Chapter Text
The eight ball dropped into the corner pocket with a clack. Deanna straightened, setting the end of her cue on the floor. “Looks like I win, boys.” She flicked her honey brown hair off her shoulder.
The two men at the other end of the pool table gaped. The shorter one looked like he was waiting for the punch line. Maybe he expected the eight ball to hop back out of the pocket like a rabbit out of a hat. The other scowled and tossed his cue onto the table. The remaining balls skittered and clicked together, two of them dropping into the side pocket. Probably the best shot he’d made all night. “You cheated.”
It was nearly impossible to keep the smirk off her face. Sore loser. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She batted her eyelashes, wondering if she’d remembered to put on extra lip gloss when she hit the bathroom the last time. Not that it would matter. These guys didn’t look the type to get buttered up by a sexy pout and an impressive showing of cleavage. Best to cut and run.
Deanna reached for the stack of bills fanned out on the edge of the pool table. Not quite fast enough. As her hand closed around the money, a set of callused fingers closed around her wrist, wrenching her backwards. The sore loser obviously had no intention of letting things go.
“You’re not taking that money, bitch.”
Deanne’s smile dropped for the first time. They always went straight to bitch. Always had to get rude. She looked down at the beefy hand on her arm. They were almost the same height but the guy was twice as big around. “You wouldn’t hit a girl, would you?” she asked with another bat of her eyelashes.
“You’re not much of a girl,” he grumbled but his eyes raking over her body said something else entirely.
Deanna fought down a shudder. This was going to require an extra shower. He stank of beer and summer sweat. Then Mr. Cranky pried the crinkled money from Deanna’s fingers and shoved her hard into the faux wood paneled wall. Her shoulder hit the rack of cues with a clatter. “Now get outta here before I change my mind.”
Deanna smiled. “Sucker.”
The guy never saw the kick to the balls coming. Or the right hook that followed close behind. He hit the floor a second later still cupping his abused crotch.
“I’ll take that.” She snatched the money out of his thick fingers, tucking it into her bra and dodging a clumsy grab from his friend. At least he was slower on the uptake than his friend was. Either that or drunker than he looked.
He staggered after her like a zombie, tripping on his downed friend and grabbing for the pool table to keep from falling on his face. “Get back here, bitch.”
Deanna rolled her eyes. If he was going for persuasion, he failed miserably.
He got his legs working again at the same time as he remembered the discarded pool cue. He snatched it off the green felt. The look in his eye left no doubt about his intent to hit a homerun with her head.
“Oh shit,” Deanna said.
..........
The lights were off but Sam was easy to pinpoint by the sound of his thin, whistling snore. Deanna tugged off her heels and tiptoed closer. Sam was on his side, toes dangling off the edge of the too small bed. Nice to see he’d waited up.
“Rise and shine, Sammy!” she yelled into his ear, laughing as Sam tried to sit up and roll over at the same time. He tangled in the sheets, hitting the floor with a thud instead.
His head popped up over the side of the bed like a pissed off prairie dog. “What the hell?” Sam yanked the chain on the bedside lamp so hard it almost tipped over. The yellowish light didn’t do anything for his scowl or the Grand Canyon sized crease in his forehead. “Where have you been?”
Deanna chucked her heels across the room and flopped onto her bed. It creaked under the sudden weight, a spring jabbing her in protest. “We needed money.” She tossed the stack of bills at Sam’s chest. When he didn’t bother to catch them they fluttered to the floor in a pile. “Besides, who can sleep around here with you snoring all the time?”
“I don’t snore, Deanna,” Sam snapped, corners of his mouth dipping even lower. “I thought you were done scamming guys after what happened last time.” He paused. “Next time I’m coming with.”
“Hell no! People always think you’re my boyfriend. It’s creepy. Anyway, how was I supposed to know those assholes would actually hit a girl? Whatever happened to chivalry?”
“They almost killed you.”
Deanna shrugged and lay back, hands folded behind her head. “I don’t see you coming up with any better ideas. My feet are killing me.” She slanted a hopeful look over at Sam. “Rub ‘em for me?”
Sam’s lips twitched but he clamped down on the beginnings of the smile. “No.”
“Bitch.”
“Jerk.”
“You should have seen it tonight though. Guy tried to hit me with a cue and--”
“Deanna,” Sam cut in.
“Yeah?”
“It’s three in the morning. We just got our asses kicked by a swamp monster--”
“Speak for yourself, Sammy.”
“—and I’m tired. Tell me tomorrow,” Sam finished without acknowledging the interruption.
Deanna rolled her eyes. “Fine.” She turned off the bedside light, watching the ceiling as it disappeared into shadow. “It was awesome though.”