The 'Burg: Hold On Part 8

He started chuckling.

"We'll share the load. I'll give you two hundred and fifty," I offered.

He shook his head as we heard the back door open, which meant Ruthie was strolling in.

"Glad you were there for him," he said. "I shoulda been there for him. Colt, Mike, someone. But I 'spect, what you just said, it's good it was you. Least I can do is cover the man's whisky."

It was cool of him to offer, and before this degenerated into a battle I couldn't win (because Morrie offering meant Morrie doing it), I decided to give in.

Bonus to that coolness, I wasn't out a wad of cash.

"Hey," Ruthie called.

"Thanks," I said to Morrie, then turned to Ruthie and called back, "Yo, b.i.t.c.h."

She grinned, shaking her head, and went to the office.

Morrie headed to the front door to unlock it.

Two minutes later, we had our first customer.

It got busy early. Once church was done and after-church big breakfasts at Frank's or big lunches at home were consumed, games were on and people hauled their a.s.ses out to commune with their fellow citizens and throw back some beers.

This was good for two reasons: more cash in my pocket, and being busy took my mind off the fact that at any second, Merry was going to walk in and deliver a blow he didn't know he was delivering.

I didn't get jumpy waiting for it. I knew better than that. I was resigned to the way of the world.

Jack came in, which meant me on the floor since he always worked back of the bar. I didn't mind this. I had candy bars and Funyuns to work off my a.s.s, and tips were just as steady at the tables.

I was delivering some drafts when he came in. I felt him like a sixth sense, and this wasn't a new ability he'd instilled in me after f.u.c.king me. The minute I'd laid eyes on him and the months it'd taken me to get to know him and fall in love was when I'd gained that talent.

I looked his way, saw his eyes on me, face guarded, and I gave it to him right away. A big, c.o.c.ky Cher smile.

He grinned, not quite hiding the relief, then looked to the bar, giving chin lifts to Morrie and Jack while heading around to the opposite end where all the cops hung out.

He did not take Colt's stool, the last one around the far curve. If there wasn't another choice, no one did. Colt's stool was his should he decide to saunter in, Feb there or not. It was just the way it was.

But Merry did take the stool next to it, one down from the hinge of the bar.

I dropped the drafts, took an order at a table on the way back to the bar, and wedged into the s.p.a.ce between Merry's occupied stool and Colt's unoccupied one.

I'd bucked myself up before arriving so I was all good when I got there.

"Hey," I said to him.

"Hey," he said to me, eyes moving over my face, eyes that flashed in my head as a memory, heated and hooded, right before he came.

s.h.i.+t.

"You get a break soon?" he asked.

"We're ordering in Shanghai Salon in a while," I told him.

"Let me take you to Frank's. I can call in our orders so they'll have them ready and I can get you back to work on time," he offered.

So he didn't intend to deliver the blow with me at work.

That was Merry-meaning, that was nice.

"Hang tight," I replied and looked to Jack heading my way. "Two Bud Lights and a Coors, bottle."

"Got it," Jack said, then looked to Merry. "Hey, son, you on?"

"Yeah, Jack. Can you shoot me a c.o.ke?"

"Sure thing," Jack replied.

I got my bottles first and told Merry I'd be back as Jack was aiming the drink gun into a gla.s.s of ice.

I dropped the beers, did a walk-through of my tables, got no orders, and headed back to the bar.

I hit the opposite side of Merry this time, closer to the room and not the wall, and wedged in.

"No orders, have a second now," I told him.

"Then tell me what you want me to order you at Frank's and ask for your break," he replied.

"You on lunch hour at four in the afternoon, or what?" I asked.

"Things are slow, but yeah, Mike's doin' paperwork at the station, and s.h.i.+t goes down, I'll have to head out. Either way, I need to get back, so I don't got a lotta time."

That being the case, I moved into him, holding his gaze. "Right, then, do what you gotta do. Get Mike a sandwich and head back, because you know we're-"

I didn't finish because Merry looked from me to over my shoulder. His brows drew slightly together and he straightened a bit on his stool, so I looked over my shoulder too.

At what I saw, I fully straightened and mostly turned.

This was because Trent's wife, Peggy, was standing at the corner of the bar.

She looked so out of place it wasn't funny. Baggy, high-waisted mom jeans. A shapeless top that showed very little skin and attempted to hide the fact she hadn't taken off her baby weight, which was somewhat substantial, laying evidence to the fact it wasn't all baby weight. No muss, no fuss hairstyle for her brunette hair, which could have been Martha Stewart hair, in a good way, but she seemed allergic to a roller brush and teasing comb. No makeup at all. Sneakers that looked like they were Reebok aerobics shoes from the '80s, not kicka.s.s Chucks or cool Vans or neon Nikes.

And last, a pinched look on her face that said the last time she'd been in a bar was never and she wished she could have kept it that way.

"Cheryl," she said, and my name sounded forced out.

"Peg," I replied, turning fully her way even though I did not freaking want to, and not only because I did not want to be talking to Peg, but because Merry was right...freaking...there. Once turned, I greeted all friendly, "Hey."

She opened her ma.s.sive purse, which looked like a diaper bag gone bad, and that was a feat since most of those things weren't the height of fas.h.i.+on, not to mention it was an actual purse, not a diaper bag at all.

