Skye Morrison Vampire 2 Sins of the Father (23 page)

“Come on,” he said, putting his arm
comfortably around my shoulders. “My car is parked out front.”

I let him lead me to the door and open it for
me. I walked beside him to the end of the parking lot and we
stopped when we reached a hot, vintage muscle car.

“Is this yours?” I asked, impressed. The
early ‘70s model royal blue Dodge Charger was pristine and
incredibly cherry.

“It is,” he chuckled. “This is my baby. Duke,
meet Skye,” he said as he unlocked the door and held it open for
me. “Skye, this is Duke.”

“Duke is seriously sexy,” I grinned
appreciatively as I got in.

Dic smiled, cocked his eyebrow, and watched
me for a few seconds before he closed the door and went around to
the driver’s side.

“What was that look you just gave me?” I
asked, trying not to smile as I spoke.

He chuckled as he started the car. “It’s
just…,” he started and then looked over at me with a playful smirk.
“You look good sitting in my car.”

I felt my face flush hot and I looked down at
my hands. Somehow, that one statement was very intimate. Maybe it
was just the look in his eyes when he said it, I don’t know.

“Um…thanks?” I managed before I looked back
up at him. “So, where are we going?”

“I’m taking you to my favorite barbecue joint
down the road,” he smiled over at me before backing out of the
parking space. “Their brisket is to die for.”

“Cool. I dig barbecue.”

He smirked knowingly at me, pulled out into
traffic, and reached over to turn on the radio. Skulls by the
Misfits blasted out of the speakers and I turned to him with a
grin.

“Misfits fan?” I asked, impressed.

“Always,” he winked.

“Bummer that they broke up,” I said
conversationally. “Glenn Danzig has an amazing voice. Are you into
his subsequent bands: Samhain and Danzig?”

“Of course. I’ve been to several of his shows
over the years. ”

“I’ve never had the pleasure, unfortunately,”
I said with a small sigh. “I do enjoy going to concerts,
though.”

“What’s the last concert you went to?”

“Aside from trying to catch every local Manky
Langer show, a friend and I drove up to Dallas to see System of a
Down three weeks ago,” I smiled as I looked over at him. “Serg
Tankian is something else. I love that his songs contain such a
strong social message.”

“It has nothing to do with how hard he rocks
it?” Dic laughed.

“Well, a little of that, too,” I chuckled.
“What other bands do you listen to?”

Dic smiled a heart stopping smile and quickly
looked over at me. “I’m a huge Pantera fan. Texas boys know how to
rock the hardest,” he said, wagging his eyebrows suggestively.

I laughed and shook my head at him. “I love
Pantera.”

“What’s your favorite song?”

“Hm…that’s a hard one,” I said and pursed my
lips in thought. “I’d have to say Walk is my favorite song.”

“That’s mine, too,” Dic grinned as he drove.
“I also like old school Metallica…none of that new crap they put
out. Anything after the ‘And Justice For All’ album is shit.”

“Hey,” I defended. “Don’t hate on the ‘Black’
album. It was good.” I glanced over at him and saw that he was
looking at me with a thoughtful smile. “Anything after the ‘Black’
album is shit,” I gave him.

He laughed and focused back on the road. “I
think we’re going to get along just fine, babe.”

A few minutes later we pulled into a small
parking lot that housed an even smaller brick building. The painted
sign out front read: “Jax Meat Market & BBQ”

“I’ve never been here before,” I said as Dic
opened the car door for me.

“It’s been owned by the same family for over
60 years,” he explained as he helped me out, closed the door, and
led me into the entrance.

“Look at what the cat dragged in!” an old man
laughed from behind the meat counter. “Well, if it isn’t that old
dog Dic! How’ve you been son?”

The gray haired man walked unsteadily from
behind the raw meat counter and came over to shake Dic’s hand.

“Hey, Jack,” Dic rumbled affectionately.
“I’ve been good, old man.” Dic turned to me and put his hand on my
back. “This is my friend Skye. Skye, I’d like you to meet the best
meat slinger in the south. This is Jack. He’s owned this place with
his family since it opened.”

“Nice to meet you, Jack,” I smiled brightly
and shook his calloused hand. “It smells amazing in here!”

“Well, sit yourself down, youngen’,” he said
as he motioned to one of the picnic tables. “I’ll fix Dic here the
house special.” I watched as he walked over to the barbecue counter
and got to work cutting meat.

