Free Sovereign Ground (Breaking Bonds) by Hilarey Johnson Page B

shoulders.
    “Uh-oh.” The bartender flashes a brilliant smile
offset by his dark skin. “We’ll have to fix that.” He puts three glasses on the
counter and has them filled in the time it takes him to say his name. “I’m
Trey.”
    “Baby.”
    “Nice to meet you. Want me to take those?”
    I look down at my tray. “Sure.” When I reach over,
he takes the platter with one hand, and with his other, he strokes my fingers.
I gasp a little, surprised both that he did it and how good it feels. I look up
into his flirting, black eyes. He has super curly hair that shines under the
lights. I can’t stop smiling, so I look down.
    Only one shot glass is left on the counter. It
looks like it’s filled with water. Talia and the crazy-eyed, skinny girl hold their
glasses, waiting for me. I lift mine to my lips. It smells like toothpaste and
tastes like gum on fire. They both drink it in one gulp. It takes me two. Talia
turns and waltzes away.
    “I have a private dance now. Bring me another in
10 minutes.” She holds all her fingers up like a drunk school teacher, turns,
and weaves her way through the crowd.
    “You gotta watch Jewels.” Trey points at the
stoned girl with his chin. So that was her name. Trey hands me back the empty
platter. “Wait at least a half hour before you take her another.”
    Trey chats while he pours drinks and wipes the
counter. He talks about sports and the weather, impersonal stuff. I lean
against the bar, listening to his deep voice. My typical inability for
conversation again overwhelms. I can’t catch all the words, but I like the
soothing cadence. I’m warm all over. I guess I should go ask the dancers what
they want to drink, but Trey’s my pied piper.
    The music fades then starts with a building,
anticipating rumble. The lights dim and the stage in the center illuminates. Brody’s
voice taunts over an intercom. He introduces Bella. Lights swirl, adding to my
disorientation. When they stop, Cori stands feet apart, arms at her sides and
her head raised to the ceiling. She wears a skintight, black bodysuit. Her mesmerizing
dance, choreographed to exotic drums, alternates bursts of flame and removing
parts of her outfit. There couldn’t be anything more exciting than this, even
in Las Vegas. Blasts of heat spew from the flames.
    In the end, she stands nearly uncovered, just a
string thing on the bottom, and the dragon tattoo on her back. The snake-like
body curves up her spine in black and teal. She turns and rests her chin
against the dragon claw on her shoulder. Her blonde spikes fall over her eyes
the same time as the last beat. She’s so good she choreographed her hair. There
is a hush before everyone claps and the lights increase.
    I want to be near Cori but there is too much crowd.
I tap on a bare shoulder; it remains unyielding. I push. The woman finally
moves and I weave through the throng, like a termite in a stump. My efforts
leave a path behind me, but I have to force it. When I get to the stage, only
that familiar combination of perspiration and alcohol await me, not Cori.
    A tickle slinks across my shoulder blade and up my
neck. I hold myself rigid, and start to turn. Just slightly above my line of
sight are the hazel eyes from the other night. His head looks freshly shaved,
no sign of the dark stubble I saw before.
    “Don’t run away again.”
    He seizes my elbow more firmly than necessary. I
try to pull my arm away, but that causes his fingers gripping my elbow to rest
against my ribs. By pulling back, I have just brought him closer. His crooked
nose flares a little when he smiles.
    “Can I get a Jack Daniels?” He holds a new twenty
in his free hand. It’s folded length-wise and floats in front of me like bait, like
I’m a fish to be hooked. I hate that twenty.
    “All drinks are on the house tonight.”
    “Run and get me one.” He drops the twenty on my
tray and pats my bottom like I’m a child. Maybe not exactly like a child. “I’ll
wait for you behind the