Pretty Little Lies Read online

  I froze like a deer in the headlights, eyes darting frantically around the room. Maybe they didn’t have servers here. I hadn’t seen a single waitress on the way in. Maybe the women here did both jobs. Could I do that—take my clothes off in front of dozens of strangers? My empty gas tank told me I had to do something. I was getting desperate for money, and I was willing to do whatever I had to—within reason. Glitter in unmentionable places I could deal with, but sharing underwear? That’s where I drew the line. “Um... no. Just looking for the bathroom. Sorry to bother you.”

  Turning on a heel, I strode out of the room and headed back down the hall the way I’d come. A wiry little man stepped out of a doorway to my left, and I reared back to avoid slamming into him. “Oh! I’m sorry, excuse me.”

  I started to duck around him, but he threw a look over my shoulder in the direction I’d just come. His gaze narrowed, and he held up a hand. “What’re you doin’ back here?”

  “Um...” I wrung my hands together, eager to get out of there. “I was just leaving. Sorry to bother you.”

  “Hold up,” he said when I started to step away.

  I took a tiny step back and met his eyes.

  He studied me for a long second. “You lookin’ to dance?”

  I shook my head. “No, I... I’d hoped to find the owner and ask about waiting tables or something, but...”

  I trailed off, and the man waited a moment. “Well, ya found me.” He extended an arm toward the office he’d just vacated. “Come in for a sec.”

  I bit my lip. If he was willing to let me wait tables, I should at least hear him out. Dragging my feet, I skirted him and stepped into the office, then took a seat on the edge of a grungy blue plastic chair.

  The man rounded the desk and took a seat. “Name’s Jimmy.”

  “Giul—” I halted midword and swallowed. “Jules. My name is Jules.”

  His eyes narrowed for a second, and he steepled his hands together. “Yer looking for a job?”

  I nodded and folded my hands in my lap. “Yes, please. I’m... new here.”

  “Uh-huh.” His gaze slid over me again, sending a little shiver of unease down my spine. I felt dirty just sitting here, but I forced myself to stay still. “How old are ya?”

  “Twenty,” I lied. It was close enough.

  “Gotta be twenty-one to serve,” he stated. “Plus, I don’t really need a waitress. Most of the girls rotate.”

  Apparently one year made a hell of a difference in this industry. “I promise I’ll do my best if you just give me a chance.”

  I didn’t bother to mention that my birthday actually was only a few days from now. But I would be twenty, not twenty-one. I swallowed hard and prayed that he wouldn’t see through my ruse.

  He leaned forward and pressed his palms flat on the desk. I shifted uncomfortably as his eyes moved to where I’d swept my bangs over my temple, shielding the bruise that was still an ugly shade of purple. His gaze dropped to my long sleeves, then skated up my arms and over my neck before meeting mine again. “Do I need to worry about him showing up?”

  I flushed, hot all over, humiliated that he’d so accurately summed up the situation. He probably thought I was running from a boyfriend or husband, but his assumption was close enough. I shook my head. “N-no. He doesn’t know where I am.”

  He sighed heavily through his nose, then lifted a hand to point one finger at me. “This is my business. If he shows up and starts shit, yer out on yer ass, ya hear me?”

  I nodded shakily. “Yes, sir.”

  He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Ya got anything else to wear?”

  I eyed the long black sleeves and black yoga pants I’d changed into in a gas station bathroom this morning. I didn’t want to expose the marks still evident on my wrists and upper arms. “Not yet.”

  He ran his tongue over his teeth. “Fine. But I’m doin’ ya a favor, don’t forget it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Mickey will show ya the ropes. The bartender,” he clarified at my look of confusion. “Talk to him. First, though”—he held up a finger and pointed at my head—“go get some makeup to cover that up. No need to advertise it.”

  “Thank you.” I scurried out of the room before he could change his mind. It occurred to me that we hadn’t discussed hours or pay, but at that moment, I didn’t even care. I was just happy to have a position that didn’t involve taking my clothes off or sharing underwear with another woman.

