And Daniel had a sinking, sickening feeling that that was exactly what might happen.
Daniel, more conflicted than he had felt in a good long time, did what felt right in the moment- he went for the liquor bottle. Once he got a good drunk on and realized he felt not a whit better, he went to his room, threw on a change of clothes, and dragged his drunk ass to his gym. He spent forty minutes on the treadmill at high speed- sweating the booze out of his system as he stared straight ahead into the goddamn room where Faith had taught her self-defense class.
When he turned the machine down and jumped his feet out to the side panels, catching his breath, he made a plan.
He wasn't going to say it was a particularly good plan.
But it was a plan.
And Sunday, well, they would see how it played out.
THIRTEEN
Faith
"Mi amor," Rodrigo's voice said, at once both amused and concerned, "you keep bleaching, there will be no bar left," he told her after he dropped off two flats of rocks glasses.
"Do I tell you how to do your job?" she snapped and immediately regretted it. But Rodrigo, likely used to quick tempers being in the back near the kitchen and waitstaff, didn't lose his small smile. "Sorry I'm such a bitch."
"Perra?" he mused, then shook his head. "No, princesa, a perra is a crazy woman smashing out your headlights. You, you are someone who is, ah, infelize. Corazon roto. Traicionado."
Unhappy. Heartbroken. Betrayed.
That about covered it.
Except the heartbroken thing.
She was not heartbroken.
Was she angry and upset and maybe borderline psychotic over the whole thing? Sure. But not heartbroken. She didn't get heartbroken. Besides, she hadn't known Daniel long enough to have given even a small piece of her heart to him.
Had she?
No, of course not.
That was ridiculous.
"Unhappy and betrayed. Scratch the heartbroken."
"What'd he do, mi amor? He sleep with your sister? Your best friend? You need me to show him what we do to men who hurt our ladies around here?"
Faith felt her lips tip up in the first genuine smile she had felt in days.
To be perfectly honest, she didn't exactly handle the news well.
And seeing as her bar for overreacting was a bit high, that was saying something.
First of all, she really shouldn't have put her hands on him. Granted, she was pissed and she was hurt and she felt really used, but that created a drama that hadn't been necessary. It also piqued Vin's interest, which was never a good thing.
After that, she had pretty much scared off the rest of the customers with her shitty attitude. Those customers included Xander and K who had come in after they saw Daniel leave and sat to keep an eye on her. They didn't say that, of course, but she knew it when she saw it. What they thought she might do was beyond her.
After they closed, she channeled her energy into cleaning. She wasn't sure if it was some sort of defense mechanism coded into the female DNA or what, but every woman she knew stress-cleaned when they didn't have any way to get ahold of a bad situation.
Then she went home, ripped all the sheets and blankets and pillows off her bed and tossed them. She knew herself. She knew that she was channeling her feelings as much into rage as possible to keep from dealing with the others. But if she climbed in that bed and she smelled his smell on her sheets and pillows, she knew she would lose it.
She wasn't a crier by nature.
She was generally raised on the "suck it up, buttercup" mentality, something she was always grateful for. Tears were useless.
But if she got in that bed and smelled him, there was no way the tears wouldn't come. Even as she stripped the bed and remembered what had transpired there, she felt the stinging in her eyes.
After that was all settled, she showered, took a dose of NyQuil for no other reason but that she needed to pass out and that wouldn't be possible with her mind racing like it was, and she slept on the foot of her bed.
When she woke up, there wasn't much time to think. First, she needed to visit her mom. Then she had a class. And then she needed to get home, get changed, and get to work.
Shower, sleep, repeat.
But as they days passed, it didn't seem to lessen the strange cocktail of emotions she was still having.
It was ridiculous.
She wasn't that girl.
She wasn't the 'cry into a gallon of Ben & Jerry's' girl. She wasn't a 'call your best friend and cry it out' kind of girl. And she damn sure wasn't a pathetic 'mope about it for half a week' kind of girl.
