Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 44899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Another shot appeared in Darby’s hand. Then another. Each time, she took it without complaint, following it with a careful sip of beer. The club girls matched her drink for drink, their voices growing louder, their movements less coordinated as the alcohol took effect. Laughter soon replaced the hostility from earlier. Mostly because Darby basically put on a show. She got everyone talking and telling embarrassing stories about guys in the club, dropping my name in there as if casting bait and waiting for something to bite. Only she was rapidly getting drunk, so there was no way she was thinking that clearly. It was impressive as hell but also concerning. I’d seen her take a dozen shots now without showing any effects. Either she had the tolerance of a seasoned alcoholic, or something else was going on. I leaned forward, studying her more closely.
“Well, I’ll be Goddamned,” I muttered.
“That’s my girl.” Tonio sat back in his chair, grinning from ear to ear.
“What am I missing?” Gunnar looked from us back to Darby, squinting as if to get a clearer look.
“When she downs a shot, she chases it with beer,” Tonio explained.
“Right,” Gunnar said, still looking confused. “I get that. But what’s so odd about that. Maybe she doesn’t like the taste of straight whiskey or something.”
“Nope.” I shook my head in disbelief. “You have to admire the simplicity of it. It’s literally the oldest trick in the book and she does it so fuckin’ easily it’s like a natural movement.”
“Yep.”
“Still not following,” Gunnar admitted.
“She’s not swallowing the whiskey, Gunnar.” I chuckled. “She’s spittin’ in the bottle.”
Gunnar snorted and nearly choked on his own beer. “Mother fuck.”
Knuckles laughed and clapped Tonio on the back with a solid whack. Tonio gave him the side-eye but said nothing. It was a game they played. Kind of like measuring their dicks.
Kat was swaying now, her words slurring as she poured another round. The woman had her arm thrown around Darby’s shoulder in the false camaraderie of the truly drunk. Darby continued to talk to Kat like they were old friends. Kat and the other club whores continued to match Darby drink for drink.
Long after Kat had stopped urging Darby to drink, Darby had taken over pouring shots. The poor prospect at the bar had given up trying to make them all slow down. Knuckles signaled him to let it go and texted Knight to lock down the compound. No sense in anyone leaving who wasn’t in any shape to. We protected our own.
“Knight says you’re a son of a bitch, Tonio,” Knuckles said with a grin.
“Of course, he does.” Tonio didn’t look upset.
“I miss something?” I raised an eyebrow at Knuckles.
“Knight said Tonio had his tech guy erase Darby’s identity. They made her a brand-new one, but she refused to use it.” Knuckles sat back in his chair, crossing one ankle over the opposite knee. “Well, until she decided she needed a couple things from the mall.”
Tonio barked out a laugh. “I’ve never been so fucking happy to get a six-figure credit card bill in my life. She might be pushing her boundaries or seeing if she can make me cut myself out of her life, but I can take anything she throws at me.” He met and pinned my gaze with his. “I expect your help with this, Sully. I want to be in her life.”
“Considering you basically furnished my whole apartment, I suppose I can manage. As long as you understand she’s my old lady.”
He nodded. “I think you’ve earned the right, unless she changes her mind. Then all bets are off.”
“She won’t.” I flashed him a grin. I glanced back in Darby’s direction. What had started as an ambush was transforming into one big-ass party with Darby right in the center of it. All while remaining stone-cold sober. It was a hustle worthy of respect, the kind of psychological game that required intelligence, patience, and nerves of steel -- traits Darby had in abundance.
“She reminds me of her mother,” Tonio said quietly, his eyes never leaving his daughter. “Not in looks, but in how she moves through the world. Like she’s always three steps ahead of everyone else.” Tonio glanced away. “Until she left me, anyway. I’m not sure what happened to her between then and when she died, but Darby was the one to suffer for it. And I should have paid more attention to Jen.”
“Your daughter,” I said carefully, “is the most capable person I’ve ever met.”
Tonio’s mouth quirked in what might have been a smile. “Capable of what, though? That’s the question that keeps me up at night.”
As if on cue, one of the club girls stumbled backward, knocking into a nearby table before sliding to the floor in a giggling heap. Another soon followed, unable to maintain her balance as she reached for the bar to steady herself. Kat, the ringleader, was now slumped in a chair, her head lolling as she struggled to keep her eyes open. Darby smiled widely, the architect of a destruction so subtle it looked like nothing more than a typical night of overindulgence.