“Seventeen years,” I say, and she looks as surprised as I feel that I said it out loud.Seventeen years.Can it really have been that long?
Fortunately, before she can ask me anything else, we both turn toward the barn when we hear Cypress coming out with the three horses—Cerberus in front, followed by a pretty bay mare that must be Dolly’s, and then Helios in the back appearing bad-tempered as usual. Does fit, I suppose. The name. It’s close to hell, although I doubt that’s why Cypress picked it. More likely, there’s some other meaning that delights him to no end.
“Always grinnin’,” I say, shaking my head when he sees us waiting and gives an absurdly cheerful wave. “Even when it’s over something that’s probably going to get us killed.”
“Perhaps you should try it,” she suggests, not bothering to hide her answering smile at all.
“What? Getting us killed?”
“No,” she replies, taking my arm and heading down the stairs. “Being happy.”
Consult the local records, and they’ll all tell you the same things about the town of Renas.
She’s small. Barely more than fifty people.
She’s got a mayor. A man named Rick.
And she’s got a sheriff. A man named Stuart.
And she’s quiet as a church mouse.
Consult the local citizens, and they’llalsoall tell you the same things about the town of Renas. The first being that Dollyisthe town of Renas. That she is the mayorandthe sheriff. That she is anythingbutquiet. And that the same can be said for her place.
Purposefully situated just outside the town lines, Dolly’s place has more people coming through it on a daily basis than Renas does. All with various intentions and aims, most of which they prefer to keep to themselves. Which is fine, as long as they also keep to the rules.
“The rules?” Aiden asks as we walk inside, both of us following behind Dolly until she’s immediately pulled into someconversation or other and we’re left to our own whims. “And what might those be?”
“Generally?” I smile, catching the tune being played and the first flashes of color up on the stage. “Mind your business and mind your manners.”
“Right,” he mutters next to me, his brown eyes growing a bit bigger than usual as he takes in the room, and I try to see it too like it’s my first time. The dark wood walls and floors, the long mahogany bar with the rows and rows of bottles that line the mirror on the wall behind it, the dozen or so packed poker tables, the women dancing in their flying skirts on the stage, the musicians playing the quick-paced music out in front, and more than one couple who didn’t quite make it upstairs quick enough. “Right.”
“Are you?” I ask him, watching his gaze catch and linger on a smitten pair on the stairs, on a woman in a dark green dress who has very little of her red rouge left on her mouth. “If you’re uncomfortable, we can go. It’s no—”
“Christ, you really think I’m that…what was the word you used?Repressed?” He turns his head toward me and rolls his eyes, though the tips of his ears have also gone pink, a color I find incredibly endearing. “Just wasn’t imagining Dolly’s bar to be so…”
“Diverting?” I offer, looking back toward the couple just in time to see them take off laughing up the stairs. “There are rooms on the second floor,” I inform him. “Should the need arise.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he mutters, shoving his hands in his pockets and glancing my direction a few times before he clears his throat and studies the room again. “Shouldn’t be here. You heard what Dolly said yesterday. Talk about what happened in Soldana has already made it out this way.”
“Not only talk,” I murmur, immediately making his eyebrowsshoot up beneath his hat.
“Meaning?”
“There’s posters in town,” I admit. “I was sort of hoping we might pass one or two on the way here. Would be a nice keep…” I trail off when I realize he’s now staring at me like he might grab me by the shirt again. Not that I would mind. “Maybe later.”
“There are posters?” Aiden snarls, voice low. “And you’re only telling me thisnow?”
“Well, you didn’t really give me the option of telling you earlier,” I remind him. “So,yes, I’m telling you now.” I glance toward a few of the tables near us and the eyes that are starting to drift our way. “Although, if you really are worried about us being spotted, perhaps we should stop drawing so much attention to ourselves.”
“What weshoulddo is leave.” His jaw clenches, his teeth grinding together. “Fuck’s sake, you make me fucking crazy, you know that?”
“No one here is going to say a thing, even if they do recognize us,” I explain, trying to get him to meet my eyes. “It’s as I said. Here, you mind your business. Or else. No one is going to want to risk—”
“Yeah, yeah, can’t spend money if you’re six feet under,” he mutters, letting me know he’s already had this conversation with Dolly. “Both of you are putting an awful lot of trust in other people, you know that? And you’re asking me to do the same.”
“I’m not asking you to trustthem,” I start to argue, waving a hand in the general direction of the room. “I’m asking you to trust—”
He shakes his head before I can finish. “You do what you want. But if you get yourself strung up again, don’t be expecting me to cut you loose. Not this time. Our agreement isn’t an excuse for you to be fuckin’ careless.”