You wanted to screw with her? Fuck you very much and get the fuck out of her life.
She didn't waste time in regrets and second guessing.
But that was exactly what she had been doing when Rodrigo walked up.
"That's sweet, Rodrigo," she said, dropping her rag into the bucket and noticing how red her hands were from the hot water and bleach. The cuts had mostly healed. A few fingers still had some stubborn scabs that were around to stay for at least another few days, but they didn't hurt anymore. She wasn't some masochist soaking her hands in bleach to 'feel the pain' or some bullshit like that. "But that's not necessary."
"I worry about you," he went on, shaking his head. "I know women like you. Mi madre, mi abuela, mi hermana. They're all strong too. But sometimes I think they keep their chins up so high so no one can see the tears in their eyes, cariño."
With that insightful little comment, he moved off, leaving her to remember why she liked him so much more than the other back of the house guys.
"So, I got three calls this morning," Corey said, walking into Lam even though they weren't open for another ten minutes. She was on her way into work as well if her outfit was anything to go by. She had on a skintight wine-colored dress with fishnets and knee-high six-inch heels. Her long black hair was free, as it almost always was, and her eye makeup was on the dramatic side and her lips matched her dress.
"Oh yeah?" Faith asked, having a feeling she knew where the conversation was heading.
"First it was K. Then it was Xander. And lastly, like the men somehow decided that only estrogen could reason with other estrogen, Ellie called." She sat down across from Faith and folded her arms on the very, very clean surface that maybe was missing a bit of the shine it had before she got to work on it earlier. Vin was going to be pissed if they had to re-glaze again already.
"Corey..." Faith said, shaking her head.
"They're worried about you, babe," she said, shrugging. "And, now that I see you, I'm a little worried too. Are you aware you don't have any eye makeup on?" she asked. "I mean, cool if you're trying a new look. But I have been coming here since I was legal and I have literally never seen you without makeup on." Corey watched as Faith turned quickly, looking at the mirror behind the liquor bottles on the back bar and realizing Corey was right. She forgot to put makeup on.
"I was busy today," she defended, not wanting to let on that not all was good. Not since she was first hired did she ever forget to wear makeup at work. It wasn't a big deal that she didn't have it on, but it was a big deal to her that she had so easily overlooked something that was a daily norm for her. What was next? Was she going to forget to brush her teeth? Iron her clothes?
She needed to get a hold of herself.
"Alright, so he was a dick," Corey said, waving a 'what can you do' hand. "We live in the City, babe. Seven million people. A little less than half are men. And a good third of that half are dicks. You know this. It's not like you to let it get to you."
"What, exactly, is so different about me that has everyone worried? I'm not in bed crying. I am working and I'm teaching my classes and..."
"From what I hear," she cut her off, "you're not just teaching your usual classes. You've taken on teaching two extra classes at the women's shelter."
"What can I say, they are suddenly full-up. Lots of strong women escaping shitty relationships. I can'
t teach them all in one class."
"Admit you cared about him," she said, ignoring Faith's comments. Corey, being a strong, work-centered woman herself, knew that not all women took to their beds after a breakup. Women who had careers and passions that were important to them, to cope with bad situations, they just killed themselves with work.
Faith sighed. "I knew him for a week and a half. We had sex twice."
"And?"
"And you can't care about someone after a week and a half."
"You can't?" she asked, screwing up her face a little. "Tell me you didn't love me from day one. And Xander for that matter and K and Gabe and even little, not so little anymore, Ryan. Tell me that and I will accept that."
She was right. Sometimes, you just clicked with people. There was no accounting for it. You talked to them for five minutes and you knew they were going to be a part of your life for a long time in the future. That had happened with Corey when she came in from the club ranting and raving about 'amateur BDSM idiots who didn't have a clue what the BDSM lifestyle really meant'. They clicked. And it happened with Xander and his straight-talking, no nonsense, no holds-barred conversation. It happened with K because they shared a lot in common- trying to help women who needed it. Gabe, well, he was just a sweetheart and a flirt. You had to like him. And Xander, now Gabe's, little protege Ryan was just an incredible kid and then young man.
