Stone Cold Bad

by Tess Oliver

  He caught me staring at the reflection but ignored my expression. He was definitely not the type of guy who wanted to be pitied. Far from it.

  “Street texted me earlier that you got the job,” he started in on casual conversation as if I hadn’t just seen him in bed with two girls. I supposed that scenario was as common to him as the tide pulling back from the sand at dawn.

  “A trial basis,” I said, continuing with my bedtime routine. I pressed some toothpaste on the toothbrush. “I should be able to pay you back for all this soon. Then I’ll be out of your way. Jack, my boss, has a room for rent.”

  “Jade, you can’t live in that little cave room behind the bar. It’s not safe.”

  “I’ll be fine. I’ll get a really mean cat or something.” I couldn’t hide the disappointment in my voice. It was stupid because there was nothing between us. I’d even turned him down this morning, but I was hurt. For some ridiculous reason, I thought he’d hold off on his contest pursuits until I was out of the house. Now I saw how stupid that was. He stepped closer. I could smell girl’s perfume on his skin. It made me step away.

  I shoved the brush into my mouth to let him know I was done talking. He didn’t move. He just stared at me with those eyes that were a jade green under the bathroom light. I spit out the foam and clumsily wiped my mouth. He had me completely flustered.

  “I’ll bunk on the couch, of course. I’ll keep out of the way, I promise.” The discussion of sleeping arrangements had never been approached. Even though I’d never felt pangs of homesickness in my life, I did long for my comfortable bed in Ray’s house. Of course, it was only comfortable when the man wasn’t in it.

  He reached up to my face. I held my breath in expectation. “You missed some,” he said as his rough thumb wiped away excess toothpaste.

  He lowered his hand and leaned closer. “You can breathe now, darlin’, I’m leaving.” He walked out.

  My shoulders sank as I released the air that had been jammed in my lungs. I stood with my hands braced against the counter staring down into the moldy sink. Once again, I’d fled my life without giving any thought to my future. I was sure that Jack wouldn’t rent the room to me until he knew I was a good fit for his bar. Not that I had one penny to give him yet. I would sleep on the couch and try to be invisible for a few weeks. Colt’s brief visit in the bathroom had left me completely shaken and my heart pounding. A guy like him was the last thing I needed now. A guy like Colt Stone was the last thing I ever needed.

  Chapter 11

  Colt

  Our boat, the Durango, sliced through the emerald green water. I had that creepy feeling you get on the back of your neck when you know something is off. I’d had the same feeling that morning my mom had crawled into bed for the last time. I’d finished smearing peanut butter on my half of the burned waffle, and as I screwed the cap back on the peanut butter, a shiver went through me as if an icy wind had blown through the house. I went through the rest of the morning with an uneasy feeling, thinking something wasn’t quite right. And I remember thinking I should go in and see what Mom was doing, but I stopped myself. Something told me not to go down the hallway to her bedroom. It was Hunter who finally got hungry for some lunch and who had plodded down the hallway to her room. I knew, for some weird reason, I knew.

  Our connection, the boat sent to pick up the drugs, was moored at the precise coordinates they’d sent us earlier that morning. The sky was clear blue, and the sun was strumming a solid beat on the deck of the Durango. My dad had named the boat after his hometown. We’d never changed it. He’d be turning in his grave if he knew his pride and joy, the boat he’d loved far more than his sons and wife, the boat he’d never raised a cruel hand to, was hauling cocaine across the Pacific. That thought always made me smile. Anything we might do to piss our dad off in his eternal sleep was fine by me. We’d lived in hell while he was alive. It would be fitting to know that he was living in it now.

  Hunter lowered the spyglass. “Rincon said they’ve got a new guy in charge. Worked with some of the cartels south of the border, a real motherfucker.”

  I leaned against the railing. “Great. This gig just keeps getting better.”

