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“Get the fuck out, both of you,” Mountain man—or Mike I’m assuming—growled, pushing them both toward the door.
“It was all in good fun.” The heckler chuckled nervously, but his attempt to dissuade Mike was only a weak one since he was already retreating toward the exit.
“You can’t kick me out, our band still has another set to play,” the lead singer argued, crossing his arms over his slender chest. He was younger than most of the men in this bar, probably in his late twenties, but he looked much older than that under the harsh overhead lights that Mike switched on before handling the two clowns. He had deep, dark bags lining his eyes and pock marks littering his too-pale face. He looked like a toothpick compared to Mountain Mike, who merely lifted his lip in a sneer. If looks could kill, I’m sure they would have already skewered the sorry excuse for a singer.
The singer wasn’t deterred though, despite his bandmates already packing up their equipment. “We had a deal,” he insisted, planting his feet wide on the sticky wood floor.
Mike stepped forward, but instead of pushing the singer again, Mike scooped him up under his shoulders and carried him out the front door. The audible slap against the pavement must signal Mountain Mike flinging the man to the curb since a moment later he stomped back empty-handed, his heavy footsteps vibrating through the bar. Everyone averted their gazes as one when he scanned the room, so I did the same, ducking my head to avoid his wrath. I really didn’t want to be thrown out like a sack of potatoes just for looking at him wrong.
“Happens all the time,” a woman drawled in a bored tone. My head snapped up from the bar top and the bartender gave me a wry smile. I couldn’t help but return it, somehow knowing she didn’t offer many up.
“I have no clue why, especially with …” I trailed off, biting my tongue before “Mountain Mike” could roll off my tongue. Probably not the best idea to fill her in on the nickname I’d just given him in my head.
“Drunk idiots never learn.” She chuckled, idly wiping the bar with her towel and slinging it over her shoulder. I cleared my throat awkwardly, almost choking on the laugh I stifled at the totally cliched bartender move. “I’m surprised to see someone like you here.”
She quirked a brow, not in accusation but in confusion. And I couldn’t really blame her, I really wasn’t the bar’s normal clientele, that was for sure. I pulled myself up straighter and squared my shoulders, needing to exude as much confidence as possible. I’m sure a place like this could chew someone up and spit them out, but I’d dealt with it all before, hell I probably served some of these guys at my parents’ diner without their club jackets on.
“I’m looking to see if you have any openings, I have experience as a server and I’m a hard worker,” I said, keeping my voice clear of the desperation sinking like a leaden weight in my stomach. She eyed me curiously, scanning me from head to toe as though she could see every fiber of my being with her discerning gaze.
“Okay, I’ll go get my manager.” She shrugged and turned toward the door Mike had come out of as though she hadn’t just been intently examining me head to toe. “It’ll be good to have some fresh meat here,” she threw over her shoulder while sauntering away.
Swallowing thickly, I wiped my hands on my jeans, attempting to dry the clammy moisture that had gathered from my nerves. I took it as a good sign that she didn’t recognize me, that no one seemed to recognize me, yet. Hell, I might even be able to come up with a fake name. I could take a cab here and sneak in and out of the house if Tommaso was out just to make sure there was no way to trace me back here.
Movement drew my attention to the backroom the bartender disappeared into, and I fought the urge to chew on my bottom lip.
Lights glinted off a head of golden hair, styled with a seemingly effortless tossed-back look. My breath caught in my throat, and I instantly wished I could sink into the floor when he turned the corner, his dark-hazel eyes wide with shock as they locked onto mine. I would know those eyes anywhere, could sketch his wide jaw and thick muscles with barely a thought. That was what happened when you knew someone for an eternity, had harbored feelings for someone that now all came back, rushing to the surface as a sob racked my chest.
My greatest dream and my worst nightmare—that was what tonight was turning out to be. My heart both jumped with excitement and panged at the loss. I had craved to see Merrick Ford again with every ounce of my being, but judging by the cutting look he pinned me with, the feeling was definitely not mutual.
Chapter six
Giana
Seven years ago …
“Getin.”Merrick’svoiceboomed over the other students’ conversations as I descended the school’s front stairs. The hum of voices was silenced around me, and I huffed out a breath of exasperation at his brusque tone. Merrick must’ve skipped his last class again. He drummed his fingers impatiently while leaning against the worn paint of his red Chevy Impala. I strode over to his passenger side door, and was just about to scold him when he cut me off. “Driver’s side.”
I stared at him incredulously, my mind wrestling with either questioning his sanity or just ignoring him and sliding into the patent red leather seats he’d just refinished.
“You can’t be serious.” I settled on something in between, still mindful of the students filing out the front doors and the wary glances they were directing his way. Merrick had built a reputation for himself both at school and around town. He’d throw a punch first and ask questions later and was unfairly judged for it. He was one of the sweetest people I’d ever met, but he didn’t let anyone else see that side of him.
“I’m dead serious, Gi. Get in the driver’s seat, now,” he growled, his hand still propped on the hood. I swallowed thickly, my eyes scanning up his lean muscled form. He’d built up his athletic build even more since he got out of juvie a few months ago, and I couldn’t help the way my eyes were drawn to his chiseled arms. I bit down on the side of my cheek to dispel the lust for my best friend.
“Are you trying to get someone killed?” I hissed, stepping closer to him, not wanting anyone to overhear us now.
It was almost my seventeenth birthday, and I still hadn’t truly learned how to drive. I got my learner’s permit at sixteen but rarely had the opportunity to between work and my parents not letting me use their car. He quirked a brow in response, glancing at the students passing by as though he was asking me if I really wanted him to announce I couldn’t drive in front of everyone.
“Fine, but let’s just go to a parking lot or something.” I sighed, my lips jutting out in a pout I knew he wouldn’t be able to refuse.
“You’re evil,” he said resignedly, and I leapt to the passenger seat, unwilling to give him a chance to change his mind. “You’re not getting out of this though,” he warned, grumbling something unintelligible under his breath as he slammed the door behind him.
“Why did you skip last period?” I asked, changing the subject. I clipped the seatbelt into place, and he pulled out of the lot, heading away from town.
“I had something to do.” He flexed his knuckles on the steering wheel, and only then did I notice the redness there.
“What did you do?” I reprimanded, tugging one of his hands off the steering wheel and cradling it between my own to inspect the tender flesh. It was close to being broken open. The idiot would need to ice it soon, but it would most likely still bruise.
“Don’t worry about it.” He winced as I touched his hand but he didn’t move it away.
