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We stepped into the parking lot and Rain changed the subject to something more upbeat. I was looking ahead with my arms wrapped in hers when I froze.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I groaned.
Mason Zacharra and another man that closely resembled him had dipped inside of Noir. Everything in me told me to leave.
Turn around and get in your car. Go home, it’s warm there. All your stuff is there.
“What?” Rain was looking around lost.
“Nothing,” I mumbled as we followed in behind people.
My stomach was churning at the thought of running into him.
“I already got us a table,” Rain said as we entered our brother’s bar.
The chatter was loud and I noticed everybody seemed to be dressed in western gear. Noir was one of the trendiest nightclubs in the area but it seemed as if it’d turned into a honky tonk overnight. Had my brother forgotten to tell me something?
“What is going on in this place?” I asked in wonderment, taking off my jacket before sitting down.
My eyes scanned for Mason but I saw no signs of him or the man he was with.
“D.J. started doing Western night about six months ago,” Rain laughed bringing my attention back to her. “Of course, your ass doesn’t come out, so you’d never know.”
I turned my nose up at her just as the waitress came up to us rocking some daisy dukes. “What can I get y’all?”
“Beer for both of us,” Rain replied shooting off the order.
Grimacing I thought about the last time I’d had alcohol. Rome had been an experience. “Girl, I don’t think I should drink.”
“Why?”
“I got way too turnt in Rome.”
Rain’s eyes lit up, and I know a blush crept onto my face. She was like a lioness stalking prey on the Savannah.
“Oh, I gotta hear this. Not Miss Goody Two Shoes getting drunky drunk!”
I covered my face in embarrassment. “I need a shot to tell this story.”
Rain rolled her arms and leaned back in her chair. “Yeah, ummm hmmm!”
Flouncing from my chair, I headed over to the bar. I was starting to loosen up. Even my shoulders had tension melting out of them. I hated admitting it but Rain had been right. Wedging myself in between a drunk blonde and her date on my right and some man already asleep on the bar to my left, I gave the bartender my order. I felt someone tap me on the shoulder and came face to face with Mason Zacharra.
“I thought that was you,” he smiled down at me.
“Oh, hey,” I replied.
“Damn. That’s all I get?”
I shrugged. “Sorry, just out with my sister. Wasn’t expecting to run into someone I knew.”
“Hope you’re not knocking back to many Amaretto Sours there,” Mason nodded to the bartender who’d returned with my shot.
Boy, do I need it now,I thought.
“Nope, not tonight. Rain says that serial killer struck again,” I turned and grabbed my shot.
“He did,” came an even gruffer voice than Mason’s, if that was even possible.
