Page 65 of Crow
“I don’t trust Big Brother, so you’re right about that,” Crow replied.
Cherise came up to the table and started clearing away the dishes. “I want to pack up some cookies and a slice of apple pie for Jim. Is he okay to eat sugar?” she asked Crow.
“Yep, he’d love that. Put his food on my bill.”
“The sweets are on us,” she said, smiling.
Sliding out of the booth, he said, “I want to check on him before he heads out.”
Jim turned his head when Crow approached, and a smile spread across his face. “Thanks, man. It’s been a while since I had steak and eggs.”
“No problem.” He pulled out several twenty-dollar bills and handed them to Jim. “Get a fuckin’ room, okay?”
The man nodded, but Crow knew Jim would use the money for whiskey. He only hoped that he’d save some of it to get some decent meals for the next few days, but he also knew how powerful addictions were. He’d seen it with some of his friends from the old neighborhood back in Arizona. Their vice was heroin and crack. And then there was Uncle Frank who’d succumbed to alcoholism. That had hit him hard. Uncle Frank was the one who’d turned him on to Harleys and the excitement of the ride.
“I packed you something sweet for later on.” Cherise’s voice dragged Crow from his thoughts.
Looking down, Jim mumbled, “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She picked up the empty plates and stacked them on a tray. “Take care of yourself.”
“I will,” he replied without looking at her.
“Here you go, hon.” She handed Crow the bill, then ambled away.
“I better get going. I want to find a nice place to sleep.”
“A motel is better, dude.”
Shaking his head, Jim scooted down the cushion. “Thanks again. I’ll see you around.”
Crow walked out of the restaurant with him, then watched as his friend crossed the parking lot with the plastic take-out bag swinging slightly in his clutched hand. He turned around and slowly headed back into the diner. His thoughts were a million miles away when he bumped into someone, hard.
“What the hell?”
“Sorry,” he said, glancing up, then jerked his head back.
Angie looked at Crow, and when his eyes met hers, their shared glance locked for several heartbeats.
“Hey,” he said softly.
“Hey,” she said.
He stepped back and sucked in a breath. Angie was wearing skinny jeans with a rip mid- thigh, a berry-colored tank top, and open-toed heels that showed off her perfectly painted pink toenails. He licked his lips as his eyes scanned over the exposed skin on her shoulders. She looked beautiful, sexy, and sophisticated all at once. As Crow took in her glossy hair, warm almond-shaped eyes, and sensuous lips, he felt something low in his belly start to heat.
“Aren’t we getting a table?” a dark-haired woman asked.
“We are,” Angie said.
“Oh, hi, how are you?” the woman said.
Angie pointed to the brunette. “You remember my friend, Silvia.
“Yeah.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “What are you doing here so late?”
“We’re getting a bite to eat,” Angie said.
“I figuredthat.”
