Take It On The Run

Chapter 13

POV: Sloan

Truth be told, I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to win the bet after all of Deacon's dark promises—which was good since I'd lost in the end.

He'd spent the entirety of the car ride home gloating about it too.

I should've known better than to challenge him with a bachelorette party in attendance, but I couldn't help myself. When I saw those women pawing him with their cheap, manicured hands, I wanted him to think of me and me alone.

"Don't be a sore loser, sweetness. At least not when I haven't done anything to make you sore yet," Deacon purred from the driver's seat.

"I'm not," I said a little defensively, unbuckling my seatbelt. Quite the opposite. Sinful anticipation filled me at the prospect of him taking me out of the blue.

"Then why are you frowning?"

I honestly didn't realize that I was. "Sorry, I'm just a little out of it, is all. Is it always that busy?"

In addition to the bachelorette party, there had been groups of men dressed in business suits, college students, and wave after wave of what I was now beginning to discern as tourists. Every time I thought I'd gotten a handle on my section, more people inundated the bar.

"It varies," Deacon replied. "It's pretty dead in the off-season when the tourists are gone, but Mardi Gras is a fucking gauntlet."

"When's Mardi Gras anyway?" I asked, already dreading the answer.

"Late February or early March. You just missed it."

Thank god for that. I couldn't imagine working on Bourbon Street during such a chaotic holiday.

"Aw, shucks," I intoned sarcastically. "I'm super broken up about it, if you can't tell."

Deacon chuckled as he exited the vehicle, walking around to open my door. "Don't get too complacent, Sloan. Mardi Gras may be over, but April is one of our busiest months. French Quarter Fest is next week, and Jazz Fest is directly after that."

I sighed. "Of course, it is. Did I mention how spectacular my timing is?"

I had a real knack for moving to the wrong place at the wrong time. I think that's one of the main reasons why The Collectors had yet to catch me. Who in their right mind would move to California during a wildfire or to Florida directly after a major hurricane? No one, that's who.

Deacon tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, using his free hand to close the door behind me. "I know it's a lot, but you have to remember that there's an off-season here. So those of us in the service industry need to work these crazy holidays and events to survive. Most of my bartenders actually fight over those shifts."

I felt like an asshole now for complaining. "You're right. I'm sorry, D. I sound like a spoiled brat. Thank you for giving me a primo shift at the main bar, by the way."

His voice turned husky. "First of all, I like brats. I like them quite a bit, actually." Heat pooled low in my core as I filed that tidbit away for later. "And secondly, I didn't tell you that to make you feel bad, sweetness. I just wanted you to know that New Orleans isn't like most cities. Tourism is our lifeline, and we all have to plan accordingly."

"Well, thanks for being patient with me," I said as he took my hand and began leading me up the driveway.

Aside from a black motorcycle, the only other vehicle parked before the house was a light blue, 70s-style camper van. I was glad to see Sumner hadn't grown out of his hippie phase.

My heart fell a little when I noticed that Reed's sleek, white Mercedes-Benz S-class was absent. I still wanted to talk to the foursome together and sort out what was going on between us. Their schedules made that nearly impossible though.

I suspected Deacon was just as exhausted as me as we silently shuffled up the front steps of the mansion and entered the foyer.

My gaze found Sumner stretched out on the living room sectional beyond, asleep with Misha. I thought about cuddling up with Sum since I hadn't spent much time with him yet, but I'd never make it to my bed if I sat down now. My feet were killing me.

"Poor bastard," Deacon drawled before heading upstairs. "His schedule is even gnarlier than ours."

I followed him, eager to take a shower and catch some z's of my own. When I didn't hear my dog's nails clicking against the floor, I paused abruptly on the stairs. He hadn't left the couch. I turned back toward Sumner and softly ordered, "Misha. Come."

Misha merely lifted his head and gave me a bored look before nuzzling deeper into the cushion and against Sumner's side.

"Traitor!" I scream-whispered.

Deacon laughed at the exchange. "Just leave them be, Sloan."

Unless I wanted to disturb Sumner, I had no choice but to do exactly that.

Deacon stopped on the second-floor landing, pivoting toward me and kissing my brow. "You did a great job today, Sloan."

I felt him shove something into my purse, and I looked down to find a wad of folded bills—all of the tips he'd earned tonight.

"Holy shit, Deacon. I can't take this from you."

"I don't need the money, and I want you to have it." When I opened my mouth to protest, he silenced me with a brief kiss. "It's not up for debate, sweetness. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm late for a hot date with my mattress."

He looked so tired that I let the matter go for now. "Thanks."

"Sweet dreams," he said before disappearing into his room.

I noticed that none of the other bedroom lights were on. Reed was still at the hospital, and Avery was either out and about or sleeping. Probably the latter, given the fact that it was after midnight now. It was impossible to tell, though, since he walked to work and left his bike behind.

For the first time since moving to New Orleans and running into Deacon, I was completely alone.

It felt strange, even though it shouldn't have. So much had changed since my arrival here, since the boys had come careening back into my life.

An insistent voice in the back of my mind told me now was my chance to flee.

I knew they would never let me go. They might even try to hunt me down, but I was an expert in the art of vanishing. I didn't want to leave, but the consequences of staying here were unthinkable. These men would risk their lives for me in an instant, and I never wanted it to come down to that. I didn't want to be alive in a world where the four of them no longer existed.

But I was completely unprepared for another cross-country move. I had some savings, but changing cities again would clean me out. On top of that, I was exhausted from work, and my car was across town.

I sat on my bed, debating what I should do for over an hour before sleep finally took me.