Read Online Dying for Her: A Companion Novel (Dying for a Living Book 3) by Kory M. Shrum - Free Book Online Page A

going to let go of the mug. A gun in one hand and a thick glass mug in the other was better than no weapon at all.
    “Yeah?”
    “Peaches said you won the dart tourney. That true?”
    “Yep,” I said. I measured the kid. 5’11. Thick, calloused hands. Scruffy face and blue eyes. He had the look of a laborer in his jean jacket. Factory work or construction maybe. Either was possible around St. Louis, or maybe he was from Illinois, across the river where rents were cheaper. Plenty of the blue collar boys came over to drink in the bars, though they couldn’t afford a room here.
    “You want to play?” he asked.
    I leaned forward so that the front of my jacket would hang open enough to make the movement casual and slipped the gun back into place.
    “Sure, kid,” I said. I could’ve been a bastard and refused him, but why? I needed to step away from my notes anyway and give the facts a minute to settle in my mind. The words were blurring on the page, and not because I’d had three pints.
    “But let’s keep it simple. I’m working,” I told him. “How about three throws and the one who hits the bullseye most, wins.”
    He grinned as if he’d already won. “All right.”
    First, I repacked the folder and handed it to Peaches for safe keeping.
    “Don’t look at these, or lose them, or I’ll have to kill you,” I warned him. I winked for show, but his laugh was tight. Good ol’ Peaches, he thought I’d actually put a bullet in him. Good. Not that I liked to threaten my friends, but a man was only as good as the threat he could make.
    I kept my eyes on him until he tucked the folder under the register and then I turned to the kid. He had six darts in his hand and gave me three, the ones with red tips on their little green flights.
    I let him go first. He was pretty good. He hit the innermost circle each time, two tips touching the outside edge of the red bullseye and one dead center. With all three stuck, he grinned triumphantly and turned to me. His friends clapped. Then he went to remove his darts.
    “Leave them,” I said.
    “They’re all on the bullseye. It’ll mess up your shot, man.”
    “I’ve got plenty of room,” I insisted.
    Peaches laughed behind me. “Go easy on them, B. It’s too early in the week to be breaking hearts. We’re still getting over Monday. ”
    “I’d like to see you do better,” the kid scoffed. Shit talk. The biggest difference between young pups and old dogs. At some point, you get your ass handed to you enough that you quit talking shit and simply hand it out if you can.
    “Would you?” I asked and smiled at him. “All right.”
    I threw the first dart and bullseye. I threw the second and thumped against the board right beside the first, knocking it to the right a little so the little flights veered in opposite directions, two of his darts fell off the board.
    “Don’t hold back, Danger,” Peaches said, chuckling.
    I winked at the kid and closed my eyes. I visualized the bullseye in my mind and where I wanted the dart to land. Then I exhaled and threw it. I opened my eyes after I heard the thump against the board. My three crowded his dart in the center. It looked threatened and surrounded.
    “Damn. I don’t believe it,” the kid said.
    I slapped him on the back. “Practice kid. It’s just practice.”
    “When the hell did you have that much time for practice?” he asked. “Prison?”
    “You think they give you sharp objects in prison?” I motioned for two more pints. Peaches nodded and pulled out the mugs. “How did you learn?”
    “Pool and darts is a good way to earn cash. I just went around the bars and played the best, learning what I could where I could. You ain’t gotta pay taxes on what you get.”
    “A man has got to eat,” I said and put a pint in his hands. “On me.”
    Cash under the table . He was right. There were plenty of ways for a man to make cash under the table if he was desperate enough. If Sullivan didn’t want anyone’s