She answered after two rings, her voice low and slightly out of breath. “Swan?”
“What’s up, Sarah?”
“Have you seen mom?”
A sense of foreboding hit me. The mention of my mother always meant trouble. Made me want to fork the sign of the evil eye. “No. Last time I saw her was three years ago at your place.”
“Shit.”
I took a deep breath, waiting to hear what Sarah needed now. It could be getting bailed out of jail, picking her up from an asshole boyfriend’s place, or any of a dozen other problems. Sarah didn’t live in Houston; she split her time between Austin and Las Vegas, and I was close enough that she knew she could call me for help. If, that is, I wasn’t pissed at her for fucking me over yet again. Yeah, I felt like a sucker for bailing her out so many times, but she was family. Fucked up, manipulative, self-centered, bitchy family, but family nonetheless.
“You need to meet me after work, please. It’s very important.”
True fear came through loud and clear in her voice, and I sat up straighter on the faded couch in the break room, ignoring the curious looks of two other servers lounging on the other couch, texting on their phones. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Look, I’ll be waiting for you at the Rusty Dollar. Meet me there as soon as you get off. Don’t go home, come straight to the bar.” She took in a shuddering breath. “Shit has hit the fan. I’m trying to fix it, but so far, I’m not doing so hot.”
The hair on my arms stood up. Sarah sounded really scared, and if you’d asked me before this point I would’ve told you nothing—except our mother— scared my sister. Sarah did off-the-wall crazy shit all the time without batting a fake eyelash.
“Sarah, do you need to call dad?”
“No ... no. At least not yet. I need to tell you what’s going on, but not over the phone.”
I sucked in a harsh breath between my teeth. “What the hell is going on? Are you having boyfriend trouble?”
Sarah had been with some guy out in Austin for over a year, a record for her considering she probably had enough sexual partners to number in the triple digits by now. I didn’t know him. I avoided social situations—and Sarah—and I never went to her home, no matter how many times she asked me. When I saw my sister it was usually at a restaurant, but she’d mentioned her boyfriend enough for me to know they were serious. She’d never been in an abusive relationship before, at least that I knew of, but her fear was so palpable I couldn’t think of what else it could be.
The hair on my arms rose as a muffled sob came from her end of the line. “No, my boyfriend is awesome, I love him more than anything in the world. Really, Swan, Beach saved my life. Look, I can’t talk about it over the phone. Just meet me at the bar. I have to go.”
Troubled, I hung up as the line went dead and stared with unseeing eyes at my phone.
“Everything okay?” Carmen, one of the other servers, asked in a soft voice.
I’d been working with these women for close to two years now, but because of my lack of social graces I was friends with only a few of them. Carmen was one of the few I considered more than a co-worker, she’d even been over to my house a couple times, but I’d been raised to suspect everyone of ill intent. So, however much I wished I could confide in her, I shook my head and forced a smile.
“Sister trouble. She’s a crazy bitch.”
Carmen snorted. “I totally get it. I have three sisters, and let me tell you, they are a trip.”
While Carmen chatted on about her family, I nodded along at the appropriate times, throwing in a word or two in response here and there. My mind was over-full, split between worrying about my sister and thinking about the savage fury in my Spanish god’s eyes as he went after the man who’d smacked my ass. As much as it had frightened me, it also turned me on, and I wondered if maybe I should try slipping him my number the next time he was in … if he came back. Maybe it would be easier to talk to him if I didn’t have to look at his amazing yumminess while I did it. I could just slip him my number as he was heading out the door and take off. With those thoughts in mind I stood and stretched out, wishing this night was over so I could be in my safe, secure home, in my clean bed and my not-so-orderly bedroom, and soaking up the solitude of my existence.
Chapter 3
As I pulled into the lot of the Rusty Dollar after I had stopped to get an extra-large order of French fries and filled my empty stomach, I thought it must be biker night. There was a long line of big, expensive looking bikes all tricked out and parked in front of the bar with a few guys lingering around them. Figures that my sister would want me to come here on biker night. She loved her bad boys, but she also knew I hated crowded places.