Pistol Read Online Free Page A

did you…” Steph started.
    “Let’s say I know their type.” He rubbed a hand over his hair, which he wore longer on top and slicked to the side. “Those fellas and me? We had some words.”
    “Oh my God.” Cass threw her arms about his neck and gave him an awkward, one-sided hug. “Thank you.”
    He stood stiff as a board until she withdrew; his gaze never broke from Steph’s. “It was nuthin’.”
    “Thank you,” Steph repeated.
    He held her stare from under hooded eyes, and then stepped up to her. The tip of his boots touched the toes of her heels, and she could smell his musky scent; bourbon, and cigarette smoke. The barman gently cupped her chin between forefinger and thumb, and tipped her head up to lay a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Stay safe, Cutie.”
    Her fingers idly traced her chin as he turned, walked away, and disappeared past the doorman into the club.
    “ What was that?” Cass cried out as she stepped in front of Steph’s face, hands firmly on hips.
    “I’m not sure,” she replied.
    At least this time she told Cass the truth.
     
    ****
     
    Pete held his fingers to his nose, and drew in the sweet scent of the goddess he’d walked away from. That in itself took every ounce of self-control he could muster. The girl was intoxicating; heavenly to look at, and even more angelic when she spoke. When was the last time a girl had him in a daze like this? A foreign pull low in his gut told him the answer may be never.
    He drew a seat in the staffroom, and flicked open the first wallet he’d taken from those shameless fuckers that stole the blonde’s cash. The boys had denied it flat-out, until Pete snatched the biggest asshole’s shirt in his fist, and pointed out the bar had security cameras. Little punk’s had no idea who they dealt with, so had no clue he would pick-pocket their own wallets in the process of kicking them out.
    He drew out the driver’s lice nce, and looked at the name. Figures such a jumped-up little monkey would have a name like that. He retrieved his phone from his pocket, and flipped through the rest of the wallet while he thumbed to the number he needed. Pete hit dial, and waited. He pocketed thirty dollars from the bill-fold, and snatched the credit card from both wallets.
    “Pistol, mate. Haven’t heard from you in a while.”
    “Yeah,” Pete answered. “Been occupied.”
    “Haven’t we all. What can I do you for?”
    Pete flicked his lip ring with his teeth, and smiled. “I’ve got a job for ya.”
    “Yeah?”
    “Credit cards. Drain ‘em. The fucker’s deserve it.”
     
    ****
     
    Steph pulled the sheet up over her head and groaned. Waking up the day after a long night out was never fun. Especially when the shrill resonance of her mobile ring-tone was the reason for the disturbance.
    She dropped her legs out of bed, and sat on the side as she reached for the phone. She slid the screen, pushed the speaker button, and set it down on the nightstand again. “Good morning, Mum.”
    “Only just.”
    “What time is it?” She rubbed her eyes, then stretched.
    “Almost eleven-thirty,” her mother remarked dryly. “Out all night were we?”
    “For the most part.”
    “I take it Dave isn’t home then if you managed such a big sleep-in?”
    “No, he’s not.” She couldn’t be bothered with the effort it took to recount all over again what had happened. Especially to her.
    “Well, I called to let you know the Peterson’s are havin g a BBQ tonight. Your brother will meet us there, and I thought since you’re relatively close you might want to do the same.”
    “Yeah, sure. What time?”
    “Five on wards. Take whatever you’d like to drink. I’ll bring a dish for all of us.”
    Steph scrubbed her hands over her face before she answered. “Right, I’ll see you then.”
    “Bye , dear.”
    She disconnected the call, and flopped back on the bed. The Petersons were family friends, and one bunch she didn’t mind making the time for. Their two