Page 5 of Black Sheep
A rough, gravelly voice comes from just beyond my shoulder, and I spin around and come face-to-face with a man I’ve never met before. But I know exactly who he is.
His steel-gray hair brushes his lined forehead, but his ruddy cheeks are shaved clean. My first thought is that his posture is too straight for a man who carries a lifetime of sins on his shoulders. He should be stooping, or at least hunching a little from the weight his conscience must bear. Except, he probably doesn’t have a conscience because he’sDominic Casso. The head of the Casso crime family.
And he’s staring at me.Fucking hell.
As my smile begins to fade from my lips, I jam it back into place.Play stupid. Play stupid.
Pretending like I have no idea who the man in front of me is, I tilt my head to the side as he holds out a tanned hand.
“I’m Dom.”
I swallow hard, keeping an iron grip on my guise as I slide my fingers into his and shake his hand like I don’t know he’s washed blood, time and again, from that very skin that touches me.
“I’m Drew,” I say, hoping the husky quality of my voice sounds like it came from my laugh and not the fact that my heart is trying to hammer straight through my chest.
“Drew.” Dom says my name slowly, like he’s trying it on for size. Or maybe sizing me up.
I’m not exactly sure, but it’s a gut-wrenching feeling to be standing in front of the man who I’m ninety-nine percent sure made the call that destroyed my entire world. It takes everything I have not to rip my hand out of his when he doesn’t release it immediately.
I break his stare, because those piercing black eyes seem to be looking for the window to my soul. Odd, considering Dominic Casso can’t possibly have one of his own.
“Nice to meet you, Drew. I think we’ll cross paths again. In the meantime, keep laughing, pretty girl.” His assessing gaze rakes over me before he finally releases my fingers.
I break his stare and step away, wanting to put as much space between us as possible. Only then do I notice the two suit-wearing linebacker-sized men standing a pace away from us, watching the exchange with suspicion on their stony faces.
Of course he has security. I’m sure if he walked these streets without them, he’d end up dead inside four blocks.
“Nice to meet you, Dom.” I get the reply out, but it’s a lie, as per usual.
With a small smile, he turns toward the entrance to the building I just exited and strides away—just like his son did from me when he left me at the bar after rattling off drink orders.
I finally let out the breath I’m holding when the doors close on him and his two bodyguards. The resolve swirling in my system coalesces not into fear, but into a solid, unshakable vow.
Keep smiling, Dom. You’re going to need that levity in prison.
* * *
“What took you so long,girl? I thought you flaked out on me!” Randi yells across the bar, causing every single person in the place to gape at me standing on the threshold.
For someone like me, being the center of attention is a double-edged sword. I used to soak up the limelight, but that was until I realized there were many more benefits to flying under the radar when I chose.
But as Drew Carson, the limelight won’t jeopardize my investigation. My own stepmother wouldn’t recognize me right now, and that’s only partially because she could never be bothered with paying attention to a child who fell firmly into the category of daddy’s girl. The rest of the reason? She’s too self-absorbed to see through a thick layer of makeup, colored contacts, and a wig, even though she should have my bone structure burned into her brain.
Summoning my bestI got the job, it’s time to celebrateexpression, I give Randi a jaunty wave. “It only took me twenty minutes.”
She hip-checks a guy out of her way to get to me. “Celebration waits for no woman—or man,” she says as she throws her arms around my shoulders and squeezes me against her generously endowed chest. “So proud of you. I knew you could snag that fancy-ass job.”
“I’m glad one of us was that sure.” I return the hug, and when we break apart, she leads me to a table under one of the dozen TVs lining the wall of Lambo’s.
“Now sit your ass right here, and I’ll get you some of that girly bubbly shit you like and tell my boss I’m off for the night.”
“Can you do that?” I ask her, my head swiveling around to look at the packed bar and the two other waitresses rushing around like crazy people.
Randi tosses her silver-streaked black hair over her shoulder with apfft. “Of course I can. I fucked him good on my break. He almost busted through the condom because he came so damn hard. BRB, GF.”
She saunters away, her hips swinging from side to side like she’s on a catwalk instead of a floor sticky with beer and peanut shells crunching under her thigh-high boots. Every man in the place has his eyes glued to her tits or ass, all of which are bouncing with every step she takes.
I tear my gaze away from her fishnets, booty shorts, and midriff-baring black-and-white-striped jersey, trying to guess which of the gentlemen in the bar represent the three eggplants she plans on taking home tonight. Or not even home. As Randi just proved, she’s equal opportunity when it comes to hookup locations.
