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A second knock sounded from the door. "Sally?" It was Kara. I hadn't seen her since just before my attack. I sat up quickly, then stumbled to my feet while trying to finger-comb my hair into place. I twisted the knob and pulled the door open to see Kara raising her hand to knock again.
"Hey, Kara," I said softly, unsure about how I should act around her now that my situation had changed so drastically.
She looked me up and down slowly. "Wow, you look great. You're practically glowing. And here, I'd heard that you had been attacked and nearly died! I wanted to come see you, but the Prez was only allowing a few people around. He took you to his house, huh? That's crazy!"
I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, not knowing what to say to everything. "Yeah, he saved me, then took me to his house to recover."
She studied me again, her eyes lingering on the faint, barely noticeable fingertip marks on my neck. In Jack's defense, my skin bruised entirely too easily, not that I was ashamed of the way he branded me with his fingers. Looking at them made me feel warm and tingly inside. I wondered what she'd think of the much more distinguishable marks on my hips.
After a long silence that I was beginning to hate, she finally spoke again, a grin spreading over her face. "So, you and the boss, huh?"
Before I could come up with an answer, a voice yelled from down the hallway. "Kara! Come on! Get your ass moving. They are barely able to keep up at the bar. Get Sally, and let's go." The voice was only vaguely familiar. In my mind, I could picture one of the guys who worked the night shift at the bar, but I couldn't place which one.
Kara's smile dropped into an apologetic look. "Yeah, so that's why I'm here. We are slammed at the bar tonight and need help from anyone who can pitch in." With another quick glance at my throat, she asked me if I was well enough to work.
"I'm not supposed to leave." I grimaced and glanced back at the couch. "Jack told me to stay put until he got back."
She grinned. "Jack, huh? I didn't even know that was his name." She sighed as her grin dropped. "Well, shit. Are you sure? We could really use you." Loud stomping footsteps came down the hall, and we both looked over to see the guy, Craig or Carl, I couldn't remember, coming our way with an angry scowl.
"I told you to come on." He turned a dark look my way. "You're still on the payroll, are you not?"
I gave a reluctant nod. I hadn't known any different. Jack hadn't said anything about me not working for him anymore.
"Then let's fucking go." He turned on his heel as if his word were final.
"Wait!" I called out. I didn't want to disobey Jack. It wasn't as if I obeyed his whims mindlessly, but I also didn't want to go against him either. I was also not comfortable leaving the safety of his protection, and leaving the clubhouse or his house without him seemed dangerous. "Jack, uh, Bones, told me to stay until he got back." I finished weakly when he'd turned around to give me a death glare.
"You work for the Devil's. If you think the President wouldn't want all his bitches to earn their keep, you are more delusional than you look." He scoffed, then turned his back and walked out of sight.
Kara looked at me apologetically. "It's okay, Sally. I'm sure we'll be fine without you."
I chewed on my lip for a minute, but the guilt of leaving the rest of the crew to a bar full of rowdy patrons won over my need to stay put. "No, it's okay. I'll come."
She hesitated. "Are you sure?"
I gave a decisive nod. "Yeah, I'm sure." I closed the door firmly behind me as I stepped out into the hallway. "I don't have my uniform here, though."
"I'm sure we can find an extra for you somewhere in Mac's supply room."
We hurried down the hall together, neither one of us wanting to face the wrath of Craig. Or Carl. Whatever his name was.
ChapterTwenty-One
SALLY
Iwas dressed in borrowed clothes, a tray in my hand filled with mugs of overflowing beer, and my back was killing me. I had forgotten how rough waitressing could be on a body, especially since I was wearing the sandals I'd dressed in that morning to go to the clubhouse.
I delivered the drinks to the table full of drunk and obnoxious men, dodging hands while ignoring their rude comments about my scars. As if I had never heard them before. I rolled my eyes. Most of the guys that came into the bar stayed on the side of respectful, knowing they were in a business owned by Devil's Nightmares. But sometimes, when they got a little too intoxicated, they let caution go and let whatever asshole thing that came to their tiny little minds free. The first few times, I had been embarrassed and hurt. I'd had to let it go quickly if I was going to be able to do my job. I was sensitive about my scars and tried to cover them as best as I could, but Jack had done a lot to help me accept them.
I walked around checking on my other tables, taking new orders, and gathering empties to return to the bar. There was no clock visible inside the building, so I had no idea how long I had been working. I couldn't help but worry my lip as I thought of Jack returning to find me gone. I wondered if I should have left a note for him so he wouldn't worry. I didn't know if anyone would tell him where I had gone. And then there was the worry about whether or not he was going to be angry at me for ignoring his order to stay put.
I set my tray down on the end of the bar and stretched out my back as discreetly as possible. My feet were tired from running around the bar all evening, but the soreness between my legs made me shiver every time I felt it. The memories from last night rolled through me, heating up my core and making me shift my legs, trying to dissipate the ghost sensation of Jack's face there.
I was waiting patiently for the Mac to get to me when a loudly whispered conversation finally penetrated my lust-filled memories.
"Look at her," The snickered words of Daisy were purposely loud enough for me to hear; I was sure of it. I looked around to see who else might be within earshot, but no one else was close enough to hear over the sound of music and boisterous laughter coming from a nearby table. "She's so pathetic."
I really thought those kinds of conversations between mean girls had ended in high school, but apparently, Daisy and her sidekick never grew up. I kept my back to them, pretending I couldn't hear their cruel words.