  Slade steered toward them and shut down the boat’s engine fifty yards away from our connection. Hunter walked along the starboard side with his spyglass. There was nothing for miles but deep blue ocean, which was what we wanted and needed. I always breathed a sigh of relief when our highly valuable and highly illegal cargo was out of our hands and in theirs. I had no idea where it went after it was carried out of our cargo hold, and I didn’t really give a fuck as long as we got the cash for making the drop. Our part of the job brought the least headaches with it, except we had to trust that both sides had dependable people working for them. If word got out, we’d be targets, not only for the feds, but for pirates or thieves looking to make a nice score on a cargo hold full of blow.

  The other boat lowered a dinghy into the water. Their man stayed on watch from the crow’s nest while Hunter kept a lookout from the stern. Three men climbed into the small boat. Two I recognized as the usual goons who picked up the cargo. The third was a small guy with a shaved head¸ black beard and moustache. He had a shoulder holster on over his army green t-shirt. Nothing about him looked friendly.

  They glided over the waves in the dinghy. As they reached the Durango, I threw down the rope ladder. They tied off the boat and climbed aboard. The new guy had beady dark eyes. He glanced around with amusement at our rusty trawler.

  “Who’s in charge here?” he asked.

  Hunter stepped around with his spyglass. “I am. Why do you ask?”

  The man stared up at my brother who outweighed him by a good fifty pounds. That seemed to amuse him too, either that or the arrogant smirk was just part of his natural expression. “I always like to ask so I know who to direct the conversation to,” he said. He looked at me. “Just you two? I also like to know how many people are onboard when I step onto a boat deck. You understand.”

  Hunter pointed up to the pilot house. “One more guy. He’s in the captain’s chair.”

  The man squinted up to the pilot house. “Wave him down here. I like all hands on deck while we check the load.”

  Hunter stared at him a second, and I wondered if he would challenge the guy’s orders. Then he waved up at Slade to come down. We always kept pistols tucked under our shirts, but we’d never had to pull them out. Today my hand was itching to touch mine. It was obvious that Hunter had the same urge as me.

  Slade came down from the pilot house looking the way Hunter and I were feeling, tense. The two usual goobers who accompanied these pickups looked just as uneasy with their new boss.

  The man looked around with his shifty, deep set eyes as if he was expecting a bunch of armed men to jump out from behind the nets. “This is it then?” he asked after giving the deck a brief once over.

  “Just us, man. Let’s get this going. We don’t usually stand here for a fucking tea party.” Hunter was on his last nerve.

  The guy glared at him in a short contest of chicken to see if Hunter would look away. No fucking way that Hunter would do that. Impatience and a strong desire to get these assholes and this shit off the boat, prodded me toward the cargo hold. Shifty-eyed man followed.

  I opened the trap door. The cold barrel of the man’s gun pressed hard against my temple. The sound of him cocking his gun rattled in my ear.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Hunter asked between gritted teeth, now having no choice except to control his temper. Otherwise, my brains were going to be splattered all over my dad’s precious boat.

  “Assurance,” the guy sneered in my ear. He motioned for the other two to climb into the hold and haul the stuff up. The blow was in plastic bags, which had then been wrapped in brown paper and tied into manageable bundles, bundles that could easily be thrown overboard if needed.

  Hunter and Slade both looked as if fire would shoot from their nostrils if they took a breath. Instead, th
ey held in the rage and waited while the men dragged up the bundles and counted them. The jerk with the gun against my head reached down and pulled a knife from his leather holster. He sliced one bundle of the coke and dipped his finger in it. He rubbed it across his gums. “Lucky for you, it’s good stuff,” he snarled at the side of my face. “Get this to the dinghy.”

  His two coworkers worked quickly to get the bundles down to their boat. The guy shoved the barrel harder against my temple and gave it a little turn to twist my skin painfully.

  He leaned closer. “I’ve got to compliment you. You didn’t flinch once while I had this Glock pushed up against your skull.” He lowered his gun and put it in the holster. “I’ve had men piss their pants when I shoved a gun against their head, but you just stood there cool as a fucking cucumber. Impressive.” With that, he walked to the stern and disappeared over the railing.

