"Is that so?"
"It is. And one of them is standing right in front of you. Don't make me beg, Cranky…"
"Crystal." I cringed at her misuse of my name and scowled at her as I sipped my fresh drink.
"What?"
"I'm not in the mood."
"You're never in the mood." When she backed up I thought she was going to walk away. Instead she rounded the end of the bar and stood right next to me, elbow resting next to my drink while her tits pressed on my forearm. "It's been four years, Crank." She petted my bicep like I was a dog or something. "She's gone. Everyone knows you laid your bike because you were upset about Sara… Can you let her go now? Give me a shot?"
I didn't answer that because there wasn't an answer that would make sense to her. She didn't know the details and I wasn't about to share them. Besides, finally admitting that it really was Sara who I was hung up on would be a mistake. What would Peter say?
"You're crossin' a line." I sipped the whiskey again while her hand rode up my thigh toward my crotch, but she didn't find what she thought she'd find. She couldn’t make me hard if she tried. I didn't think I'd been close to being aroused by Crystal once in my life, though a few times a passing mention of Sara might've made me throb a time or two.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Something I should've done a long time ago." She turned my stool toward her and stepped between my knees before I could stop her. Her hands went to my shoulders and she raised herselfonto my lap, settling her weight across my thighs with her knees pressed against the outside of my hips. She was warm and soft and her face was inches from mine and I could feel her breath against my jaw when she spoke.
Half the bar probably watched her straddle me like we were teenage lovers, meanwhile I just wanted to finish my drink in peace and get out of here.
"One night," she said. "That's all I'm asking. One night and I promise you'll forget whatever's been eating you alive."
Her fingers moved up the back of my neck and into my hair and I'd be lying if I said my body didn't respond. It had been four years since a woman had touched me with any kind of intent, and the alcohol was making my defenses thinner than they should've been. She rolled her hips against me and my hand went to her waist on instinct before I caught myself.
"Crystal, I'm gonna ask you one time really nicely to get off me before I have to use force. I'm not interested." Last thing I needed was a ride on the town bicycle to let everyone know how desperate I was.
"Your hand says otherwise." She looked down at where my fingers were gripping her hip and smiled. "Just let yourself have this, Crank. One night. Nobody has to know."
My grip tightened on her hip and I was about two seconds from making a decision I'd regret when the front door slammed open and three men walked in. The temperature of the room dropped a few degrees and I knew them by their cuts before I saw their faces. Black leather with the Locust patch on the back, the red-eyed grasshopper with spread wings that every Gravehound in the county had learned to recognize on sight.
The one in front was a big, broad man with a shaved head and a beard that hung to his chest, and the two behind him were younger and like he was looking for a fight and hoping to find one.
Crystal slid off my lap and backed toward the bar without a word. She knew what those cuts meant, and she knew what was about to happen too. We had our share of tussles before and the Black Anvil was no stranger to broken tables or chairs because of the mess that'd been started when Mandy was found dead.
The big one pointed a thick finger at Butch, who'd set down his darts and turned to face them. "Which one of you slashed our tires?"
Butch spread his hands. "I don't know what you're talking about, man."
He stepped closer and his two boys fanned out behind him. "Which one of you did it?"
Rusty moved up beside Butch and folded his arms. "Nobody here touched your bikes. If you've got a problem, take it up with your own people."
"Our own people didn't slash our own tires, you stupid son of a?—"
The big one shoved Butch in the chest with both hands and that was all it took. Butch came back swinging and connected with a right hook that snapped the big man's head sideways, and then the two younger ones rushed in and the whole bar erupted.
I was off my stool before I even thought about it. One of the younger ones came at me and I caught him with a straight left to the jaw that sat him down on the floor. He scrambled up andthrew a wild haymaker that caught me on the ear, and I grabbed him by the front of his cut and drove my knee into his stomach hard enough to fold him in half. He went down again and stayed there.
Butch had the big one in a headlock and Rusty was trading punches with the third, and the whole fight lasted maybe ninety seconds before the three of them were shoved out the front door and told not to come back. The big one spit blood on the sidewalk and pointed at the bar.
"This isn't over," he said, and the three of them disappeared into the parking lot.
I stood in the doorway breathing hard with my knuckles throbbing and watched them go. Lightning appeared beside me and leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed. He had a fresh beer in his hand and not a scratch on him, which meant he'd watched the whole thing from the back and let the rest of us handle it.
It was just like him now that he'd been promoted to second in command. All because Fox had all but given up. No matter how hard I'd taken it that Sara ran off, Fox had it worse. I always reminded myself that and it made it a bit easier for me to cope.
"Nice work," he said.
