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THREE YEARS LATER . . .
AVERY
I wipe down the bar one more time and sigh. It’s been a long night and the crowd doesn’t seem to want to go home. I glance over at Blake, who has busied himself talking to a group of women who have been sitting at the bar all night. I’ve grown quite fond of Blake over the last few years, and he’s become one hell of a good bouncer for the bar Granny helped me open when I decided that I wanted to stick around Wellston and look after her. She helped me realize that I can be a successful business owner, even though I’m young. I found it only fitting to pay homage to Granny with the name of my bar: Granny’s Poison Apple.
Thanks to the life insurance money Dad left me, I was able to buy a small building in town and renovate it. From the old brick façade outside, it doesn’t look like much, but it’s one hundred percent mine. It’s been a steady stream of income for me over the last couple of years, and I’m thankful for that.
It’s been a challenge to be successful in this small town, but I think my hard work has really begun to pay off because it’s now the place where everyone in town comes when they feel like having a drink. Blake really helped me out in the beginning by bringing his weekend parties to the bar instead of just keeping everyone at his place. He helped to validate the bar as the best night spot around, so it was only fitting that I give him a job.
I glance up at the clock on the wall and notice in fifteen minutes it’ll be two in the morning. “Hey, Blake, could you let everyone know it’s last call?”
He nods and smiles at me. “Sure thing, boss lady.”
He cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “Last call!”
A big guy, whose thick salt-and-pepper beard complements the black leather vest he’s wearing, yells back, “It’s last call when we fucking say!”
My eyes snap over to the group of guys sitting at the corner table. It’s a well-known fact that they are part of a local motorcycle club that has a reputation for doing things on the shady side of the law. They’re not regulars, but I have seen them in here from time to time.
Blake’s stance stiffens and he rolls his shoulders back. My gut twists and I’ve come to know that Blake doesn’t back down from threats, which is why he’s such a phenomenal bouncer, but I can’t allow Blake to get tangled up with these guys. “Blake,” I call his name over the music that’s playing on the jukebox and he turns in my direction. “Let it go. Come help me clean these last few glasses so we can get out of here as soon as they’re done with their drinks.”
Blake takes a step in my direction and then freezes when the man in the corner yells again. “Go do as you’re told, boy!”
I gasp, knowing that since this threat is personal, there’s no way of calming Blake down now.
When he turns, all I can do is yell his name from behin
d the bar in hopes it will be enough to deter him from confronting the men. “Blake!”
It’s no use—he’s across the room and standing in front of the table full of guys before I even have a chance to come from behind the bar.
Blake leans down and balances his weight on his fists so he can stare the big man right in the face. “Finish your drinks and get the hell out of here.”
The even tone of his voice presents a calm front, but I can tell by the way his muscles tense beneath his T-shirt that he’s seconds away from losing his cool with these guys. The fact that Blake’s outnumbered three to one doesn’t seem to faze him either, but it scares the shit out of me. I just wish there was someone to back him up.
The man narrows his eyes. “You better watch how you talk to me, boy. I’m not a man you want to make upset.”
Blake straightens his stance and meets the stare of the menacing man on the other side of the table. “I don’t give a fuck who you are, but it’s time for you to go.”
The biker stands up slowly and the other two men flank his side. “Who’s going to make us? You?”
The three men chuckle like a funny joke has just been told.
“That’s right.” Blake balls his fists up at his side. “Don’t make me throw your ass out of here.”
The man throws back the last of his drink and then sets the beer bottle back on the table in front of him. For a second it looks like the men are about to leave without making a fuss, but out of nowhere the leader of the group sucker punches Blake from across the small table.
Blake staggers back, shakes his head, and then dives over the table, taking himself and the man to the floor. The sound of glass shattering and the commotion of the table and chairs falling to the floor turns every head in the place. The other patrons quickly flee from the bar, leaving me alone with the fighting men.
The other two men reach down and drag Blake off of their companion. Blake struggles in their hold as the other man pushes himself to his feet. Panic floods through me. I can’t just sit by and watch these goons hurt my friend.
I jump on the back of one of the guys and wrap my hands around his neck, yanking back as hard as I can to get him off Blake.
The man grabs a handful of my hair and slings me off his back. “You little bitch!”
He leers at me and out of the corner of my eye, I see the other two men taking turns punching Blake. My heart races as I slide back on the floor to get away from the guy. He narrows his eyes and just as he begins to reach down for me, someone rushes his side and tackles him to the ground.
It takes my eyes a moment to focus on who just saved me, but the moment they land on a familiar face, I gasp.
