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She laughs, stepping toward me and pressing her finger into my chest. “Oh, so you’re a music snob, huh? Why don’t you name a couple of real rock albums, then.”
“Well, for one, there’s–”
“Wrong!” she yells, erupting into laughter and returning to the box of records. “You don’t know shit about music.”
“Very funny,” I reply, feeling a creeping playfulness enter me. I put my beer down on the ground and watch her closely. She’s back in her own world again, ignoring me completely.
I sneak up behind her as she bends over, and before she can react, I grab her, picking her up and spinning her around as she kicks and squeals. “You’re the music snob,” I say, burying my face into her neck as I spin her. “Admit it.”
She laughs, then elbows me in the stomach much harder than I would’ve expected her to. I wheeze, letting go and buckling over.
“Weak,” she says with mock disappointment. “You need to eat your vegetables and quit smoking.”
I shake my head, straightening myself up despite the pain. “I’ve been hit much harder than that. You hit like a girl.”
“Because I am one, idiot,” she replies, finally grabbing a record from the box. “Come on, let’s go play this.” She skips past me around to the front, not a goddamn care in the world.
What the hell has gotten into her?
I sigh, picking up my beer from the ground and following her back around to the parking lot and into the building, rubbing my stomach to ease the sharp pain from her elbow. Jesus, that girl can hit when she wants to.
I take a swig of my drink as I enter, returning to the bright, bustling environment and hating every second of it. I just want to be alone with Oakley. I would pay to close this place down early and have the chance to talk with her in silence, but I know this is one of the most profitable nights of the week. She’ll be open late.
Oakley moves quickly, going to the far edge of the bar where I spot a record player hooked up to the sound system.
Oh no.
She pulls out the record, lays it on, and the needle comes down.
Elvis.
I laugh. “You know, Angus just about went out of business one time from playing too much Elvis.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Funny, maybe I’ll do the same and you won’t get any more money from me. What a shame.”
I give her a serious look. “What’s up? Something is wrong?”
“You tell me,” she replies. “I feel like you’re in some kind of trouble. A couple of bikers came by here this morning looking for you.”
I grab her arm, pulling her toward me and speaking in a hushed voice. “What bikers? What did they look like?”
She yanks her arm away, walking out from behind the bar and toward one of the tables near the door. I join her, and she takes her time answering me. I’m not sure I like this shift in attitude from her. It’s frustrating.
“Tell me about them,” I demand, leaning so far forward that I almost pull the table over onto myself.
She slaps her palms down to steady it. “Take it easy, Savva. I didn’t see them, actually. I was around back looking through some of my father’s belongings and I heard them pull up. There were probably quite a few of them, but at least three, because I heard them talking.”
“About what?” I ask, my eyes focusing on her mouth as though I might miss a precious word if I don’t watch it come out.
“I guess this is pretty important to you, then,” she says, giving me a fake smile. “I guess that means it’s important to me, too, and perhaps there’s something you should be telling me.”
“I was going to,” I grumble, leaning back when I realize what she’s doing. She thinks this is my fault, and of course, it is, but now she wants to act pissy at me about it, like I planned for people to come after her.
“Who were those guys, Savva?” she asks, her voice turning shrill. “There were talking about hurting you, and they knew Angus, too. Who were they?”
“Couldn’t have been anyone but the Triple Six Angels. They’re a biker gang that specializes in ripping people off at their little gas station down the road. They sometimes like to drive around here and collect tolls from anyone they come across. I’m sure Angus had an issue with them just the same as I do,” I explain. “But that’s not a reason to get mad at me. They weren’t even on my radar until…”
“Until what?” she asks, her eyes wide as she teeters between anger and fear.