  I hesitantly made my way back into the dressing room area and found Shirlene. I explained what I needed, and she directed me to a vanity in the corner. She quickly—and heavily—lined and shadowed my eyes and expertly applied coverup over the bruise on my temple.

  “Son of a bitch,” she rasped out sotto voce.

  “What?” I darted a look around her to the mirror.

  “The good-for-nothin’ asshole who put this here.” She stood back and surveyed me, hands on her hips. “Good as it’s gonna get. Men,” she sneered, shaking her head. “Can’t live with ’em. Can’t shoot ’em.”

  Her snarky dose of wisdom nearly caused me to choke. I thanked her and scooted out before I was subjected to any more fighting over thongs.

  During the past forty-five minutes, another handful of patrons had trickled in, and they tossed curious glances my way as I cut across the room to the bar.

  I introduced myself to Mickey, and he gave me a crash course in waiting. He would pour all the drinks; all I had to do was deliver them. The next hour slipped away, more men gathering around the bar and the stage.

  “Ah, shit.”

  My gaze jumped to Mick, who had turned toward the front door. “What’s wrong?”

  Pausing in the act of drying a glass, he tipped his head toward a long-legged man who’d just entered the club. “Darren Murphy. Sabrina’s ex. He’s a real piece of work.” He put the glass on the rack. “Asshole better not start any shit tonight.”

  I glanced at the man, who was currently striding toward the stage, a lilting wobble to his step. My jaw dropped open in disbelief. “Is he... drunk?”

  Mick snorted. “Better question is, when isn’t he?”

  I watched as Darren took a seat at the very front of the stage, wedging himself between two larger men.

  I made a mental note to avoid the man as much as possible as I loaded up the drinks and carried them over to the stage. I dodged grabby hands and kept a healthy distance between myself and the drunk man seated at the corner of the stage. The music faded as one dancer finished up and strolled off the stage, hips rolling. How she managed to walk like that in the five-inch heels, I had no idea, but I’d developed a deeper level of respect for these girls over the past hour.

  The first strains of “Hot For Teacher” blared from the speakers, and a new girl came out. Heavily made up, I couldn’t tell who it was. I placed a few more drinks in front of the men as the woman started her set. A man to my left whistled, and Darren jumped to his feet. “You looking at my girlfriend, asshole?”

  My head swung back and forth between the two men. I was pretty sure everyone in here was watching Sabrina, but I assumed common sense wasn’t the man’s best friend. I could see from the expression in his eyes that he was itching for a fight.

  Not one to be intimidated, the man to my left shoved his chair back and stood. “More than lookin’. I fucked the slut last night.”

  Oh, shit.

  My eyes widened and I took a step backward as they exploded into motion. Shouts broke out as the men rushed each other. The rest of the men joined in, and a chair went sailing across the room.

  I darted toward the bar. “Mick! What do we do?”

  “I’ll handle it. I warned that stupid shit,” Mickey muttered as he pulled himself up and over the bar and threw himself into the fray. Taking advantage of Mick’s absence, the few men at the bar reached across, grabbing bottles of liquor and pouring themselves beer from the taps.

  “Hey! Stop!” I yelled as one clambered over the
bar.

  On stage, Sabrina was screaming, but the men showed no signs of calming down. For a long moment I stood helplessly. I’d never experienced anything like this before. I shook off the fog. Jimmy would know what to do. I sprinted out from behind the bar toward the back offices. The mass of men had spread out, and I dodged them as I ran.

  I ducked behind a table to avoid flying fists and broken wood from smashed tables and chairs. The table moved as a couple of men crashed into it, splintering the wood, and I jumped out of the way. A small scream suspended itself in my throat as a pair of strong arms caught me around the waist, lifting me off my feet and stopping my heart in my chest.

  Chapter 4

  Eric

  “Code 24 in progress at the Fox Hole.”

  I touched the button on my radio. “On it, Central. I’m about a mile out.”

