A Hand of Spades

Chapter 7. Undercover

I startle back to reality when Tex bumps my shoulder. It's warm, friendly. "Sorry for your loss."

"Thanks." I almost say there was no loss, not really, but I hold my tongue. I am not here to give pieces of myself to these men, to reveal my secrets to them. "We were doing fine on our own until Hoyt came into the picture."

"That louse." Tex grumbles. "I told Cash we oughta give him a good senseless beating, but he shot that idea down. For now."

For now. It implies Hoyt will be the victim of a beating later. The idea isn't an unpleasant one, in fact I'd love to deal a few blows myself.

"Cash seems to have a strategy."

"That's him. Mister Strategic." Tex eyes me playfully out of the corner of his eye. "Although clearly he does his fair share of thinking with his"-

"Knock it off, Tex."

The vulgarity spewed by the cowboy has conjured memories of being held around the waist, the smell of his leather jacket, the flex of his tattooed arms. A little spark of something tugs behind my naval. I reach for my glass of water and turn my head away to hide the heat rising to my cheeks.

"You're the first girl he's brought home you know. Back to us, I mean."

"I hardly think bringing an abused woman to a safehouse constitutes 'bringing a girl home'. This whole situation is pretty fucked up."

"Yeah you got that right." He leans in, voice dropping to a whisper. "He doesn't know how to talk to women anyhow."

I almost laugh at that, thinking of our bristly exchanges. "Is he always so," I wrestle for a word that won't get me in trouble, "difficult?"

Tex almost chokes on his water. "You mean prickly? Yes, Dallas Jane, he's always been a pain. Difficult. I'm gonna use that one."

"Sure. Just don't say it came from me." I've stretched out my legs to catch the warmth of the sun, feeling strangely relaxed in the company of the cowboy. His laughter has put me more at ease. The air is sweet from the scent of the trees. If I ignore the last twenty-four hours, I could be chatting with an old friend. I wonder if that's why Cash had Tex watch me, if this easy charisma is a special gift of his. It certainly sounds like he won Blister over, though that's something I'd like to verify for myself.

"You want another glass?" The cowboy gestures to my empty water cup. When I say yes, he bolts up to get it for me. I'm desperate to know if the 'southern gentleman' show is an act or if it's genuine, the same way I want to study Cash's 'grumpy protector' persona.

The offer of protection still feels too good to be true. Granted, I  don't know what exactly the Spades want me doing in the Stella. Spying on Hoyt, I guess, but to what end?

"I'm supposed to have a shift at the Stella tonight."

At that, Tex's expression sours. "Yeah. Don't worry about it."

"What does that mean?"

"We have a plan."

I scoff. "What does that mean?"

Tex looks at me with a knowing grin. "Cash warned me you'd have questions. He'll explain some of it when he gets back, Dallas Jane." He sing-songs my name.

"Jane." I correct him with a huff. "Of course I have questions. You're not telling me much of anything."

He nudges me. "Oh don't get glum on me yet, Janey. My instruction is to bring me to your shift as normal. Then I'm gonna stay and make sure no one gives you a hard time."

"You're going to stay at the Stella the whole night?"

"Of course. I volunteered for the gig." He wiggles his eyebrows. "Won't be wearing anything that identifies me as a Spade, so I'll be undercover."

"Undercover at a strip club. I can see why you volunteered." I roll my eyes. "So I work the shift as normal?"

"Yep, you got it." He confirms. "Or as normal as you can with a busted shoulder. We're gonna see what Hoyt does, but I'll be keeping an eye on you."

"My hero." I drawl, mulling it over. It seems a little strange to just go back to my life. As though nothing happened. As though Hoyt didn't pop my shoulder out of socket last night. As though I didn't get picked up and whisked away by a biker gang to serve an ultimately unknown purpose.

"As long as he keeps his hands to himself, we need you in there acting as though nothing has changed. Tell him whatever story you think he'll fall for."

"There's no story he'll fall for. He's paranoid as shit." It's how he's stayed at the top of the food chain around here for long. "He's gonna know someone gave me that money."

"Then tell him that." Tex shrugs. "You've got a mysterious benefactor. I'll bet that'll drive him nuts. If it throws him off his game, we can jump on him sooner."

"Now who's Mister Strategy?" I tease, rewarded with his grin.

~~

I don't see Cash again until it's almost time for my shift. He enters the safehouse, strolls over to the kitchen counter and wordlessly hands me a roll of cash. "This cover what you owe?"

It's eerily similar to the conversation I had with Cherry the night before Hoyt beat me. I count through the bills. "It's almost twice that."

"Good. Tell him it's added interest." He thrusts a plastic bag out at me. It's stuffed with clothes. "I had Doc pick you up a few things. She took a guess at your sizing."

"Oh, great." I was beginning to wonder if I'd be rolling up to the strip club in boxers and a flannel, or yesterday's sweat-soaked outfit. "Tell her I say thanks."

"We'll send someone by your trailer tonight to get your stuff, and the kid's. So you're both comfortable."

"Thank you."

A strange tension hangs in the air. I have so many questions they're buzzing against the inner workings of my brain. Where has he been all day? What's the long game? What am I expected to do at the Stella? When do I get to see Hoyt run out of Throckmorton? 

I swallow the thoughts down. For now, it seems I should just do what I'm told. I can't stop myself from watching him, though; trying to peer past his skin and reveal answers for myself. For his part, he's avoiding my gaze. He mutters something about needing to unload the truck and ducks back outside.

"Jesus." I forgot Tex was lounging on the couch, watching the entire interaction. "It's like Animal Kingdom in here."

"I don't know what that means, Tex, but shut it."

He beams at me, delighted to have ruffled my feathers.

I change in the bathroom, grateful to Doc's near-psychic guesswork of my clothing sizes, and emerge in a baby blue tank top and black cutoff shorts. Tex looks almost disappointed with the lack of skin showing.

"I can't exactly work the pole with a fucked up shoulder Tex, and I'm not going to serve drinks with my tits all the way out."

"I didn't say anything." He raises his hands in mock-surrender, and holds the door open as we climb into his ride; an older forest green Chevy truck with a sickly-sounding engine. 

Cash watches us pull away, arms folded.

///