The way Mindy’s hand flew to her mouth.
Did she see someone dangerous?
Or someone standing up for her?
Red Eyes shifts. “You worried she thinks you’re a hothead. And that she won’t like.”
These guys are awfully wise and insightful for a pair picked up on having too much to drink. “Something like that.”
He shrugs. “Depends on how you handled it.”
Button-Down nods. “You call her after?”
“I haven’t had a chance, exactly.” I let out a humorless laugh. “I was in handcuffs.”
They both grin at that.
The minutes drag.
A couple more guys get brought in — one loudly complaining about “unfair odds,” another still arguing with an officer about who threw the first punch in a different casino.
Vegas does not lack for stories.
Eventually, Red Eyes leans back and says, “You know what matters?”
“What.”
“You didn’t hesitate.”
I glance at him.
“Most guys talk big,” he says. “When it comes down to it, they freeze. You didn’t.”
Button-Up nods. “Women love a man who takes action.”
That sits heavy in my chest.
I think of Mindy in the bathroom mirror earlier tonight. Of the way she stepped up to that creep without waiting for backup. Of the way she told him no.
She didn’t hesitate either.
“I hope she knows that,” I say quietly.
Red Eyes smirks. “If she’s worth your time, she will.”
The holding cell door buzzes.
An officer steps up. “Jesse?”
I stand. “Yeah.”
“You made bail.” The officer gestures toward the desk. “Let’s go.”
I follow him out, heart pounding harder now than it did in the holding cell.
I flex my sore knuckles as we walk. The adrenaline is gone, replaced by a dull ache and a heavier one in my chest.
I expect to see my sister.
