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第8章

Bill was smoothing out the money and carefully folding it, bill by bill when Virginia snatched it back and put it under the mug. "She's not done."

"Hey, now. She quit." He took it back, glaring.

Virginia glanced over her shoulder. The two Wardens leaned over the bar, backs to her.

Theatrically, Virginia ruffled back her hair and pulled the rest of her money out of her pockets—fingers trembling despite her best efforts. "You know what? I'm bored."

Bill fell victim to the show, but he managed to shrug. "So?"

"It's not like that," Tourmaline snapped at her elbow like a circling mosquito. "I swear I didn't mean—"

Virginia twisted her arm out of Tourmaline's grip. "How about we make this more interesting?" She held up the rest of her money, acting as if the entire bar were watching—pageant smile on, pageant wave fanning the bills for the crowd. Elegantly, she placed the money underneath the nearly empty mug. "Winner takes all."

Bill exhaled a low rumbling sigh as he pulled out his wallet. "All right. I'll play." He too held up the money for the crowd, finished the beer in a swallow, and stuck it all underneath.

Now there really was a crowd, keeping a wide berth, but holding their beers with amused grins as they watched.

"You." Virginia found Tourmaline and jabbed a finger at her. "Socks." She wasn't about to let Tourmaline get away with breaking the deal she'd made.

Tourmaline's jaw tightened, but she picked up the cue and put her hand on her hip as the thin boy racked.

Virginia didn't bother looking over toward the bar. It wouldn't be long.

The boy went first, sinking half his balls right away.

The crowd pressed closer, glued to Tourmaline's reaction.

Tourmaline held her chin up, eyeing the table with poise. She didn't look like Margarine Girl at this specific moment, with her eyes calm and her hair brushed behind her. A cold fire was lit in her eyes and she looked ready to spit in someone's face.

Virginia's stomach twisted in knots, but she leaned against the pillar casually, breathing in deep breaths of Bill's Miller T-shirt–scented sweat and stale beer.

"Got plans tonight?" he asked.

"Yeah, watching my girl kick your boy's ass."

He laughed. "I meant after."

Virginia didn't answer.

It was Tourmaline's turn now. Finally. She bent—expression set and hip sunk as she lined up her shot between slim fingers.

The crowd held its breath.

Virginia, too.

Tourmaline tightened her jaw and hit. Three balls flew into the pockets.

The crowd shifted and murmured.

But Tourmaline didn't seem to notice. Immediately, she rounded the table and settled down, as if she'd known all along the place she would go. Lining up the shot, she smacked another ball into the pocket. Then a fourth.

A fifth.

Tourmaline chalked up, eyeing the two remaining balls and the eight ball.

The crowed leaned in.

Bill straightened off the pillar.

Virginia waited with bated breath, but not for the shot. Three. Two.

"What in the actual fuck are you doing?" a male voice boomed over the music.

One.

The older man stepped out of the crowd and slapped the cue stick out of Tourmaline's hands with a startling fierceness.

Tourmaline didn't flinch.

"Hey, man," Bill said, taking a step forward, hands up to calm everyone down.

The man turned, expression stone-cold and mean as hell under the dim light.

Virginia's breath lodged tight in her throat.

The look stopped Bill in his tracks. "Hey, sorry. I didn't know she was with you," he said.

"She's not," the man spat out. He turned back to Tourmaline. "Don't make me call. We'll all pay for that."

Tourmaline just stood there. Finally, she swallowed, and her eyes flickered between the two men. Suddenly, she pushed off and strutted past, head high.

Straight out the door.

"They're old enough. They knew what they were doing," Bill said to the black guy, as if by way of asking apology.

"They did," he said with a nod, turning to follow. "But you don't."

Shit. Virginia blinked in panic. She'd forgotten about her money, still sitting under the empty beer mug. She tried not to look at it, storming after the two Wardens as they followed Tourmaline. "What did you do? That was my money she was playing with. Wait," she called, pushing out the door after them. The wind snatched her breath away and the three figures walking ahead didn't look back.

Doubling her speed, she caught up to Tourmaline as the two Wardens headed for their bikes on the opposite end of the lot.

"Get on home," the older one yelled.

Tourmaline glared into the dark and flounced toward the truck.

Rage boiled under Virginia's skull, and with two long strides in the slippery gravel, she shoved all her weight into Tourmaline's shoulders. "Some of us fucking work for a living," she yelled as Tourmaline and her frothy dress went sprawling into the dirt.

Tourmaline scrambled up, mouth open. "Why did you do that?"

"Because you hustled me."

Tourmaline snarled and shoved back. They grappled for a minute, words lost in pushing and scuffing. Tourmaline twisted Virginia's arm back.

Virginia screeched and kicked at the other girl's shins.

"I didn't mean to. I'm sorry, okay?" Tourmaline yelled, but at the same time she threw a punch.

Virginia ducked. "Oh, yeah, I can really tell."

"No. Wait." Tourmaline skidded backward and tucked her arms into her sides, looking like she was about to cry.

Virginia stopped, chest heaving.

The Wardens still sat across the lot. Close, but not close enough.

"I'm really sorry," Tourmaline said as she dropped her hands to her thighs and bent to catch her breath. "For the whole thing."

"Oh, you think?" Virginia threw back. "Which part? The part where you made a deal and lied to me? Or the part where you ditched me when ordered by your little guard dog over there."

"He's not." Tourmaline straightened and wiped her eyes. "Look. I'm sorry. I'll pay you back, okay? I promise."

Virginia clenched her jaw, glaring at her. "Right." Her stomach churned. It was like her first pageant all over again. Where there was so much more on the line than whether or not she did what she was asked. Where the sum of her worth was back up for consideration. It shouldn't be; she'd proven herself again and again. But in her bones, she felt it. Sensed the change.

The wind gusted, swirling dust into their eyes, and when Virginia bent her head against the sting, she felt tired. Drained.

"His name is Jason," Tourmaline said in a half whimper. "I didn't think it'd be him. Usually it's Pickup who hangs out here. He wouldn't tell my dad—he thinks it's funny. But Jason will tell."

Virginia's gaze flickered up. Who?

"He's sergeant at arms, but don't tell a soul I said that."

"What?"

"Jason. Is sergeant at arms."

Virginia raised her eyebrow, a sudden shot of adrenaline rushing up her spine. She wanted to turn and look at him, sitting across the lot on his bike, but she didn't. "Oh."

"We good now?"

"No," Virginia retorted.

"What do you want?"

Virginia took a deep breath. She wanted whatever was so precious it had been hidden behind this elaborate ruse.

Behind her, a bike roared to life and Virginia jumped. A second started; their engines drowned even the wind as they passed by. Virginia dug her keys out of her pocket, heart racing. "Ready? I've got other things to do." She jumped in and turned the key.

Tourmaline got in.

Virginia pulled out of the lot, turning after the rapidly disappearing bikes.