Stone Cold - Ashby Crime Family

She blinked and looked up at me, confused at first. Then relieved. “Calvin. Yes, I’m all right,” she said, trying hard to find the prim and proper girl who was just a little bit disgusted by me.

I turned and got a good look at the guy who was little more than a kid, once you got past his long, dirty hair and green streak. He was maybe nineteen but already had the Crusader crest tattooed across his throat. Another lost cause. He was, but Bonnie wasn’t. Not yet anyway, but she was close if she was already doing business with The Crusaders. “You sure?”

“She said she was fine,” the kid snapped, drawing himself up to his full height and puffing out his chest. It would have been laughable if not for the outline of the Glock at his waist. “Why don’t you mind your business, pretty boy?”

“Why don’t you make me, tweaker?” I wasn’t really a fighting kind of guy. That was more Virgil’s thing, but he and Jasper guaranteed I knew how to defend myself. After our short stint as Catholics, we all made sure we were never in a vulnerable position again.

He got in my face. “Who the fuck you callin’ a tweaker, you ginger fuck?”

I laughed. “Oh good. Something I haven’t heard before.” I looked at him, waiting for him to decide if he wanted to make a scene or if he wanted to live.

In the end, he chose life, sliding Bonnie a threatening look. “Bonnie knows what she needs to do,” he said. “I’ll be seeing her soon. Real soon.” He flashed a phony smile and walked away, whistling as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

As soon as he was outside the bar, I turned to Bonnie. “Wanna tell me what that was all about?”

I knew she’d lie to me before she opened her mouth, but still, I was surprised. “Just another creep who can’t take no for an answer.”

“Try again, sweetheart. I know a threat when I hear one.”

She glared at me and let out an irritated sigh. “I’m not your sweetheart,” she shot back.

I couldn’t help but laugh at her unexpected feistiness. “Not all that sweet anymore.”

She sighed again, but this time it was heavier, like the burden of her fucked up life was weighing heavy on her. “I tried sweet and it didn’t work out too well for me, so fuck it, I figured I’d give bitch a try. Is it working?” Her eyes looked up at me, pleading.

“Not in the way you think.” The hint of fire had returned, which meant so had my unfortunate attraction to the prickly redhead, but she didn’t pull off bitchy all that well. “You okay?”

“Peachy,” she said quickly, her tone full of sarcasm.

So, not good. “Whatcha drinking?”

She glared at me then, leaning in suspiciously. “You have something to say to me, Calvin?”

And she was spoiling for a fight. “Nope.” I folded my arms and grinned. “Just asking. It looks delicious.” It was a colorful girly concoction that would probably get her drunk before she realized what had happened.

“It is,” she said in that familiar snooty tone.

“Good.”

“Great,” she shot back, a slight twitch of a smile at one corner of her lush pink mouth.

“You’re okay? Really?”

Her disdain dissolved and was replaced by a softer look. “I’m fine, Calvin, thanks for asking. And thanks for checking.”

Chris waved to me from the table I’d vacated, and I nodded. “You sure? I have a contact waiting.”

“A contact?” She cocked her brow and let out a surprising giggle. “How very Bond of you.” Bonnie stood, wobbly on her feet. My hands shot out automatically to catch her.

“Super Bond of you,” she said with a hint of a slur and straightened, backing out of my grasp like she felt that zip of electricity too.

I watched her stumble the bathroom then made my way back to Chris. He wore an urgent look, so I listened with half an ear as he told me about some last minute information that had come through, my eyes glued to Bonnie the whole time.

She was becoming a distraction.

Something I couldn’t afford.

Chapter Seven

Bonnie

What were the odds that I’d run into Calvin Ashby at Club Degenerate of all places? I’d purposely chosen a place that wasn’t owned by the Ashby family or anyone connected to them. I wasn’t avoiding them. I just was tired of having someone spy on my every move.

So much for that.

Calvin’s watchful green eyes were like an added weight holding me down. I felt it from across the room even before I knew it was him. When he approached, I was sure it was to rip me apart in front of Squeaker. Instead, he’d come to my rescue, playing the role of white knight to a T. He seemed genuinely concerned about my well-being. I appreciated it, because Squeaker wasn’t the best kind of person to hang out with, even if I didn’t trust Calvin’s chivalry.