Tough Guy: A Hero Club Novel by Jamie Schmidt (e book reader free .txt) 📕

the Strip. I’d appreciate it if you don’t mention that bit of information to anyone. It could literally cost him his life.”

“That’s a convenient story,” she said.

I shook my head. “You can believe me or not. I don’t give a fuck.”

“I want to believe you,” Jackie said. She placed her hand on my arm. I shook her off, still too pissed at her to want her touch. I knew this was a bad idea. I should have gently tossed her fine ass out of my club instead of letting her shake it on stage and I definitely shouldn’t have fucked her over a desk. I should have taken my time with her in bed. Because that was all I could think about now. How it was all fucked up and it would have been so damn good.

“You don’t have to take me to Pahrump,” she said quietly.

I pulled over to the side of the road, amidst the blaring of horns. “Do you want me to go with you or not?”

“Yes. Yes, I want you to come with me to Pahrump. Yes, I want to believe you’re not a drug dealer. And yes, I still want to fuck your brains out.”

My lips twitched. “You couldn’t have led off with that last one?” And just like that the anger simmered down to a mild irritation. I got back on the road.

“Here’s the thing,” Jackie said, and I couldn’t wait for what was going to come next. “We missed a few steps in our courtship. I’m not complaining, because I liked what happened. But I know nothing about you that hasn’t come from the Internet. How would I know you weren’t a drug dealer?”

“Fair enough.” I shrugged. “The Internet has most of it. What holes do you want me to fill in?”

“Are we still talking about sex? Because all of them.”

“All?” I drawled. The day was looking up. Another notch of tension eased in my back. Maybe this situation wasn’t completely fucked up.

“Why did you come back to Las Vegas? You looked like you were living the dream in Ibiza, London, and Mykonos.” Jackie kicked off her shoes and put her feet on my dashboard. “I bet you saw a lot of exotic dancers.”

I swatted her feet down, avoiding the question. “That’s dangerous. If we get into an accident, your dance career is over.”

“Danger is my middle name,” she said.

“Is it?”

“No it’s Aida. My mom gave us Broadway middle names. Lisa’s middle name is Pippin.”

“You got lucky.”

“One of the few perks of being born first.” Jackie eased the seat back. “Have you got a middle name?”

“No. My parents weren’t too concerned with me. My uncle Johnny raised me for the most part. You would have liked him. He had a weird sense of humor and he loved blondes.”

She was quiet for a moment. “When did he pass away?”

“About two years ago. He died in a fire when some assholes burned down his club.”

“That’s awful.” Jackie gasped and touched my arm again. This time I let her keep it there.

“I rebuilt over the spot. Dalton was his last name. His place was called Uncle Johnny’s Gentlemen’s Club. Full nude. He didn’t serve alcohol. I worked there as a kid.”

“Your parents didn’t mind?”

“If it didn’t involve cards or dice, my parents didn’t care about much. I don’t even know if they’re still alive. I doubt it. They didn’t come to Uncle Johnny’s funeral.”

“Have you ever tried to find them?”

“I haven’t seen them in twenty years. I don’t even remember what they look like.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I couldn’t care less about them. It’s my uncle I want justice for. They never caught the people who set the fire. The cops didn’t even know where to start looking. The first thing I did when I got here was research the local gangs. That’s how I met Grier.”

“Let me guess. You saved him from a beat down too.”

I gave her a strange look.

“Chance said you took a bottle in the arm for him.”

“That was a long time ago.” I shrugged it off. “Anyway, the gangs were in a turf war. The cops figured Uncle Johnny’s was just collateral damage.”

“What do you think?”

“I think the bail bondsman and the pawnshop across the street weren’t touched because they paid protection. Uncle Johnny didn’t. I think the other places on the street laundered money or let the gang sell out of their stores. Uncle Johnny didn’t allow any shit in his bar. People were banned for life if they brought in drugs, prostitution or if someone started a fight. He had enemies. It could have been one of them.”

“Do you have any trouble like that?”

“Not so much. The local gang calls themselves the Rivs after the Riviera Casino that was torn down in 2015. Their leader, Leonidas, and I bumped heads a few years ago but I don’t think he was responsible for burning down my uncle’s bar.”

“Why?”

“At the time, he didn’t have the clout to pull it off. Nowadays, it’s not his style. He’s more a bullets and shanking type of guy.”

“Do you think it was the mob?” Jackie asked.

“Possibly, but not likely. Uncle Johnny’s had a small local following and he liked it that way. He wouldn’t have attracted the attention of the bigger families.”

“It must be frustrating for you.”

“I thought I’d have an answer by now, yeah. But I like my club. It’s nice to have a home of my own. Don’t get me wrong, traveling all over the world for ten years was great. But when I lost Uncle Johnny, all I could think of was that I should have been here. Maybe, if I had been, he wouldn’t have died.”

“You don’t know that. You might have died with him.” Jackie’s voice caught.

I gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m a lot tougher than I look. Anyway, I help Grier in his job, and he keeps an ear out. The trail grows colder each day, but I know one day I’ll get Uncle Johnny justice.”

“I believe you,” she said, and