  I looked at my brothers. Hunter’s knuckles were white as he unfurled his fists.

  The dinghy motor buzzed like a hive of angry bees as they returned to their boat. Slade shook his head as he climbed back up to the pilot house. “Don’t know about you two, but I’m ready to get the fuck out of here.”

  Hunter didn’t say a word. He walked back to the railing and lifted his spyglass to his eye.

  Chapter 12

  Jade

  Susan, the woman who usually served drinks with Amy, couldn’t get her car started. Jack tossed me an apron and a tray and told me to just follow what Amy was doing. I was nervous as heck at first. I was sure I would spill everyone’s drinks, but the customers weren’t the spoiled, whiny type like some of Ray’s snooty friends. Everyone was kickback and not terribly demanding. They knew I was in training. They were a rowdy, loud and hard drinking bunch just out to have a good time. My bad case of nerves eventually dissolved.

  After a few hours, I found myself enjoying the work, and the tips were a nice addition. Susan’s misfortune had made it my lucky night. Jack seemed to take notice that I was handling the server job without too much trouble. I hoped that meant I’d be off dishwashing soon.

  One table, a booth near the bar, was filled with four fishermen who’d come in from a long day on the water. They smelled of salt and fish and sweat, but they ordered a lot of drinks and they tipped well, so it was easy to put up with their manly aroma. I placed their fourth pitcher of beer on the table. The beers were finally catching up to them.

  The one who they called Bobby lifted a wavering finger at me. “You’d make a very pretty mermaid with that silvery-white hair.” His words were slow and stretched out from the beer.

  “Thank you. But I’m not sure how successful I’d be without a fish tail.”

  Their laughter vibrated the table in the booth. I spun around to head back to the bar for some more drinks just as Hunter walked inside. The serious flood of nerves I’d been dealing with when I first started waiting tables returned ten-fold when Colt walked in behind him. As if there had been some weird magnetic field between us, Colt’s green gaze instantly found mine. We stared at each other as if stuck together. I broke away first and returned to the bar.

  Amy was behind the counter filling a pitcher of beer. Her eyes were glued to Hunter as he made his way across the room. Chairs scraped the floor as all three brothers sat down at one of my tables.

  I shot Amy an anxious look, and she read my mind. “I’ll wait on them. You can take my table over by the window. But I’ve got to warn you, they’re kind of obnoxious. I’ve never seen them before. Apparently, they’re just passing through. Thank god.”

  I looked over at the window table. There were three guys wearing leather motorcycle jackets and smug expressions. One had shaved blond hair and a jaw and forehead that reminded me of Frankenstein. He caught me looking over at them and winked. I looked quickly away. “You’re right, they look obnoxious. But I’ll still trade with you.” I lifted some glasses from the shelves under the counter. Amy, who never missed a damn thing, saw that my hand was shaking.

  She took the glass from my fingers and placed it on the tray. “You need to tell yourself that it’s just Colt. He may not look it, but he’s just a mere mortal who happens to look like a fucking Adonis, and, unfortunately, he’s just as smooth as a Greek god too. But he’s just a man. Now take a deep breath.”

  I stopped and pulled in a long, slow breath, then released it. Amy’s eyes widened at someone behind me. I looked at her. She winked, assuring me that it was Colt.

  I turned around. His smile immediately sent the usual flurry of butterflies bouncing around in my stomach. “They’ve got you waiting tables, huh?”

  “Susan had car problems. I’ll be back on dishes tomorrow, but I don’t mind.”

  “How was the fishing?” I asked. They’d left early in the morning, and I had been relieved to have the house to myself for a few hours. I’d had a chance to reflect on everything that had happened in the last few days. The peace and solitude had felt like a long, luxurious soak in a bubble bath.

