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“You got a bad throat?”
She nodded to Tony.
Sawyer and the rest of Lyntacky thought they knew this woman, but clearly she’d been fooling everyone with her good girl image. There was a lot more to Birdie McAllister, and he wasn’t sure yet how he thought about that.
“Drinks, anyone?” Janey poked her head in.
“I’ll take a whiskey,” Sawyer said.
“You want a soda, Bird Dog?”
Birdie nodded.
They were familiar with her, which told Sawyer she’d been here before.
He placed a chip on the table as a buy-in. The stakes in this game weren’t high, unlike some he’d played.
“Let’s play,” Joe said as he dealt the cards. Sawyer’s third was a king of clubs. Birdie’s was an ace of spades. Joe made the first bet with the lowest. He threw a chip into the middle.
By the sixth hand, Sawyer, who was no slouch, knew that Birdie was good. She’d won four hands so far, and he’d taken two. He couldn't see her eyes behind those glasses, but she believed he hadn’t recognized her.
Wrong, Little Miss Sunshine. I know who you are, and I want answers.
He’d be telling her when they were alone that he’d busted her again. First as the dirty-talking Madam Fleur, and now the red-haired gambler Bird Dog.
She shot him a look, and Sawyer kept his expression blank.
The sweater she wore was red and oversized, and clashed with her wig. The cuffs were rolled up several times. To Sawyer, it looked like a man’s sweater. One of her brother’s, maybe?
The sound of smashing glass two hands later had Joe rising from his seat. “Be right back.”
“Bet it’s those Bandits. They looked ready for trouble tonight,” Sledge said.
Sawyer rose and followed Joe to the door. If there was trouble, he was getting Birdie and leaving.
Two of the Bandits were fighting with some regulars. A man lay sprawled over one of the pool tables. Another was smashing a bottle on the bar. Hell was breaking loose, and they needed to leave.
“Game’s over,” Sawyer said, returning to the card table. “Let’s go.” He walked around the table to where Birdie still sat. “You need to get out of here, Bird Dog.”
“I can look after myself,” she rasped, loading her winnings into a backpack. “You go.”
The others were all heading for the door, clearly more worried about themselves and their money than the only woman in the room.
“Get up.” He grabbed her around the wrist. “Move.”
“Listen, buddy. I don’t know—”
“Birdie, move your fucking feet, or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you out.”
“How did you—”
“Move!”
She moved, letting him tow her to the door and through it.
“Get behind me,” Sawyer said.
The fighting now included all the Bandits and more locals.
