He pulls up alongside a luxury, Balinese-style restaurant alongside his brothers' motorbikes and Flick's and Stacey's scooters and turns off the ignition. I watch his hands squeeze the rubber around the handlebars, his body hot and tight. When I bounce off the bike, I swivel around to face him, but he's still staring deadpan at the gravel ahead of his tyre. Usually, I'd be inclined to ask what's wrong, but if I've learnt anything from Max Butcher over these past few weeks, it's that I shouldn't—at least not right now.
With a long, deep sigh, Max finally swings his leg over and we walk side by side into the restaurant. There are no walls, only piers. Everything in Bali merges the outside world with the inner. Candles flicker on tables. Everyone is reddened by the humidity. He stops at the cane bar and a lady hurries over to him, bowing her headslightly.
"Whiskey. Whatever. And—" He stares at me, his eyes blank.
I force a smile. "Um, a glass of champagne,terima kasih."
She places a whiskey in front of him and he throws it back. Dropping the glass on the counter, he raises his fingers to indicate he wants another. After she hands it over, I follow Max towards a private canopy across the lily pond, where I see Xander, Stacey, Flick, Bronson, Luca, and... a stunning blonde woman I recognise. I halt for a moment. It's the girl from my birthday. The one who was outside the front of my house. The one who had slapped Max so hard across the face.
Flick taps the seat beside her and Max positions himself opposite me. His eyes look bored, but his jaw tics like crazy. Five pairs of eyes stare at me, making my breaths whirl around in my chest.
Flick wraps an arm around my shoulders while she grins at Luca. "This is my sister, Cassidy."
"Cassidy. My sons are so rude for not introducing you before," Luca says with a smile. "Thank you for joining us. Clay has told me you'll be dancing on Friday?" He has a subtle accent – Italian, I presume.
I nod and speak quietly. "Yes."
"Jimmy speaks very highly of you," Luca says, his opal-blue eyes an intense beauty set into a hard, worn face.
"He's been very generous," I say, shuffling in my seat.
The blonde woman smiles wryly. "Is that all you're doing?"
I cough on my champagne. "I'm sorry, what?" My mouth drops open and I stare directly across at Max, who is seething.
"Dancing? Is that all you're doing?" She raises a pencil-drawn blonde brow at me. Her elbow is on the table as she nurses her white wine glass. Long, red fingernailswrap around the stem. I wrinkle my nose as I smell her abundantly applied perfume.
"Ya know what? I hate poker," Bronson states loudly, causing everyone to turn and look at him. "If you count cards, you're a cheat, but if you don't, you’re literally guessing. What's the point? There's no skill in it. I don't care what people say. It's just fuckin' luck."
The blonde leans back in her seat. "It's a game of intimidation, Bronson."
He's animated when he says, "Ya know what... I don’t like blackjack either."
She curls her lips up in disgust. "What's gotten into you?"
He leans across the table to me and whispers, "Give me another game?"
I brush my fingers through my hair. "Roulette?"
"Or roulette!"
"Alright, Bronson." Luca lifts his hand. "Thank you for that... Well, it's lovely to meet you, Cassidy." He smiles. "I'm proud my boys keep such beautiful company."
The blonde sneers and I narrow my eyes at her, a million words knocking at my tongue.
Stacey stands up abruptly. Collecting her clutch from under her seat, she looks at me kindly. "I've just remembered I owe you a shot. I never had one with you on your birthday."
I blink up at her and then across to a wide-eyed Flick. "Okay."
She holds a hand out to me. "Come on. Excuse us."
As we walk away, she squeezes my hand. "She hates me too."
"Who?" I say, my breathing still laboured. "Who is she?"
When we stop at the bar, Stacey tilts her head at me and says, "She's their mum."
"What?" I wince, hurting for Max and his brothers. I've never wanted to hit a person. Not once in my whole life, and she slapped her own son so hard. My forehead feels hot. I glare over Stacey's shoulder at Max's mum, who is scowling at her own boys. "She's so young."