It was effortless, easy, and from the first couple of minutes- permanent.
Why it was so easy to accept that about friendships but discount it about relationships was beyond her.
"Fine, I cared about him."
"And he lied to you and you feel betrayed. That sucks. You do realize that him lying about, well," she said, looking over at Vin's table, "doesn't necessarily mean he was lying to you, about his interest in you."
"That's a little naive for you, Cor," Faith smiled. But that smile froze on her face as the door opened, right on the dot of the bar technically being open, and someone walked in. "Mother fucker," she hissed, making Corey swivel her head around then turn back to her with a amused smile.
"Oh, damn," she said, shaking her head. "And here I have to take my ass across the street to work. Forget the girls getting their feet licked and the people being suspended from the ceiling- this is the real show here tonight."
"Get out," Faith said, trying to keep emotion out of her tone as Daniel moved to the corner of the bar where he had once told her the security cameras didn't catch.
He didn't seem phased though as he reached for his wallet and waved it. "Paying customer."
"We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone," she said, motioning to the small plaque behind the bar.
"Funny thing about that law," Daniel said, lips curving up in a way she found way too appealing even though she was supposed to be mad at him. "It doesn't mean you can just kick anyone out because you don't like them. It means you can refuse service for reasons that go against dress code or the health code, or if someone is being disruptive. Not liking someone is, unfortunately, not included."
"Well you would know all about the law," she said, tone cold.
He ignored that and stood again, gesturing to himself. "As you can see, I'm in slacks and a dress shirt so I fit the dress code just fine even though Lam routinely serves people in jeans and tees. I am also showered and don't have on cologne so no one can complain that I smell. And I am being perfectly civil. So, sorry, babe, but you're going to have to serve me."
And damn if she didn't. There were no other bartenders to pawn him off to.
He was right too- she had to serve him. He was being quiet and he was dressed nicely. It didn't escape her notice either that he cleaned up really well.
"Don't expect service with a smile," she snapped, grabbing a rocks glass and putting it on the bar.
"From you? Sweetheart, I know better."
"Cut the shit," she said, dropping a glass of gin and tonic at him, not caring if it wasn't what he wanted. "I don't want to hear your pet names and I don't want to have a conversation with you. From this point on tonight, you're allowed to order and ask for your bill and that is fucking it."
With that, she moved back over toward Corey who was standing. "You're just going to leave me in an empty bar with him?" she asked, small-eyeing her friend.
"I have bills to pay and subs to give orders to and hot wax to order..." she said, obviously just making up excuses to leave. Her work could, and on her days off did, function without her. "Have fuuuun," she said, giving Faith a huge smile as she made her way to the door.
Faith pretended to ignore Daniel for the next twenty minutes, all the while being acutely aware of every single movement he made, every time he watched the door or drank from his glass. And, maybe most especially, every time his eyes looked at her. Which, well, was pretty much the entire time she sliced lemons, limes, and strawberries.
Salvatore came in a blessed half an hour later, brows drawn together when he looked at Daniel. "Thought you fired him."
"I did," she said through clenched teeth.
He nodded at that, taking the water she passed to him. "That takes some balls. He knows you could kill him with your pinkie, right?"
Faith's lips turned up, not realizing until that moment how much she really needed a little encouragement. Whether she knew it or not, her confidence had taken a hit over the whole ordeal. How could she not have suspected he could be a cop? She was suspicious of every person she saw inside of Lam. But then there he was with his ability to sneak up on her and disarm Anthony and she went ahead and fell into bed with him. Granted, she had been worried enough to bring Xander and his team in on it, but not worried enough to wait for the damn files.
Amateur move.
