Brock didn't answer. He couldn't. The anger surging through him was so strong that his vision blurred and his hands fisted into ball that wanted to punch something hard. Memories of the night ten years ago assaulted his mind. His father had died thanks to a meth-head, who was probably just as much a victim as these two young people they just found beside the trailer. And for what? For some organized crime thug to line his pockets with cash?
The police were doing everything they could, but to Brock, it wasn't enough. There had to be a way for Brock or his shifter friends to help. He could, after all, rely on senses no officer on the force had. Heightened senses. Strong intuition that never led him astray. If anyone could track a criminal down it was a shifter. There’d be hell to pay if the Chief found out he was interfering with a police investigation, but Brock had seen enough. He wrapped up his conversation with Haverty and stalked off to each of the trucks to help pack up if needed.
It was time to find out more about Rhys Dillon. If Brock could help it, no one else in Sparks would fall victim to the suspected drug lord.
9
Sky tapped her nails on the wide window sill that opened in the kitchen. Frankie, the Steak and Ale Saloon night cook, was almost ready with her two orders of French fries. She snuck a look over her shoulder. Table one had set their menus down, and seemed eager to order. Table three was low on water and soda. Table six just had another friend join them.
Would it be better to go back out to the floor and take some orders? If she did she'd probably get stuck out there filling up drinks for everyone. By the time she got back to the kitchen table two's fries would no doubt be cold.
“Order up!” Frankie yelled.
“Thank God,” Sky breathed. She snatched up the two baskets and spun around, nearly bumping into Stephanie.
“Whoa there, cowgirl!” the brunette waitress yipped.
“Sorry.”
The other girl gave a weak smile. “Busy night.”
“Tell me about it.”
Sky scurried off with the fries. Tonight’s shift was crazy from the minute she'd walked in. It was stressful, but at the same time, she welcomed it. Being busy got her mind off of other things. Like Brock.
She still couldn’t get over the other night. He had blown her mind and rocked her world—hard—and then just upped and left like it was no big deal. Sky hadn't been with a lot of men since dropping out of college, but the few she did date before meeting Brock showed no qualms whatsoever about sleeping over.
He needs time. That's all.
Sky snorted out loud, scoffing at that part of her that wanted to give him a chance. Time for what, exactly? How could he expect her to wait for him, then show up, take what he wanted and leave again? What would time do anyway?
“Here you go,” she said cheerily, pushing down her frustration as she deposited the fries at a couple’s table. “Can I get you folks all anything else?”
“No thanks,” the man said, smiling up at her. The guy's wife gave him a glare before he reined the enthusiasm back in.
Sky turned away. She had other customers to attend to and didn't need to stand there and watch a marital spat take place. Heading back to the bar, she grabbed a water pitcher to do a round of filling glasses while simultaneously taking orders. The bell on the front door jingled, and by habit she glanced over.
Holy crap.
It was the man from the other night. Rhys Dillon. This time he wore a pale pink button up and dark pants. He didn't look around the saloon. The picture of confidence, he glided across the room and slid into an empty booth.
An empty booth in Sky's section.
Did he somehow know which tables she was always working?
Sky sighed. She couldn't deal with the man. Not tonight.
“Crystal,” she called, stopping the middle-aged waitress hurrying by.
“What's up, hun?” Crystal rasped in her smoker's voice.
“You see that guy who just sat in my section? Can you do me a favor and take him? I can pick up one of your tables if you like.”
“Sure thing, baby doll. Table nineteen just got seated. Go for it.”
“Thanks,” Sky breathed.
With the present mini-crisis taken care of, she booked it towards the booths to fill up waters. The whole time she pointedly kept her gaze on the customers in front of her, making sure to not look at Rhys Dillon. If he was staring at her she didn't want to know.
She was putting a ticket into the kitchen when Crystal walked up.
“The man says he only wants you to serve him.”
Sky's shoulders fell. All she could do was stare at Crystal. “Seriously?”
“Don’t complain. The man’s hot.”
Sky sighed. “Yeah, I noticed. Fine.” She tucked her order pad back into her apron and headed for Rhys' table. If he tried to flirt with her, or mention anything about his offer from the other night, she would just politely turn him down. And if he kept insisting, she would get firm with him.