Chapter 6
OUTSIDE IN THE NIGHT, the cool air hit me and it all seemed unreal, like I had stepped out of a dream. The sky was big and black over the parking lot. A few trucks and saloons dotted the lot in the sodium light like orangey-gray gappy teeth.
Then I realized that I was still holding chips. I needed to go back in and cash up. I turned and bumped straight into Fitz.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise, it was an obvious play. He pushed me, gently at first. A rising heat in the front of his pants was uncomfortably close.
“Be reasonable, Belle.” He gave me a doggy-eyed look. Flicked his eyelids down and back up again. “We can work together, Belle,” his head cocked on one side, “We’ll make a great team.”
“Your charm and my money? Yeah, we’d be unstoppable.” I turned. His hand turned me back. All the softness had slipped out of his face. Now he just looked spiky, determined and angry.”
As I tried to shrug him off he grabbed my shoulder harder. I pushed back and his eyes narrowed as he slammed me hard against the side of a truck.
His tight, pointed eyes flicked towards my purse. My knee crashed upward into his balls. My timing was good. The lift in my thigh powered up into his groin. The apex of the swing would have been way up in his pelvis.
My angle was bad, though. He had on those stupid kind of jeans that hang low around his ass and so I connected with the inside of his thigh. All it did was hurt him enough to make him angry.
His hand moved off my shoulder to hold me by the throat and his other arm drew back. A gleaming blade flashed in his hand. My legs were trapped between his and I couldn’t get a swing.
The blade darted at my face. It stopped an inch from my nose. His head snapped backwards. An arm, covered in black leather, whipped around his throat. Fitz’s hips jerked forward and he collapsed backward and down to the ground.
A broad figure stood in front of me, his feet either side of Fitz’s head. Black shades, black hair, black jacket. The man I saw when I entered the casino. Dark voice. “You okay?”
My breath was still churning and my heart banged in my chest. I couldn’t speak but I nodded. Fitz began to lift his head. My rescuer lifted his foot and held it over Fitz’s nose.
“Stay exactly where you are, runt.”
Fitz didn’t move.
Then the man said to me, “Come back in and let me get you a drink. You can sit a moment. Get yourself together.” I peered at the shades. He lowered his head to look at me across the top of them. He held a big hand towards me, palm up like old-fashion chivalry.
“Laurent,” he said and a trace of a smile pulled at the corners of his lips.
As I took the hand he offered I managed to say, “Belle.”
He said, “You got the right name,” and the honeyed tone reminded me of Daddy. Not something I wanted to be reminded of right then, but it was reassuring somehow.
I stepped over Fitz. Before we left him there, Laurent asked, “You psychic, runt?”
Fitz’s head shook.
“Shame. Coz any time I see you again, I’m liable to bend your neck a notch further, you get me?”
Fitz nodded. Once. “So it would behoove you to know where I’m going to be.” Fitz’s lips stretched tight and his eyes crinkled. Laurent said, “You best stay home indoors the next decade or so.” Then his boot pressed down on Fitz’s nose.