“So how would you help?” she asked, focusing on her drink while her pulse thudded painfully into her temples.
“He could do me a favor from time to time, and I’d pay him for the hassle,” Bo said, his eyes neutral.
What kinds of favors? she wanted to ask. “What’s the catch?”
Bo’s left eyebrow shot up. “That’s the beauty of it.” He glanced up from his next shot. “There isn’t one, unless he’s too stupid to recognize it.”
Cassidy watched the seven ball bounce off the edge of the corner pocket. “Quinn’s not stupid,” she said as her mind blared alarm bells. This is it, she thought, he wants me to convince Quinn to take the deal.
“The offer’s there when he’s ready,” Bo said. “Same goes for you.”
The comment made it through her foggy brain a half-second too late for her to react. Realizing it was her shot, she lined one up, her fingers clammy on the stick. She hit the ball, which bounced feebly off the opposite wall, getting nowhere near her target. She wanted to crumple against the table in frustration.
Bo took over, promptly cleaning up the table.
She realized that it was time for her to go. Something had shifted in his energy, and she couldn’t be sure that it wasn’t her fault.
“Let’s go back to my place,” he said, taking her stick from her shaking fingers.
“Oh, I…uh,” she stammered while her swimmy brain tried to find the right words.
Bo shook his head, his gaze narrowing. “You’re thinking again.” He was so close to her now, dangerously close.
“Not tonight,” she said, trying to keep her panic in check. “But thank you for the drinks, and the lesson,” she added.
He grabbed hold of her hip. “There’s a lot more where that came from,” he said in a low voice. “You sure you’re ready to call it a night?”
She faked a smile. Surely, he could feel her trembling. “I’m afraid so.”
He released her but the haughty look didn’t fade.
Cassidy turned for the door, forcing her legs to move at an even pace.
Outside, she fumbled for her phone to call a ride, her breaths high and fast in her throat. A black Prius glided to the curb. For a moment, she was confused—her ride couldn’t be here already—but the passenger window rolled down two inches to reveal Bruce behind the wheel. He jerked his chin toward the backseat.
Cassidy jumped inside. She buckled her seatbelt and closed her eyes as Bruce pulled away from the club.
“No more,” she said as her pulse continued to slam into her temples. “I can’t do something like that again.”
Bruce’s sharp gaze diverted from the road to the rearview mirror. “What happened?”
Cassidy swallowed the dryness in her throat, wishing she had a glass of water, though putting anything in her stomach right now might not be such a good idea. “It went okay at first. We just talked, played pool. He asked about Quinn.”
“Did he tell you more about his plan?”
Cassidy closed her eyes again, but her head whirled. She lowered her window, squinting at the blast of cool air. “Sort of. He eluded to an investment plan. I questioned him about it, but he seemed totally confident. I think he’s using me to get to Quinn. He mentioned how stubborn he was being.”
“He wasn’t stupid enough to share anything illegal though, was he?”
“He dropped a strong hint.” Cassidy shook her head, but again, her head didn’t respond well.
“What else happened?”
She fought against the memory of Bo’s body behind her, trapping her against the table. But then the rest of them came: his snake-like smile, his hand on her hip, holding her possessively, his offer for more “lessons.”
“Cassidy?” Bruce’s firm voice cut through her tumbling thoughts.
“Stop!” Cassidy said, bracing her feet against the floor. “Stop the car!”
Nineteen
Cassidy finished emptying the contents of her stomach into the weeds. Bruce stood nearby with a box of tissues and a bottle of water.
Cars rushed past them in a dark blur. They must be near the beach; she could smell the dewy salt air.
Still leaning over, she wiped her mouth, then spit. Standing, she let the world come back into focus. Her fingers shook as she cracked the lid of the water.
“I’m sorry,” she said, leaning against the side of the car for support, the hot metal warming her icy skin.
“It’s okay,” he replied, his voice soft. She dared not look at him, afraid of how his compassion would make her feel.
“I need you to tell me what happened,” he said.
Cassidy sipped her water. “Nothing.” She exhaled the tight breath trapped behind her breastbone.
“Well, it’s obviously bothering you,” he said, crossing his arms.
How could she describe the reckless feeling she’d experienced while playing pool with Bo? The powerful buzz from the alcohol had somehow unlocked her loneliness. While Bo’s attention wasn’t welcome, a small part of her had been flattered, and she’d fed it with more alcohol. It was just like before, with Mel. Bruce would never understand.
“Did he hurt you?”
Cassidy shook her head, which protested with a dull thud. “I don’t want to be that person anymore,” she said.
“What person? Cassidy, I don’t understand.”
“You can’t possibly, okay?” she said, almost shouting.
“Cassidy, what the hell happened in there?”
“Nothing!” she said as the emptiness inside her stretched open like a black hole, sucking everything that was good into it. “I just can’t do this anymore.”
He watched her carefully. “The case?”
“Everything,” she said, her molars tapping shut. “What if Bo gets tired of me putting him off?” What if you leave? she wanted to add.
“You have the team,” he said, sounding flustered. “We’re with you all the way. You’re not alone.”
“But I am alone, Bruce,” she cried. “And clearly I’m not strong enough for this.” Cassidy inhaled a slow breath that tickled all the way down into her lungs.
“That’s not what I see,” he said. “You’re so brave, Cassidy. Why can’t you see that?”
Because I was out of control tonight. “Can I go home,