Then she pulled out the envelope Trent had with him yesterday and slapped it on the bar.

It took a lot, but I managed not to recoil from it like it was a rattler she'd wrangled out, p.i.s.sing it off and setting it on a trajectory to strike me.

I also could actually feel Merry's eyes honing in on that envelope in a way it was a wonder it didn't burst into flames from the laser beam precision.

She kept her hand on the envelope as she spoke.

"Trent made a mistake and took this with him after you guys talked yesterday," she declared. "I thought it was important to get it back to you straight away."

"Peg-" I started but didn't get any further.

"Also, just so you know, the arrangements he told you we were going to make for you and Ethan will start this week. We'll be mailing the first check on Friday."

I knew from her look and tone, which had always been friendly and now was not, that not only was Trent on her s.h.i.+t list for f.u.c.king up yesterday's conversation, he'd shared what I'd said and she was not happy with me either.

She also wasn't wasting any time putting her plan into motion.

That being they could share with a judge they'd scrimped, saved, and sacrificed to do right by me, but mostly Ethan, even after Trent had royally f.u.c.ked things up, being a junkie loser who took off on his b.i.t.c.h and took her money with him.

I really wanted to tell her to go f.u.c.k herself. That all this s.h.i.+t was total bulls.h.i.+t, but her play, coming to me at my place of work when I couldn't make a return play, was jacked.

I couldn't do that. Too much was at stake. I had to be cool for Ethan but also because Merry was watching.

"Babe, I think it might be a good idea if we all found a time to sit down and talk," I suggested.

She scooted the envelope closer to me, replying, "You're at work, so I don't want to take a lot of your time. I think Trent made things clear yesterday. Now, I need you to take this envelope, Cheryl. You know, so I know what's in it is safe."

"Maybe-" I began, but she scooted the envelope sharply another inch my way and cut me off.

"You're at work and I have kids to get home to. If you'll take this, I'll know it's good and I can get home to my family."

Her words giving me no other choice, I reached out, and as I did, she quickly removed her hand so I could curl my fingers around the envelope and we'd not touch.

When I had it held safely in my hand, she nodded and declared, "We hope to see Ethan soon. Have a good day at work. See you."

With that, she turned on her aerobics shoes and walked out.

I stared after her, belatedly regretting my play of the day before.

I got p.i.s.sed, which meant Trent got p.i.s.sed and tipped his hand, which meant Peggy got p.i.s.sed, and I wasn't sure Peg p.i.s.sed was a good thing.

There was a reason Trent had come to heel. His kind of devotion to Peg could be won through reward or through punishment.

I was getting the sense right then it was punishment.

"You takin' a payoff right in front of a cop?"

Merry's voice, being Merry's voice (meaning Merry was there and had seen that, then said what he said, even though I knew it was a joke), tipped me over an edge I'd been riding for a long f.u.c.king time. But that weekend it was sharper, so it didn't take much for me to tip over.

Therefore I turned and snapped, "No it isn't a f.u.c.kin' payoff."

Merry's chin jerked down and his eyes narrowed.

"It was a joke, Cher," he told me.

"It wasn't a funny one," I told him, pressing the envelope to my stomach.

He looked down to it and then up to me. "Who was that woman?"

"No one."

At my answer, his ear dipped slowly to his shoulder before his head straightened and a look came over his face I'd never seen on him before.

But it was scary.

"What's in the envelope, babe?" he asked, his tone forced to casual, which meant it wasn't casual at all.

"Nothing," I answered. "Listen, I gotta-"

"What's in the envelope, Cher?"

"Nothing," I repeated. "Now, goin' back to what we were talk-"

He leaned an inch toward me and I was not a girl who was easily intimidated, but I had to admit, that inch was intimidating.

"What'd she give you? Who was that woman? Who is Trent? And what do they gotta do with Ethan?"

"Merry, straight up, this isn't any of your business."

That was when he leaned two inches toward me, and if one inch was intimidating, two was a threat.

This meant I should have known it was coming.

But knowing Merry, or thinking I did, thus thinking he wouldn't have what he was going to give me in him, I had no clue.

"Made you come for me," he whispered. "More than once. Straight up, Cher, it is. Who the f.u.c.k was that woman? Why is she pa.s.sin' off cash to you? And why's it got you freaked way the f.u.c.k out?"

His words exploded in my head along with the knowledge he wanted to take me to Frank's to lower a boom he didn't know he was lowering to share, even after what we had, that we were just friends.

Therefore, so far beyond thinking about the right way to play it, I played it stupid, leaning forward and hissing, "Wouldn't think I had to educate you, Merry, but seems I gotta educate you. Thrusting your c.o.c.k in a woman like me doesn't mean you own me."

He leaned back, which meant he straightened, and seeing as even sitting on a stool he was taller than me and I had to look up, that sucked.

Looking up meant he was looking down. Not his chin dipped, but he was looking down his nose, superior as s.h.i.+t, which was infuriating, and hot as f.u.c.k, which was intensely annoying.

His voice was a low, s.e.xy as all h.e.l.l drawl when he replied, "Wouldn't think I had to educate you either, baby. You know the man I am. You laid that s.h.i.+t out for me Friday night. But straight up, I thrust my c.o.c.k in you, it means when some mom b.i.t.c.h shows at your work and freaks you out, I do what I gotta do to take your back."