“Oh, then I’m super cool with being called stupid.”
“What are you going to do? Beat her up? She’s carrying Vaughn’s spawn. Her words, not mine.”
Frowning, I stood up and walked to the kitchen. “You keep talking trash then blaming it on others, but it won’t keep you from getting smacked. You’re not carrying spawn, are you?”
“Not yet,” she said, following me. “Not for a while hopefully. Taking care of the twins is enough baby time for me.”
Winnie poured me a cup of coffee then one for herself. I suspected she was moving slowly to avoid continuing the conversation. I didn’t blame her since I didn’t know what to say either.
“What do you plan to do with the training?” she asked as we walked onto the enclosed back porch. “You can’t keep fighting at the Thunderdome forever.”
“I’m nineteen. I could keep fighting for ten years and it wouldn’t be forever.”
“Why would you want to?”
“I don’t want to go to college. I don’t want to work as an office clerk or waitress. I don’t have many skills, but I can fight. Saint can teach me to fight better.”
Winnie’s expression reeked of disapproval. I didn’t blame her. If the roles reversed, I’d be pissed to know my sister was fighting.
“I can’t do what you did with Dylan,” I said after a long while. “I don’t want to do what you did. The idea of a guy touching me makes me sick. Pisses me off too.”
Nodding, Winnie looked sad. This new life of hers was perfect and she wanted everyone to feel the same kind of happiness. In her mind, we all needed to find our Dylan and fall in love like her. Except love was the last thing I wanted out of life.
Chapter Four ~ Saint
Whiskey Kirk’s menu looked decent, so I stuck around to eat. I also figured Harlow would be calling her buddy Cooper soon. Waiting on her call, I enjoyed a decent helping of pot roast and a not so decent slice of garlic toast. As bar food went, the place was above average.
Covered in skulls, demons, fallen angels, crosses, hot women, the men around me were all tatted. Some tattoos looked like works of art. Others were crude. I planned to get tatted once I retired for real. Until then, tattoos were a no-no for any real assassin.
Over the years, I’d played the part of foreign businessman and boy-toy to rich women. Once I even played a tech nerd. Tattoos interfered with the roles. They also made recognizable tells for witnesses. With my mixed race, people reported I was Mexican, Samoan, black, and even an Eskimo. One key to remaining free was leaving the cops with no viable info to use. A witness might remember a tattoo though, so I remained ink-free.
I had a few ideas for my first tattoo. Something from my childhood, back when my soul was pure and my dreams were bigger than a good shot of Tequila and a decent meal.
Whiskey Kirk’s was full of badasses, keeping me constantly aware of their locations. Sitting in the back of the bar so no one got the jump on me, I noticed Cooper Johansson heading my direction. A big guy, he was used to throwing his weight around. To me, he was just a kid relying on his dad’s rep along with his own size to scare weaker men. I wasn’t those men.
“Want to tell me why you offered to train Harlow Todds?” he demanded in a hard voice while taking a seat across from me.
“She wants to fight, but doesn’t have a clue what she’s doing. I figured I’d train her, so I’ll have something to do while in your little town.”
“Why her?”
I gave him a little grin. “She’s a good looking gal. I’m not like these other guys looking for an easy lay while in Ellsberg. I’m not looking to hit anything besides a punching bag. Harlow is pretty, but she’s cold. All the temptation, but none of the worry about a clingy chick whining when I’m ready to leave town.”
Cooper studied me. While his dark eyes intimidated others, they reminded me of Harlow’s angry expression. Having stared into the eyes of evil without blinking, I couldn’t fear these children.
“Harlow is protected by the club,” Cooper said in his best badass voice. “Don’t be fooled about her dad being a preacher. He protects what’s his.”
“Kid, I know you’re the big dog around these parts, so you enjoy hearing yourself talk. I’ll warn you though. I’m too old to pretend I care.”
“I’m a big dog and you’re a bigger one. Fair enough, but Harlow is my responsibility. If you hurt her, I’ll use my power to hurt you. Maybe I don’t scare you or maybe you’ll think twice now. Either way, I said my piece.”
“When you talk to Harlow again, tell her I’ll pick her up at seven tomorrow. If she isn’t ready, the deal is off. I’m not looking to babysit.”
Cooper stood before changing his mind and taking his seat again. He glanced around before focusing on me. “What do you think of the guys Memphis brought?”