Page 8 of Justice of Hell


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“Where the fuck is she?” Pyro inquired, looking at the blank faces staring at him.

“You need us to put feelers out?” Chance asked. Pyro nodded.

“Locate her; Janey will be terrified and alone.” Chance acknowledged Pyro’s demand. Diesel hoped they’d find Janey Revers soon. Because the look on Pyro’s face spoke of the heartbreak he’d suffer if they didn’t.

???

Bunny

“Shot!” Inglorious yelled, and I raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, like you do shots!” I retorted, and Inglorious howled and flapped a hand.

“Bunny, our version of shots.” He cackled. I laughed alongside Inglorious as I waved him to sit down. Inglorious wasn’t drunk, but he was certainly happy tonight. I never knew how to take the President of the Unwanted Bastards. But Inglorious was a good egg usually and treated me with respect, unlike some who came here. Magic grunted as he poured shots of whiskey into glasses and shoved me the tray.

“Thank you, kind Sir,” I teased the grumpy man who glowered, but a smirk shone in his eyes.

“Serve them before they tear my place up.” Magic moaned.

“As if they’d dare. Everyone knows about the bodies in the yard behind the bar,” I quipped, and Magic’s scowl darkened. I popped out from the rear of the counter and carried the tray of shots over to Inglorious. There were five of his men with him tonight. Psych and Mouse were regulars with Inglorious, and I recognised Razor and Snake. The last one I didn’t know, but he’d been eyeing me up for a while. Inglorious tilted his head as I put the drinks on the table, and hands shot forward to grab the glasses.

“Celebrating?” I asked Inglorious, who offered a lazy wink.

“Bunny, girl, we’re letting our hair down.” I saw a hand sneak towards my rear end out of the corner of my eye. Without a word, I spun and grabbed it, bending the fingers back of the guy I didn’t recognise.

“Touch me, and Magic will bounce you out of this bar!” I warned. Inglorious snorted as his brother gave me a sheepish gaze.

“Ass like that woman, well, you can’t blame a man for wanting to pet it.”

“Poison, you know Magic’s girls are off-limits,” Inglorious taunted, and Poison winked at me.

“Forgot for a second, such a glorious butt,” Poison said, offering a charming grin.

“Yes, it’s superb, but it’s off-limits, biker boy,” I teased. Magic stood, thick legs spread apart and a stare on his face that would put Poison six feet under. I patted Magic’s arm in reassurance as he pointed to his eyes with two fingers and then at Poison, who waved Magic’s concern off.

“Forgot myself, Magic, won’t be happening again,” Poison called with a sheepish look.

“See, it doesn’t, my man,” Magic grumbled. Amused, I laughed and took the following order from Bat, the VP of Fallen Warriors. There were several clubs in tonight, and although the place wasn’t heaving, we were busy.

“Break, Bunny girl,” Magic rumbled as I handed Bat his beer. Surprised, I glanced at the clock and saw it was already ten. My shift had started at two because one barmaid had up and left Magic in the lurch. Magic had bought food, and mine was out back.

“Okay, I’ll be fifteen minutes,” I said, wriggling past Magic’s enormous frame. I was starving, and Magic had ordered pizza.

“Take half an hour, Bunny,” Magic demanded, and I nodded. Magic looked after his staff. There were five servers, five barmen and me; Magic made the sixth barman. I did both jobs, much to Magic’s contentment. There should have been three bartenders and two waitresses despite being a Wednesday. Instead, there was Magic, Alice and me. If it got any busier, we’d be slammed. The MC Satan’s Warriors had just left, giving us a lull in which I could grab a meal. I’d already covered Alice and Magic. We didn’t even have the busboy or cook, so food services had shut at six when Brett, the day chef, signed off. Magic and I were taking turns loading the industrial-sized dishwasher.

Magic was grumpier than ever when he realised the night chef, Stan, and his son Donnie weren’t coming in either. Although with Stan, Magic at least knew it was genuine. Magic told everyone in the bar if they wanted food to get it delivered, and no one had grumbled. My boss wasn’t to be messed with.

Tiredly, I slunk out back and snatched two slices of pizza. I was ravenous, not having had a break for eight hours. While eating, I sat down. The food was excellent and filled a spot, and I was thankful for Magic’s thoughtfulness and kindness towards his staff. When I landed here five months ago, I’d changed my appearance. No one could link Janet Revers with Bunny Jones. I’d been heading out of South Dakota but had needed the ladies and stopped here, unaware this was a biker pub.

No one had looked twice at me, apart from interested looks. At the time, I’d been wearing tight ripped jeans, an off the shoulder loose top tightened with a belt and cowboy boots. My hair fell free, something I hadn’t done in years. Funny enough, I’d not had a headache since I stopped wearing it in tight buns and ponytails. I had pink, blue and purple highlights, and against my chestnut mane, they looked good. Instead of straightening it, I let my natural curls flow. My eyes were now green rather than the hazelnut that was quite distinctive. And I’d a scar on my cheek from a narrow escape, which I didn’t wish to think about.

Magic’s eyes had popped on seeing me, and then I saw the sign advertising help wanted. After using the ladies, I bought a coke and watched everyone around me. Unaware Magic was watching me. Within a short time, I realised that Magic ran the bar with an iron hand and took no messing. The waitresses were strictly hands-off, and Magic had no fear of warning a biker to keep his greedy mitts to himself.

I questioned one bartender about what it was like working there, and he sent me a puzzled glance. He talked to me for a while before Magic pushed him to one side. Magic had inquired if I was looking for work, and when I said I needed cash payments, awareness shone in his eyes. Magic had asked for ID and studied my new driving licence, which I’d been assured would pass even the most rigorous checks. He’d snorted and told me it was a damn good fake and wanted to know what trouble I was running from.

I’d denied it at first, but Magic’s knowing gaze shut me up. Magic ordered me to his office as I got up to leave. Aware of the size of Magic and fully conscious he could stop me, I’d followed him behind the bar and into a cosy, if somewhat messy, room. Magic made me sit down and studied me for a while before offering me the apartment above the bar for free, but I’d have to do his paperwork in return. Magic then offered me the bar job, at the going rate his other staff got paid and agreed to pay me cash.

I was so surprised that I missed the worried glance he gave me. Magic asked if I’d bartended before or waitressed and when I said yes, he’d appeared slightly shocked. I informed Magic I’d done it through college, and he finally nodded. Then informed me that if trouble came looking for me, he needed to be the first to know. Magic then dragged me upstairs, ordered takeout, and told me he’d grab the bags from my car. And that was that. An apartment in exchange for paperwork and cash for serving and waitressing.

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