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“What are you going to do, Rock? Are you going to throw me out? Put your hands on a customer, a woman? Are you sure that’s a smart thing to do?” she taunts me.
I stop short.
She’s right. I can’t touch her. I don’t want to physically throw her out. She just needs to be gone. Now.
“You’re absolutely right. I’m not going to throw you out. I’m a reasonable guy, but this shit right here,” I tip my chin up at both of them, “stops now.” To Gringo I say, “Get her out. You’ve got sixty seconds. If she’s not gone, I’m calling the cops.” To Sasha, “If there are any more outbursts from you, one fucking peep that could be construed as causing a scene, I’m calling the cops. I’m not playing this. If this continues, I’ll get a restraining order.” To both of them, “Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
Sasha yanks her hand from Gringo’s pants.
“Damn woman, you could have castrated me,” he grabs himself as he hunches over, grimacing.
“This isn’t fair!” Sasha stomps her foot. “I can do what I want, when I want, with whomever I want.” She looks like a petulant child who’s not getting her way.
“Yes you can, but not in my shop, now get the fuck out, I don’t need this shit in my business.” I don’t need this shit right now.
“You guys screw women in here all the time. Why are you being so mean to me, Rock?” Sasha pouts. She juts her lip out and pouts like a baby.
“Sasha, it has nothing to do with you,” I’m starting to lose my patience. “What we do is none of your concern, unless it’s a tattoo or a piercing we’re giving you. That’s it.” I take a deep breath to remain calm. “You are a married woman, which means you are someone’s property. What you do is none of my business, but this place is. Shut it the fuck down and leave. Now.”
“Dammit!” another foot stomp.
Then she does something that really gets my attention. Even more than that, Gringo does too.
Sasha reaches over and curls her perfectly manicured hand around Gringo’s. Instead of pulling away, he shifts his hand and threads his fingers with hers.
They hold hands.
Well, I’ll be damned.
I narrow my eyes at them. “How long has this been going on?”
Gringo tries to drop her hand. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Drop the bullshit, how long?”
Sasha juts her chin out defiantly again and refuses to let go of Gringo’s hand. “A week.”
A run my hand through my hair in frustration. “Son-of-a-bitch.”
“You can’t make us stop,” Sasha says.
“It’s none of my business what you guys do. What is my business is what happens right here.” I point a finger back and forth between Gringo and Sasha. “This does not happen here.”
“Fine,” she huffs and looks away.
“Yeah, got it,” Gringo mumbles.
“Good, now get the fuck out. You’ve made a big enough scene. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone already called the police. I don’t need any damn trouble.”
Snake cracks the door open and sticks his head in.
“Rock,” his tone is cold and hard.
Every hair on the back of my neck stands up.
Something’s wrong.
I look at him.
