Devon laughed. “Surrounded by your creepy doll collection? No thanks.”
“They’re not creepy. They’re porcelain, and antique. You have no appreciation for fine things.”
“Still creepy,” Devon insisted as they sat down to eat.
Picking up his fork, Frank suddenly got serious. “I don’t like you doing the package delivery thing, Dev. It’s not safe for a woman alone. You hear stuff all the time about Uber drivers.”
“I’ll be fine.” She took a bite of her taco, chewing carefully around her lingering headache. “I’m only doing a day shift. And I’m not driving murderers around, just packages. The money will tide me over until Mrs. G pays me at the pottery shop.”
“You’ve got way too much up here to be wasting your time on those jobs.” He tapped the side of his head with his finger. “You should be the top network security person at these companies, not delivering stuff to their customers.”
Her appetite suddenly disappeared, and she dropped her taco onto her plate. “You know I can’t do that anymore.” She took a drink of water and sat back in her chair. Frank was the only one who knew the whole story.
“Because you need to stand up to that prick.”
“Isn’t ‘prick’ a word normally reserved for a guy?”
“Yeah, but in this case, it’s totally perfect.”
“Frank.”
He put his hands up in front of him. “I’m just sayin’.”
Devon sighed. “I know. And you’re probably right. But at this moment in time I just want to eat my taco, enjoy your company, and go make a little money.”
At first she didn’t think he was going to let it go, but after a few seconds, he dropped his eyes to his food and picked up his taco. “All right. I’ll shut up about it. For now.”
“Thank you.” Breathing a sigh of relief, she went back to eating, hoping her stomach wouldn’t reject the food. She needed the boost in energy. “So, tell me more about this date you had.”
“Eh. It wasn’t all that.”
True to form, he launched into his story of his adventures the night before. But Devon found herself listening with only half an ear. Her mind kept wandering back to the night before, or rather, what she couldn’t seem to remember about it. Like getting home, for instance. She never drank so much she couldn’t get herself home safely.
After checking that Frank didn’t need her to pick up anything for him while she was out, she threw on her largest sunglasses and went out to her car, holding her purse above her head to protect it from the weather, and prayed the painkillers would kick in soon.
Her nondescript tan sedan wasn’t in its normal spot in the small parking lot of her apartment complex, and she panicked for a minute, wondering if she’d left it at the club and taken a cab home. She didn’t have the money to take another one back to retrieve it, and Frank didn’t have a car. Taking the bus wasn’t an option, either. They didn’t go out that far from the city. Sending up a quick prayer, Devon clicked her remote, listening for the telltale beep, and finally spotted it parked on the street.
She frowned, wondering why the hell she parked her car way over there. Maybe the lot was full when she’d come home? Though this didn’t seem likely. The lot was never full. Dodging traffic, she ran across the street. At least she’d remembered to max out the meter.
Shrugging it off, she got in and started the car, turning up the heat. The weather was so finicky this time of year. Luckily, the hail stopped before she reached the warehouse to pick up the packages that needed to go out, and she was able to complete her shift thirty minutes earlier than scheduled. As she’d hoped, the painkillers and food did some good, and Devon thought she might actually feel human enough to brave the grocery store.
But instead, unable to shake the feeling all day that something was…off…she found herself traveling south on I-35.
When she arrived at her destination, she threw her car into park, and stared at the front of The Caves.
Chapter 3
The Previous Night
“Who was that girl, Kohl?” Hawke was waiting for him when he went back inside after hearing Devon’s taxi leave. He sat at the bar with an open bottle of vodka in front of him, spinning slowly back and forth on his stool.
“Devon?” He shrugged. “Just another human who found her way into the club.”
Hawke studied him with an unnerving stare as he continued to spin casually back and forth.
His name suits him, Kohl thought, for he has the sharp eyes of a top predator.
“Why do I get the feeling there’s more to her than that?” he finally asked.