  Lucy from dispatch recognized my voice. “10-4, Sheriff. All available units report for backup.”

  A road came into sight just up ahead on my right, and I whipped the SUV in that direction, pressing down on the pedal. Gravel flew as I slid to a stop and flung open the door. Stepping inside the club, I quickly assessed the melee. Across the room, a small woman cowered behind a table, and I bolted forward.

  I caught the tiny brunette around her waist just in time and yanked her against my chest. I quickly turned to shield her as part of a table landed where she’d been standing just seconds ago. She fought like a wildcat against my hold, and I bent my head to speak next to her ear so she could hear me over the din.

  “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  She felt light as I scooped her into my arms, already striding away from the dangerous group of men. Her long brown hair brushed the back of my hand where it tumbled down her back. I swiftly carried her toward the back of the club and dropped her onto her feet. I kept a hand on her shoulder to steady her, and her beauty hit me like a ton of bricks as she turned to face me. Jesus. She was even more gorgeous up close. Giant green eyes stared up at me, and I forced myself to let go of her. “You good?”

  She looked scared out of her mind, vulnerable as hell, but she managed a shaky nod. I wanted to reassure her that everything would be okay, but there would be time for that later. “Good. Stay here out of the way.”

  With that, I rushed back into the sea of bodies, ducking swinging arms and flying objects as I shoved between two men. I heard the front doors fly open, and two of my deputies joined in, pulling the men apart and slapping cuffs on. Pain exploded in my cheekbone as an elbow came out of nowhere. Whirling around, I reached for the asshole who’d gotten the drop on me and planted my fist in his face. He got one cheap shot in before I laid his ass out on the floor of the bar. Less than five minutes later, the dust had settled, and all the men were lined up on the floor beside the stage wearing identical sulky expressions. There was no way I could haul all of them to jail. I didn’t have enough cruisers or patience to deal with this shit tonight.

  I gestured to my deputies. “Start interviewing and see who initiated it, then take him in. Let the rest go.”

  They nodded and split up, working their way down the line. I turned away and caught sight of myself in the mirror running behind the bar. A trickle of blood ran down from my lower lip, and I brushed it away as I scanned the room, looking for the girl.

  Gone.

  Disappointment hit me that I wouldn’t see her again before I left. She was probably tucked away in the back, somewhere she would be safe.

  I rested my hands on my duty belt and lifted my chin at Riley as he approached.

  “Story’s the same across the board. They all say Murphy started it.”

  I barely refrained from rolling my eyes. Would that asshole never learn? “Have Hawkins take him in.”

  Riley strode away, and I caught the owner’s squirrely gaze. “Keep your clients under control, Jimmy.”

  He nodded. “Squeaky clean around here, Donahue.”

  I seriously doubted that. Exhaustion tugging at me, I strode out the door and climbed into the cruiser. Murphy glared out the rear window as Hawkins pulled out of the parking lot, and I followed suit. At the intersection, he turned left to head south, and I turned right, heading toward Pine Ridge.

  My turn signal clicked in the background as I turned into the gas station parking lot and pulled up next to the gas pump. Shutting off the engine, I ran my hands over my face and winced at the pain when I grazed my cheek. I started the pump and rubbed my hands together in the brisk air as I glanced around.

  A small, light blue car parked just behind the convenience store gave me pause. It was backed in, partially obscured by the building and the trees of the forest behind it. The owner’s car was parked along the opposite side of the store, where he always parked. The hairs on the back of my neck lifted, and I replaced the nozzle as the gas pump kicked off.

  Pulling the flashlight from my duty belt, I slowly approached the car, sticking close to the building for safety. Though it was mostly dark on this side of the building, all the artificial light obscured from view, a shaft of moonlight fell from the sky and penetrated the windshield. I took in the tiny form curled up on the driver seat. Knees pulled up to her chest, arms tucked in close to her body, long brown locks tumbling around her head. My heart hit the dirt at my feet. I didn’t have to see her face—I knew.