"Yeah, if he's smart, he will nurse that drink and not ask me for anything else the rest of the night."
"What'd he do to piss you off, kid?" he asked, obviously not being quite as observant of sexual undercurrents as his father was.
"We just didn't fit," she lied.
They fit almost perfectly. That was the problem, wasn't it? She would have been able to brush it off, move on, let it go, if he had been like any of the other guys she had been with. The fact of the matter was, he was nothing like them. While she always preferred ultra-confident, street-wise, and a bit cool guys pretty much as a rule, each one of them had been lacking in one way or another. One was definitely street-smart but otherwise a complete and utter idiot. One was cool enough to let her do her own thing without question, but was absolutely God-awful in bed. Not even 'eh, I can work with this if he's open to some suggestions' awful. No, he was a two-pump chump who thought he was a sex God.
They all just came up short in some way that she found non-negotiable. Really, her bar wasn't even that fucking high. There were just a lot of losers in a city as big as the one she lived in.
But Daniel, in all his gruff, but caring ways, seamless confidence that was still somehow lacking the typical fragile ego that usually came along with that trait, his training, his goodness, his willingness to let her tell him her secrets at her own pace, yeah, he was as close to perfect as she had ever come across.
They fit.
He was just a liar.
"Shame. You two worked well together. He would have been a good addition."
Except he wanted to take down you, your father, your brothers, and the entire organization.
"Plenty of other bartenders out there. But this time, I'll be the one interviewing."
"Pops know that?" Salvatore asked, smirking in a way that said he knew he didn't.
"Nope. But he will the next time I see him."
"Good luck with that," Salvatore said, saluting her with his water and going to take a seat at his father's back table.
The meeting usually didn't start until seven or eight, always being more of a late dinner. But Salvatore was always early and Vin was usually right behind him, the two sitting and talking shit over before any of the other guys showed up, wanting to show a united
front on all the issues. Anthony would show up ten minutes late and already half-drunk. That was the usual.
What wasn't the usual was the door opening around eight-fifteen and a newly familiar, tall, handsome, dimple-sporting Puerto Rican man walked in.
She felt her blood go cold as her gaze shot to Daniel, accusing.
At seeing her reaction, Daniel's shoulders stiffened further.
And she knew he didn't know she knew about that.
She hadn't exactly been overly talkative about the whole situation. She had only said she had known, not that she knew everything.
The anger welled up again, strong, filling her belly until she felt like she was choking on it.
That was why he was there.
God, she was such an idiot.
A small, stupid, needy, pathetic part of her had been hoping he was there to apologize, to admit he was a dick, to try to make things right, to explain.
But, no. Of course not. He was there because he was still on the job. He was still planning to take down Vin. Losing his position didn't deter him in the least. And while maybe a small part of her admired his perseverance, that part was eclipsed entirely by another stab of disappointment and anger.
"Faith..." he said, lips parting a little helplessly as he slowly stood.
"Outside," she snapped, tossing her rag down on the counter just a mere three inches from a plate of chicken parmesan a bar goer had just started eating.
She stalked around the bar and through the restaurant to the front door. She didn't have to look to know he was following. Of course he was following.
"Baby, listen..."
"Don't fucking baby me, Daniel Harrison," she snapped, shoving a hand into his shoulder, feeling a sense of satisfaction when he went back a step. "You lost that right by fucking lying to me."
"If you would let me ex..."
"What the fuck is Max doing here?" she cut him off, not wanting bullshit words of explanation given not out of genuine regret but an effort to shut her up.
"Faith, I tried to have him pulled out," he said, everything in his tone sounding genuine even to her suspicious ears. "Believe me, I fucking tried. But if you think Vin is a stubborn boss," he said, his tone barely more than a whisper as he took a step closer, making sure no one could overhear, "then you have no idea what it is like to have the government to answer to. They didn't know if he was made so they decided to take the chance."
Dark Secrets (Dark #2) Page 17
