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“You’re up, Addie.” Jace knocked on the bar to tell me my drinks were ready. I took the tray and went off to my tables.
The night was great, except for a rowdy bunch of men who weren’t New Yorkers. I couldn’t tell where they were from, but there was a twang in there speech.
“Come here, girl,” shouted one of them. I looked over from a table I was finishing up with, to see a big burly man waving me over. I sighed at the idea of having to deal with half drunken men. I slowly made my way over. I dragged my feet, hoping they’d forget I was coming. But it didn’t happen as they watched me walking over to them.
“Yes,” I smiled the fake smile all people have when working with the public.
“Why don’t you sit with us, sweetheart?” he smiled and the rest of the guys laughed. The man was big but stout, making him seem slightly overweight.
“Can’t. I'm working,” I lied. Darren wanted us to be efficient in our work but also seem friendly when it was needed. On this occasion it wasn’t needed. I wanted to spill my drinks all over them if I could.
“Oh, come on, sweet thing.” He went to grab at my apron but I moved back and all he clutched at was air.
“Thanks for the offer, though,” I smiled but inside my head I was swearing at him. I started to make my way back to the bar when the overbearing man slapped my ass. Hard! I yelped out in pain. I turned and our eyes met, he laughed, but I glared at him.
“Did you just do that?” I seethed.
“Oh come on, angel. It was only a slap on the ass, nothing more,” he chuckled. At that moment, I felt the room shift as I was pulled back. Daimon flew over me, grabbed at the man’s collar, and punched him hard on the face.
“Daimon!” I cried out in surprise. I dropped my empty tray and went to pull him off, but Darren held onto me.
“Don’t worry, Pete’s coming,” Darren reassured me. Pete and two of his new guys arrived and pulled Daimon away from the slaphappy bastard. “Don’t worry, sir, we’ll take good care of them,” Pete said to Daimon. The two guys ushered the gang outside while Pete dragged the unconscious slaphappy bastard away.
“Are you okay?” Darren asked as he looked me over.
“Yeah, I'm fine. I wasn’t expecting my ass to get slapped, that’s for sure.” I half-laughed, adrenaline still pumping inside me.
I looked over to Daimon. He stood far away from me as he looked me over, his white shirt slightly askew while his jeans had some blood on them. I moved away from Darren and walked over to Daimon.
“What were you thinking?” I asked surprised at my feelings of concern and worry that had taken over. He moved in closer to close the gap between us.
“I was thinking someone was touching what was mine and I didn’t like it,” he gritted out.
“Daimon…” I said, but he stopped me.
“I told you I didn’t want you working here anymore. I don’t like the idea of men looking at you the way they do,” he hissed.
“Daimon, you’re bleeding,” I said as I took his hand, but he yanked it away from me and left. He walked back to the bar and ordered another drink.
“Addie, whatever you two got going on, a part of me is happy, the other is afraid. I haven’t seen Daimon act like this since high school,” Darren said cautiously.
“He was an asshole in high school. All he ever did was bully me to no end,” I said, trying not to sound as bitter as I felt.
“Addie…” he waved his hand and exhaled. “Forget it.”
I walked over to the bar where Daimon sat and took his hand without him noticing I was there. He flinched as I touched him.
“Relax, Daimon. I want to see if your hand is okay.” I looked at his hand, turning it and examining what he had done to himself.
Talk about flying off the handle. Then again, appearances mattered to Daimon and no one ever mishandled what he thought was his, which meant me in high school, or me tonight in this bar. To him I was his personal toy, his entertainment, which meant no one was to touch me. I resented him and his attention. I hated him then, but now my hate moved down a notch and I only disliked him…sometimes. He watched me as I cleaned off the blood, which had dried up with a clean, moist bar towel.
“What are you doing?” he whispered low, his rough voice making my heart skip.
“My job,” I said without thinking.
“You always do your job well. Don’t you, Addie?” he said spitefully. I stopped what I was doing and looked at him. His eyes were ice cold, his face hard as he scowled.