Dic smiled affectionately at the old man and
then turned back to me. “I’ll be right back. Make yourself at
home.”

Dic walked over to join Jack and I took a
seat at a picnic table by the window. I took a good look around at
the décor as I waited. Jax was a simple place with simple
furnishings. There were roughly six picnic tables scattered around
and most of them were full of hungry customers. The walls were
decorated in old metal beer and gasoline signs and family photos
from when Jax first opened.

“Here we go,” Dic said as he returned and sat
down across from me.

He set a butcher’s paper bundle in the center
of the table and spread it out to cover the space between us. There
was brisket, sausage, a half slab of baby back ribs, bread and all
the trimmings piled in the middle of the paper. Dic tore two
napkins off the paper towel roll at the end of the table and handed
me one along with a plastic fork.

“Dig in, babe,” he said with a smile as he
started piling meat on a piece of bread.

I smiled and did the same. “This is absolute
heaven,” I purred as I chewed my first bite. The brisket was tender
and moist. I liked how Jack didn’t cover up the pure flavor of the
meat with the use of BBQ sauce. The meat stood on its own merit and
it was amazing.

“I had a feeling you’d like it,” he nodded.
“So Skye, tell me a little about yourself. I feel like I know you
from our meetings at The Mausoleum, but I really don’t. I’m very
curious about you.”

I felt my cheeks redden a little as I chewed
the rest of my bite and dabbed my lips with the paper napkin. “Um,
well, there isn’t a whole lot to tell,” I said shrugging one
shoulder. “I was born and raised in Houston and I moved to Austin
to go to school.”

“What did you major in?”

“Ancient History and Classical
Civilization.”

“And you work at a nightclub?” he asked,
confused.

I nodded my head as I picked at the crust on
my bread. “I haven’t had any luck finding a job that uses my degree
so far. But I just got the job at The Mausoleum and I love it. I
can’t see myself leaving anytime soon.”
As long as it doesn’t
get too crazy
, I added silently.

“How did you get end up getting mixed up with
Archer Rhys?” he asked with a frown.

I looked up at him and felt my brow furrow.
He was watching me closely, waiting for my answer. “Archer isn’t a
bad guy, Dic. I don’t know what his reputation is like out on the
street, but he’s a cool guy and a great boss.”

“That didn’t answer my question,” he said
with a crooked smile as he bit into a sausage link.

My lips pulled up into a small smile at the
memory of how we met. “Well, I was at Afterburners downtown having
a coffee when my ex-boyfriend showed up and started in on me.” The
thought of Jesse made my heart hurt and I felt the smile slide
right off my face. I had a flashback of his bloody blond hair
clutched in Ruarc’s fist and I closed my eyes and involuntarily
shivered.

“Are you okay?” Dic asked worriedly.

“Yeah,” I mumbled as I mentally shook myself
and took a deep breath. I couldn’t fall apart in front of Dic. Not
only would it be über embarrassing, but he wouldn’t understand and
I definitely couldn’t tell him what happened to Jesse. “Anyway,” I
said with the best fake smile I could muster, “Archer saw my ex get
a little rough with me and he intervened. We got to talking and he
asked if I wanted to interview for his Executive Assistant
position. Needless to say, I got the job.”

“Do you like it so far?” he asked as he
watched me. I had a feeling he wasn’t buying my fake smile.

“I do,” I nodded and gave him a genuine
smile. “Everyone is really great. It’s an interesting atmosphere to
work in.”

“I’ll bet,” Dic said quietly under his breath
as me made himself another brisket sandwich, then looked up at me
and smiled. The dimple on his right cheek was deeper than the one
on the left when he grinned and it was really cute. I found myself
studying his face and thinking how handsome he was. “So, enough
about work, what do you do for fun?”

“Nope,” I chuckled as I speared a slice of
sausage with my fork. “It’s my turn to ask a question.” He chuckled
and motioned for me to go ahead with his hand. “What do you do for
fun?” I asked, biting into the juicy piece of meat.

He raised his eyebrow at me and smiled at my
stolen question. “I like to work on classic cars in my spare time,”
he answered and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I like to salvage
classic rides from the junk yard and give them new life. I
completely redo them, inside and out. Once they’re ready to go, I
sell them.”

“Sweet. Is that what you did with your
Charger?”

