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I didn't know if I should be relieved or worried. If the prospect got kicked out, then he might try to come after me in retaliation. I shivered at the thought. Staying in Pumpkin Patch might not be the right thing to do after all. I thought of my other choices and couldn't come up with anything good. I could try the same as before; I could just close my eyes and randomly pick another place to go, but what if it ended up being worse? Home to Kentucky was still out of the question. That would forever remain my very last option.
"I wouldn't worry too much about him coming after you again," she said softly, watching me through the mirror. "He would be given a warning that would mean his life if he tries to hurt you."
"They would kill him over me?" I wasn't shocked that they'd kill someone; it was a one percent club, and I doubted they ran it like Sunday School, but I was a nobody to them.
She shrugged a shoulder, then fished a tube of lipstick from the side of her bra, expertly sliding it onto her already cherry-red lips. "Not necessarily over you. More because of the disrespect he showed by breaking the rules. Technically, you aren't club property. But you do work for the club, so that gives you protection. But, just saying, even if you were just a girl in the bar having fun and got assaulted, the reaction would have been the same."
She turned to face me while tucking her lipstick away again inside her bra. "The Nightmares are a lot of things, most of them bad. But there is one thing they would never do, and that is force women or hurt children. They don't traffick, and they don't rape. It's a hard line they won't cross as long as Bones is the president. Even before then, it was something that most frowned on. I guess even those living in the deepest shade of gray won't cross into certain black areas."
I nodded absently, part of me very relieved to hear the news that they didn't treat women that way. It didn't mean they were good to their women. Some may cheat on or even beat their women, making them utter assholes. But part of me was stuck on what she had said about the president.
Bones.
It didn't take any explanations. If I hadn't been freaking the hell out when I first laid eyes on him, I probably would have been able to see it immediately. It was the way he held himself. There was an aura he gave off that was commanding, almost regal. He was more like a king than a president. The Skeleton King.The Nightmare King.
"Here, you can wear this. You are a bit smaller than me, but this should work well enough so you don't have to wear that one all night." She held a clean top out to me while gesturing to my beer-soaked one.
I grimaced again and stood up from the chair, glad to see that my legs weren't so shaky anymore and my knees were holding me up. I gingerly lifted the top over my head, careful not to drag it over my face, knowing that even though I couldn't see it through the black fabric, there was blood on the shirt, too. I dropped it onto the table and pulled the clean one on. It was baggy, much baggier than the other one, but it covered well. It was nice of her to say I was smaller than her instead of just calling my boobs small. She was well endowed and super curvy. She looked like a goddess with her long honey-blonde hair shining under the lights. But her sweet personality was what made her truly beautiful.
I looked up at her with gratitude. "Thank you. I appreciate it."
She waved away my thanks but smiled. "Are you ready to head back out there?"
I took a deep breath but nodded. Kara took my hand and pulled me along, not giving me a chance to second guess myself. When we entered the main room, it was as if nothing had happened. The bikers were all still partying, drinking their bottomless drinks, chatting with their buddies as if they hadn't seen them in decades, even though they had apparently been partying for the last two weeks together.
The man who had been pinned to the bar was gone, the blood wiped away. I saw the knife still lying on the counter, and my hands itched to grab it, to keep it. For some reason, I felt like it would protect me. Because it was his.
I slipped behind the counter and returned to filling mugs of beer. It was a relief that no one was making a big deal from the experience. A few curious looks were thrown my way, but no one said anything other than to call me sugar or babe while thanking me for the beer I slid across the bar top to them.
Mac had glanced my way several times with an apologetic look that I ignored. It wasn't his fault. I didn't think he had even noticed what was happening. It had been so quick, and Mac had been busy since the first biker had stepped through the doors. He barely had a chance to wipe the sweat from his brow as he poured glass after glass of whiskey and tequila shots.
I settled into an easy routine of filling glasses and sliding them down the smooth wood to whoever's hand was sitting there waiting. Whenever I had a chance to breathe, I would take a quick glance around the bar, just searching for the president. It wasn't until hours later when I noticed it was close to two a.m., that I saw him sitting at the corner table by the front door. The same table I had always thought was the best one in the place. Now I understood why no one had ever sat at it. It was his throne.
