Shadow of Sin(3)
“But?” Caleb prompted when Alec went silent.
“She doesn’t have anybody else, Cay. She’s my friend and Amanda loves her. Brandon likes her too. Seems it’s just you that has a stick up your ass when it comes to her and, although I have some theories about that, I’d rather you just go get her and take her home.”
“You still haven’t told me why you can’t go pick her up. She called you.”
“I’m working. Being productive. And by the time you’re done arguing, I could’ve sent Amanda. In fact, she’s online working with me right now. So, what’s it going to be, Caleb?”
Jesus, doesn’t anybody in this family sleep? And Alec was right. He was acting like a complete ass, which seemed to be his normal state where Samantha was concerned.
Caleb leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his thighs. He rolled his head on his shoulders. “Fine. I’ll go. Where is she?”
“A place called The Five Crowns. Somewhere out 71. You heard of it?”
Caleb cursed. Was nothing sacred? Of course he’d heard of it. It was his place. A shitty hole in the wall where he could always find a drink, a fight, or a friendly card game—depending on his mood. It was a place where a man could blow off some steam. Wasn’t it enough for her to make his life miserable? She had to take his private hideaway as well?
Fuck that.
“Yeah, I’ve heard of it. I’m on my way.”
* * *
Almost twenty minutes had passed before Caleb turned onto the all but hidden dirt road. Another ten minutes passed before he pulled into the gravel lot in front of The Five Crowns. How had she found this place anyway? Knowing the clientele, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
Motorcycles, parked side-by-side, lined the front of the bar. A few trucks were scattered around, causing him to wonder where Samantha had left her car. That could explain how she’d found the place. She’d hitched a ride with someone. He really hoped he didn’t have to fight some drunk asshole tonight.
The men who haunted this bar were a good lot, always willing to give Caleb a fair fight when he had energy to burn. He’d had his ass kicked in this parking lot almost as many times as he’d kicked ass. And then they’d go back inside as if nothing had ever happened. He had a feeling it wouldn’t end as well with Samantha in the mix.
It took him all of three seconds to locate her. There were at least ten men, every patron in the bar as far as he could tell, hovering around one table. Samantha’s bright auburn hair stood out in the sea of denim and black leather. She was bent forward, the sorry excuse for a top she wore gaping open as she studied the cards on the table.
“Hey, handsome.”
Caleb turned toward the bar and smiled. The tiny, dark-headed minx behind the bar was one of the few people he enjoyed being around. She’d owned the bar for as long as Caleb had been coming here. She wasn’t one of those annoying people who tried to get up in his business. She didn’t push. She served his drinks, took his money, and didn’t take his shit. He’d seen enough to know he didn’t ever want to end up on the business end of the shotgun she kept behind the bar. Or the baseball bat.
“Hey, Rosanna,” he said as he approached, walking around to the end of the bar so he could sweep her into a bear hug. “Everyone behaving themselves tonight?”
“Everyone but me, you big ox,” she teased and gave him a quick squeeze. “Now, put me down before you ruin my reputation.”
Caleb’s laugh rang out, deep and husky. He placed her on her feet and stepped back, putting a few feet between them. “We wouldn’t want that now, would we?”
“I’d never recover from the gossip of being tagged with the likes of you. All other men pale in comparison.” She fisted her hands over her heart in dramatic fashion.
“I do what I can, baby doll. What’s a guy gotta do to get a drink in this place?”
She winked. “You do know how to give a girl ideas, don’t you? But instead, how’s about you just order one? I’d say that’s the easiest route to getting your drink.”
“Water?”
Her brows shot up and understanding dawned in her eyes. “Right.” She reached down, twisting off the cap and sending it flying toward the trash as she put the bottle in front of him. She jutted her chin toward the crowd. “You’re here for the redhead?”
He didn’t even ask how she’d guessed that. Caleb turned around to find Samantha’s gaze on him. Even in the poor lighting, he could see the furrow of her brow as she scowled at him. If she thought that would intimidate him, the woman was crazy. The fact that she was here, alone, pissed him off. She was tough, sure. But could she hold her own against a bunch of drunks twice her size? Her sense of self-preservation was severely lacking—something he’d discuss with her once he got her in the truck.