the table. The front door was closing shut. He’d just left. So had the other patrons in the bar.

Now what?

Carl cleared his throat. He was leaning on the counter, a switchblade twirling in his fingers.

“I’m, uh, gonna…” Flop said, and disappeared into the kitchen.

“Here’s the thing,” Carl said in a dangerously-quiet voice. “Sid’s lookin’ for any leverage he can find over Jayce. He wants that moneyrealbad.”

“Jayce doesn’t have it,” I said, fumbling for a way out of the situation.

“You’re a pretty little piece of ass, so I’m gonna tell you a secret. It don’t matter if Jayce’s got the money or not,” Carl explained. “All that matters is Sidthinkshe does. He ain’t gonna be dissuaded. Sid’s like a dog chasing a tennis ball. He ain’t gonna stop ‘til it’s in his mouth.”

“I don’t know what you saw in the graveyard,” I said in a shaky voice, “but you’re mistaken.”


Tags: K.T. Quinn Erotic