Reynaud's Redemption, стр. 8
Pleased with his staff, Cameron considered himself lucky to have found experienced hardworking people. Not having to micro-manage them, he spent his days walking through the dining room, greeting patrons, introducing himself and passing out discount cards to first time visitors. At the end of his day, Cameron sat at a table in the corner tallying totals and preparing the funds for a bank drop.
“Mel, where are you, boy?”
The dog trotted into view almost immediately.
Cameron closed the laptop and slid it onto the chair he had vacated. “There you are. Ready for our walk, boy?”
The dog barked loudly in response.
Cameron chuckled. “I know you are. Come on.”
Mel followed him when he went to the kitchen safe and removed some money. After stuffing the funds into the deposit pouches, Cameron put them into his shoulder bag. He slung the bag over his head so it would hang on his opposite hip as he walked. Cameron locked the doors behind him and stepped into the night air. It felt steamy and muggy against his recently air-conditioned skin. His T-shirt clung to his torso. The added pressure from the strap made the area beneath it damp.
The moon had risen high and bright in the sky, lighting their way along with the streetlights. He and Mel walked leisurely, taking the same path they had taken each night for the last two weeks. They crossed the street and turned the corner to the block where the bank was located. Cameron usually didn’t see anyone else out when he made his bank run. It surprised him when two men appeared from around the corner in front of them. They passed by, acknowledging him with a nod. Cameron smiled and nodded back.
“Excuse me.”
Cameron turned. “Yes.”
“Are you coming from the restaurant down the street? The new one that just opened?” one of the men asked.
“Yes, I am. I’m the owner, Cameron Gamble.” He stuck his hand out.
The two men smiled and moved closer to shake Cameron’s hand.
“Nice to meet you,” the first man said pleasantly.
The second man chimed in, pointing at him. “So, you’re the Cameron in Cameron’s Bistro!”
“Yeah, that’s me.”
“That’s great. So, can we, like, go get something to eat there now?” the first man enquired.
“No, we’re closed now. We close at nine Monday through Thursday, but Friday, Saturday and Sunday we’re open until eleven.”
The men looked at each other then back to Cameron.
“So, you’re just leaving for the night then, eh?” the first man asked.
“Yes, and it’s been good talking to you, but I have to get somewhere. Look, why don’t you guys come by tomorrow and grab something to eat?” Cameron dug into his shirt pocket. “Here’s a discount card,” he added, handing each one.
“Thanks, but this isn’t what we really want,” the first guy said, handing the card to his friend.
Cameron’s head tilted in confusion. “What do you—?”
The second guy swung, punching him hard on the left side of his jaw. Cameron landed on the ground with a thud. Mel’s loud yelp broke the silence of the hot night.
“We figure since you’re the boss you must be going to that bank at the corner if you’re coming this way,” his assailant said close to his ear.
“Stop talking to him, Virgil, and get the damn bag.”
Virgil yanked on the strap around Cameron’s arm, but Cameron pulled back.
“Hey, let go of the bag, dude. Let go,” Virgil said through gritted teeth.
“Hurry up, Virgil. The guard could come down the street at any time,” his friend warned.
Mel growled and the other man let out a sudden scream. Cameron heard the distinctive sound of a body hitting the ground. The man continued yelling. Mel snapped and snarled loudly. The man’s painful cries followed, but Cameron couldn’t see what was going on.
Virgil turned away curiously. “What the hell are—?”
Cameron took advantage of his attacker’s distraction. Abruptly, he jerked forward on the strap. Virgil turned back, his eyes wide with surprise. Cameron kicked him hard between the legs and Virgil’s eyes managed to widen even more. He let out a high-pitched squeal then collapsed to the ground. Cameron scooted away from him. With his line of sight no longer impaired, he saw Mel on top of Virgil’s partner tearing at his arm viciously. Cameron stood unsteadily then kicked Virgil hard in the gut as he lay rocking and holding his nuts.
“Hey, what’s going on over there?” someone yelled from around the corner.
The clumping sound of hard-soled shoes striking the pavement got closer. Moments later, the bank guard arrived on the scene. He pulled his radio from his side and contacted the police. Cameron called Mel off the other man and told the guard what had transpired as they waited. A short while later, the cops arrived. Cameron gave his statement and got permission to go. The bank guard stayed with Cameron while he did the deposit then he went back to the restaurant.
Cameron went straight to his apartment and poured himself a stiff drink. His hands shook when he tilted the bottle. He swallowed the drink in one gulp, wincing instantly. Tasting blood, he used his tongue to search his mouth and found a tear in his cheek. With a sigh, he poured another drink. The second shot he took to his bed and sat. Staring into his glass, he swirled the contents. Just as he brought the glass to his mouth, something bumped his leg. Lowering his drink, he chuckled.
“Mel.”
The dog lifted his head in answer.
“Come up here, boy,” Cameron invited, patting the bed beside him.
Obediently, Mel hopped onto the bed and lay down. Cameron slid the drink onto the nightstand then he lay back, rubbing the fur