  Colt combed his fingers back through his hair. “Fishing wasn’t the best, but we all made it back.” He, of course, didn’t have the same semi-rank odor of the other fishermen I’d just served beer to. I’d already figured that fishing wasn’t really their thing, but it was none of my business. What I did know was that I certainly didn’t need to get tangled up with another guy who was always one step away from jail. Of course, I could have been jumping to conclusions. The three brothers could have been up to something completely legitimate out there on the water. But they didn’t exactly look or act like choir boys. The complete opposite, in fact. I probably wasn’t jumping too far.

  “Are you waiting on our table?” Colt asked. “We need a pitcher and some tequila shots too.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Amy said from behind the counter. “Keep your panties on. I’ll get it to you in a second.”

  I tried to scoot past him, but he blocked me. It was only for a brief moment, but it felt as if hot static charges flew back and forth between us. I didn’t have the courage to even look up at him. It was always best to avoid his face, those green eyes, that cool, calm exterior that made me a trembling mess inside. He finally stepped back. His fingers brushed my arm as I slipped past him. I felt his light touch all the way across the floor as if his fingers had seared my skin.

  The only way I was going to survive the rest of the work shift was by completely ignoring his presence. I was never the type of girl to fall into a nervous muddle about a guy. I couldn’t understand why Colt had me so distracted. Right from the start, in the utility closet, the way I’d immediately succumbed to him when he pressed his hand between my legs, it was as if he’d cast me under his spell. But I needed to break myself free of it, and fast.

  I’d been avoiding the table by the window, but the big dude with the square head had waved Amy over. I walked toward him. “Hi, I’m Jade, and I’ll be your server for the rest of the night.” I glanced down at their beer bottles. “Another round?”

  One of the men had a nasty scar running across his cheek. He had thin lips that he kept licking with the tip of his tongue, reminding me of a snake. He looked pointedly at my breasts. “The other girl had more buttons undone,” he said. “Don’t think we’ll be tipping you as well unless you show a little more cleavage.”

  I ignored the comment. “I’ll bring you another round.” I leaned over to pick up the beer bottles.

  The square faced man leaned over to make a point of looking at my legs. “Those are some nice panties under that teeny skirt.” I straightened, again ignoring the comment and reminding myself that they were drunk. I knew, too well, how awful some people could be when they’d had too much alcohol.

  They whistled loudly as I walked back across to the bar. As hard as I’d tried to ignore him, my eyes flicked in Colt’s direction. He was sitting up straight staring hard at the three jerks at the window table. The evening had been going so well, but it was disintegrating fast. There were still two hours before closing, and with the way the beer was f
lowing, the place would be filled with drunks long before the doors were locked. I just had to keep my wits about me.

  Just as I had that thought, four women walked into the place. The second they spotted the Stone brothers, they headed their direction. Two of them pulled up chairs, one of them climbed onto Slade’s lap and wrapped her arms around his neck before kissing him. The fourth, a curvy girl with long, dark hair and cherry red lips climbed onto Colt’s lap. His arm went around her, blowing apart my fleeting fantasy that he would push her away instead.

  Amy came over to grab some limes and salt. “I really hate those girls. We went to school with them. Two of them just got back home from college for summer break. The one sitting next to Hunter—”

  “You mean the one who was decent enough to pull up a chair instead of a lap?”

  “Yeah, she’s not quite as forward as her two giggly friends, but she’s sly. She’s going to some school on the east coast. Her family owns that big house that sits up on the hill overlooking the bay. She’s always had a big thing for Hunter. Naturally, her father would never approve, but she still likes to follow him around like a lost puppy.” Amy looked upset and that was rare for her.

  I touched her arm as she picked up her tray. “And she’s got nothing on you, Amy. Really.”

  She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. She can have him. He’s nothing but trouble anyhow.” She carried off her tray.

  Reluctantly, I delivered the beers over to the three creepy customers. Now that the women had joined the Stone brothers, I was exceptionally glad not to have their table. I could put up with a few rude comments and lascivious tongue movements if it meant not having to wait on Colt while some girl was wrapped around him.

  I forced a polite smile as I placed the beers down on the table. The three men sat silently and watched me. I was just about to make a clean escape with my tray, but as I turned, the man with the scar leaned over and grabbed my ass.