When Brick lines up ten shot glasses on the counter I smile. “Drink much?”
“Tonight we do.”
Yeah, I won’t argue. We’re pretty much alone now. I can hear a few women laughing in the kitchen, but it appears the rest of the guests have gone home or maybe outside. Another thing to be thankful for. I never enjoyed big crowds, not after being put on display for so long by Sammy.
Expecting whiskey, I’m surprised when Brick proffers a bottle of Jägermeister. “This will make you forget everything, Starlet.”
“If it doesn’t kill me first.”
He fills the shot glasses, then sets the bottle aside. “Ladies first.”
Choosing the sixth and seventh shots from the lineup, Brick waits for me to drink first. It burns my throat but I don’t care. I pluck another one from the bar, happy Brick is matching my pace now. I usually don’t drink to get drunk, but Brick is absolutely right. Sometimes you have to cut loose. Sometimes you have to wash away your sins and bad memories with alcohol, because the come to Jesus thing isn’t working for me—though I’d like it to.
Brick is about to refill them when the doors to the conference room open. Eagle nods at us and I know it’s time for the vote.
Brick murmurs something unintelligible before he rests his hand over mine. “No matter what happens, Starlet, I’m on your side. I wouldn’t offer the Devil’s Crusaders a fucking thing.”
I believe him, but he only gets one vote. “Thank you.”
He kisses the top of my head and stalks away, not looking happy. What I’d give to be a fly on the wall inside that room.