  Electric green eyes wide with fear snapped to mine as I gently rapped on the window. Her hands fumbled with the keys in the ignition and she turned it over a click so she could roll down the window a couple inches.

  “Did I do something wrong, Officer?”

  I didn’t miss the bags of clothing in the back seat or the toothbrush and cup in her cupholder. I returned my gaze to hers. “Can I see your registration?”

  Her face crumpled and she bit her lip as she gave a little shake of her head. I arched a brow. “License?”

  She stared me dead in the eye before quietly shaking her head. “Get your things and come with me.”

  Her gaze dropped to the nameplate on my chest. “Officer Donahue—”

  “Sheriff,” I corrected, unsure exactly why I needed to distinguish the difference.

  She bit her lip. “Sheriff Donahue. Have I done something wrong?”

  I stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded by her ridiculous question. The girl obviously had nowhere to go, no driver’s license, and I seriously doubted the car was legally registered. I didn’t know the whole story, but I didn’t need to. She was safer with me than anywhere else. “It’s already below freezing. I can’t let you stay out here by yourself.” She started to protest, but I cut her off. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

  Her face fell, but she rolled the window up, and I barely bit back my sigh of relief as she turned the car off and pushed the door open. I helped her gather her things, and we carried them back to my SUV. I opened the door to toss her things in the back, and she started to slide in after them.

  She flinched as I touched her arm, and I quickly released her. “Ride up front.”

  She shot me a questioning glance but didn’t argue. Moving off to the side, she watched as I closed the back door, then held the passenger door open for her. With a murmured thanks, she climbed inside.

  Chapter 5

  Giuliana

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  My pulse pounded as I clicked the seat belt into place. Was he going to take me to jail? Oh, God. “Are you arresting me?”

  He paused, his hand resting on the gear shift. “Should I?”

  Considering he’d just found me in a vehicle without a valid license or registration and I’d fled from a fight?

  I shook my head. “No, sir.”

  He studied me for a long moment. “Okay.”

  Okay? What the hell did that mean? Anxiety warred with relief, twisting my stomach into knots. I wanted to push, ask what he meant by that, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. He put the car in gear and pulled away from the gas pump, then steered onto the main drag. The tree-lined road was dar
k and empty, and it sent a flurry of butterflies kicking up in my stomach. A layer of snow clung to the thick boughs, and it somehow managed to look both beautiful and ominous at the same time. The desolate stretch of asphalt solidified just how isolated this place really was.

  There’s no such thing as a good cop. My uncle’s words came back to me, and my heart began to hammer away in my chest. I’d been sheltered from my family’s business for most of my life, but I knew one thing: cops and members of la famiglia did not mix. The phrase he’d actually used still sent a shiver down my spine—the only good cop is a dead one.

  My stomach roiled at the thought. I knew my family weren’t good people, not technically speaking. Though I didn’t know all the details, I knew that Daddy had died at the hands of the police officers and agents who had shown up to the raid that awful night three years ago. Still, I couldn’t quite grasp the hatred that my family held for the men and women who upheld the law. They were people too and didn’t deserve to die any more than my father had. Why should they be persecuted for doing their jobs? In fact, my family had worked with more than one crooked cop or politician, but, in their eyes, that was perfectly acceptable—because it suited their objectives.

  This man, though... I studied him from the corner of my eye. It hadn’t really sunk in earlier how big he was. Broad shoulders that filled half the cab of the SUV; his arms and chest looked like those of bodybuilders I’d seen on TV. He was sheriff of the town, that much I knew—but I also knew that men in the highest positions were often the most corrupt. I promised myself when I left my uncle’s house that I would never let a man have that kind of control over me ever again. The sheriff struck me as a man not to be trifled with. I’d yet to see him smile or offer anything other than mild concern. I couldn’t read him, and that made him dangerous in more ways than one.

  I shifted uncomfortably and turned to face him, pressing my back against the door to put as much distance between us as possible. “Where are we going?”