It was too dark, and there were too many people in the way, but I could have sworn he was staring at me. I shook my head as I poured an almost perfect mug of beer with only a little too much foam. I was being ridiculous. He was a fascinating man, so, of course, I was thinking about him. That quiet, commanding aura demanded respect without having to utter a word. The strong build. The tattoos. What he wasn't was watching me, a nobody, covered in so many scars that not even my mother would be able to look at me without wincing.
Now that he was seated at his table, I noticed that many of the bikers gravitated toward him. They carried their beers and whiskeys as they stood nearby, close enough to talk without actually entering his domain. The only ones that seemed to get close and even sit at the same table were the green-haired one with the cocky attitude and the dark-haired one with the sinister smile. There was another who dropped down into a chair next to him with light hair that almost looked blue but was difficult to tell in the dark. It seemed like they were his inner circle, even though it looked like they irritated him at times.
It took a while before I caught on to what some of the bikers were saying. Once I heard it, I made sure to keep my ears cocked to listen. They were complimenting him. As I strained to listen, I began to hear nearly all the bikers expressing how great he was. There was talk of how he had defeated various other men. I didn't understand what they were going on about, but I was more than intrigued. The president, though, looked like he wished they would all shut up and go away.
I noticed he wasn't drinking much. Daisy had come over to snatch a beer I had just filled and carried it over to him, her hips swaying like a pendulum and looking like she was ready to hop onto a stripper pole to put on the show of a lifetime. I had held my breath as she carried the glass over to him. Daisy stood there with her hip cocked to one side, clearly offering more than a beverage, but I didn't think he even glanced her way. The green-haired guy just laughed loudly and snapped his fingers in her face until she set the glass down on the table hard enough to slosh some of the beer over the side.
She flounced away, her hair bright pink flying behind her. She had a look of rage on her face, and when she caught me looking at her, she bared her teeth at me as if she were snarling like a wild animal. I had no doubt that she would have clawed my eyes out if she hadn't been sidetracked just then by some biker who wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her into his hard body. He was attractive and muscular, and she must have thought so, too because she pulled his head down and took his lips in a kiss that wasn't suitable for the public.
I poured another beer and slid it to the next biker, giving him a small smile at his thanks. When I glanced back towards Daisy, I saw their kiss breaking off and Daisy turning to me with a triumphant grin on her face. I just shook my head. I had no idea why she would feel like she won anything. I wasn't after anyone at the bar. I had no desire to get involved with anyone. I lifted my head to glance back at the corner table and shuddered.
When the last of the bikers were finally stumbling out the door, and the place was empty of everyone except Mac, me, and a couple of younger guys that had vests on without the patch, I slumped against the wooden top of the bar.
"You did real good, new girl."
I sighed and looked up at Mac through my hair. I had no idea when he was going to stop calling me new girl, but whatever. "Is it like this all the time?" I started to brush the hair back from my face but looked at my sticky fingers and grimaced.
"Nah. This was a party only because the Nightmares had come home after being gone so long. After tonight, everyone pays for their drinks, so there won't be so many hanging around. Nothing draws the club in like a party and free booze."
I nodded tiredly, thankful it wouldn't go the same way every night. I hadn't earned many tips. Only a few of the guys had slid a few dollars to me. Most just thanked me or even just grunted before walking off with their fresh mugs. At least I was getting a salary for the work I had done.
We cleaned up quickly, and with the help of the young prospects, we had all the empty glasses picked up and the tables wiped down. One of them placed the chairs on the tables so the floor could get the mopping it seriously needed.
"Why don't you mop, and I'll get the glasses through the washer?" I nodded gratefully at Mac. I always ended up soaking wet when I tried to wash up. The spray was so strong and took a lot of strength to squeeze. I could imagine how badly my hand would be aching by the time I was finished. I'd much rather push the mop around. Truthfully, I had the better end of the deal since I was sure the back was pretty full, and he'd be at it long after I was done.