“No,” he smiled wistfully. “It was my dad’s.
He gave it to me when I turned 16.”

“Nice gift,” I raised my eyebrows,
impressed.

“The best,” he agreed and then cocked his
head to the side with a playful smile. “So, what do you do for
fun?”

I bit the corner of my bottom lip and speared
a hunk of brisket before I answered. “Well, you already know one,”
I teased. “I love to dance. I also read, paint, study Israeli Krav
Maga, and I like to sing karaoke.”

Dic raised his eyebrows and his eyes got big.
“You study Krav Maga?” he chuckled skeptically. I cocked my
eyebrow, slightly unamused at his skepticism, and nodded my head as
I took a bite of the brisket, pickle and raw onion half sandwich I
made.

“But…,” he started and then stopped himself.
“It’s just that you don’t seem the type.”

“What does ‘the type’ look like?”

He studied me for a second before he
answered. “Not like you, beautiful girl.”

My face flushed hot and I struggled not to
smile. “You’re just a regular Casanova, aren’t you? Do you feed all
the girls you take out to dinner that line of crap?”

Dic laughed heartily as he finished the last
bite of his sandwich. “Just the pretty ones.”

I rolled my eyes and smiled. Dic was cute,
playful, and a lot of fun and I realized that I was really enjoying
our dinner together more than I had anticipated.

“So,” Dic said slowly, a look of uncertainty
marring his handsome face. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but
it’s really bugging me and I can’t just keep pretending that it’s
not there. Why do you have bruises on your face, throat, and arms?
You look like someone kicked the shit out of you today.”

My hand immediately went to the left side of
my face and I gingerly touched the swollen mass. “Someone did,” I
chuckled. “But I think I held my own pretty well.” His face frowned
and I quickly explained. “I’ve been doing some extra training,
knives and hand-to-hand combat, and my teacher is new. We were
testing each other’s waters, so to speak. It isn’t as bad as it
looks.”

“I’m glad,” he grimaced and bit into a piece
of sausage, “Because it looks pretty damn painful.”

“I’m used to bruises,” I shrugged, “Comes
with the territory.”

He chewed his bite as he looked at me
thoughtfully. “You’re a pretty tough chick,” he grinned. “I like
that.”

I blushed and looked down at my food. “So,
how long have you lived in Austin?” I asked.

“All my life,” Dic answered as he tore a rib
from the half-rack. “I’ve never wanted to live anywhere else.
Besides, we sort of have a family business here. I can’t really
just up and leave.”

“Tricky Dic’s?” I asked as I accepted the rib
that he offered me.

“No, no,” he mumbled between his bite.
“That’s all mine. I opened it about ten years ago.”

“Wow,” my eyebrows raised in surprise. “How
old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Dic chuckled as he got up from his seat. “Old
enough,” he replied cryptically. I watched as he walked over to a
wall cooler and pulled out two bottles of beer. He lifted them up a
little to show Jack that he had taken them. Jack gave him a thumbs
up as Dic walked back to the picnic table. He sat back down and
twisted off one of the beer caps.

“Thanks,” I said as I accepted the bottle of
Zeigenbock. “So, you’re not going to tell me how old you are?”

Dic smirked as he twisted his own top off.
“I’d like to hear your guess.”

“Hm,” I mumbled in thought as I put the
bottle up to my lips and took a long drink, my eyes studying his
face. “26,” I guessed when I put my beer back down on the wooden
table.

He laughed and shook his head. “Nope.”

“28?”

“Nuh-uh,” he smirked and took a bite out of
the last rib.

“You can’t be older than 29,” I said, my
forehead wrinkled in thought.

“Close,” he chuckled as he wiped the grease
from his lips. “I’m 30.”

“Holy crap, you’re kind of old,” I joked as I
took a big bite out of my pork rib. “You totally don’t look it,
though.”

“Thanks…I think,” he smiled and took a sip of
beer. “I feel it sometimes.”

“Well, I’m 23 and I definitely feel older
than I am,” I smiled, shrugging one shoulder.

“You act older than 23,” he smirked
playfully.

I bit my bottom lip and grinned. “So, I’m
dying to know,” I said, changing the subject. “Is Dic your real
name or just a nickname?”

He took another quick swig of his Zeigenbock
and set it back down on the table before he answered. “Nickname. My
real name is Dean Ian Cruz. Dic is just a nickname I picked up in
high school.”