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Callie arrived carrying a tray with two pitchers and shot glasses.
“Margaritas,” Pris explained, pointing to where Callie had set our supplies down. “You should have one to get started.”
“Later,” I told her. I’d expected girls night out to be sitting around a table with chairs, lots of gossip, and maybe a little dancing. “First, what’s Mexican pool?”
Anna laughed. “Think of it like beer pong, except with real alcohol. Miss a shot and you have to down a shot glass of margarita from the pitcher.”
Callie laughed. “We don’t score much, but it’s a lot more fun this way.”
With two pitchers, my guess of a night of serious drinking had been spot on.
After Anna racked the balls, all the girls filled glasses from the pitcher and knocked them back.Yep, serious drinking.
I moved away from the alcohol to the other end of the felt.
Anna was fiddling with her phone.
“Hi, Angela.”
I spun. It was Devlin. He hadn’t left after all.
“Interested in getting your nice car back?”
“Wouldn’t anybody be?”
“We should have dinner. We never got to finish the first one.”
“Exactly how do I get it back? You weren’t clear when you towed it.”
“That’s what I thought we could talk about. I’ll call you,” he said as he backed away.
“He’s a real slug,” Anna said from my side.
“You’re not wrong about that.” I hadn’t heard her come up, I’d been so focused on watching Devlin as he walked away, wishing for a dart to throw at him. My focus didn’t waver until he was out the door.
“He knows better than to try that shit with me. Waylon would break him in two.”
I nodded. “I think I’d be looking for fire ants to stuff down his pants.”
She giggled. “I like that one. For now, I think I’ll post this video of him.”
I grabbed for her arm. “No. Please don’t. Not yet. I need my car back in one piece.” The last thing I needed was Devlin even more pissed at me.
“Hey, Loretta,” Anna called out. “Wanna join in on Mexican pool?”
Loretta shook her head. “I can’t. Gibson is on the way.”
The name rang a bell. Marge had given me a quick list of the players involved in the feud so I could stay clear. Gibson was one of the Pollock boys, and according to Marge, would have been put away already for abusing his girlfriend if the local police force wasn’t comprised mainly of his brother and father.
My heart went out to the tiny redhead I didn’t know. I understood her situation all too well.
* * *
Three missed shotsand three glasses of the frosty yellow drink into the game, I understood the appeal. This was absolutely more fun than regular pool.
Pris heckled Callie as she lined up a shot.
My phone chirped an incoming message from my pocket. When I pulled it out, there were two messages. I’d missed one twenty minutes ago.
