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“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Mark. I have no problem calling the police and making certain you spend some quality time behind bars.” I refused to budge, merely lifting an eyebrow. The dude was menacing in his own right, just over six feet of solid muscle, but I refused to be afraid or back down, especially given I’d moved into the enraged state. Once upon a time I’d been a real lady. I’d learned the hard way to take care of myself.
“You. Wouldn’t. Dare,” he hissed. “You don’t know who you’re messin’ with.”
“You threatening me, Mark?” I asked as a few of the customers backed further into the shadows.
Mark shook his head, laughing and mumbling under his breath. “You’ll get what’s coming to you.”
From somewhere came a bolt of sirens getting closer to the bar. Not that they were going to stop for any reason. The police seemed to avoid the place, but the jerkoffs didn’t know that.
“Come on, bro. Let’s get the hell out of here.” Chuck jerked to his feet, slapping Ramrod on the arm and reaching for Mark.
“I’d listen to Chuck if I were you,” I stated as firmly as possible. Every eye in the place was on the long wooden bar, folks sitting on the edge of their seat.
Mark slowly lowered the beer, dropping it into the sink full of ice. “You’re a bitch, Crystal. You know that?”
“Whatever it takes, Mark. Get. Out.” As he walked toward me, his eyes roaming down the length of my body, he groped his crotch.
Keeping a snarl planted on my face, I shifted in order to allow him to pass. When he was within inches, he leaned over, giving a suckling sound as he flicked his tongue over his teeth. His stench was disgusting.
“One night, sweetheart. You and me are going to tumble.”
“Come on, Savage,” Chuck encouraged.
The adrenaline was flowing, keeping my entire body rigid as I followed them to the exit, catching the eye of two of my waitresses. Their eyes were huge.
“You’re on fire today, boss lady,” Daphne whispered after breathing what sounded like a sigh of relief.
“You’re going to get yourself killed, Crystal. Jesus Christ. You’ve heard the stories,” Tina mumbled. “They aren’t the kind of assholes you mess with.”
“Yeah? Maybe not but they aren’t going to take control over my bar.” Every muscle in my body was tense from the interaction and as soon as the door swung shut, I allowed an elongated breath to escape. Managing a bar was a pain in the ass. At least the clapping and whistling given by the regulars gave me a slight smile. Even the waitresses were thrilled. “Okay, ladies. Get back to work.”
“Sorry you have to take that shit, Crystal. You don’t deserve it.” The rather sultry voice came from a man who always sat in the same spot. Pappy was a gentleman as well as a generous tipper. Rumors surrounded him that he was an extremely wealthy man, but his attire was always disheveled, his shirts frayed around the edges, as if they’d been worn for years.
“It’s okay, Pappy. I can handle myself.” The truth was, everyone who came to the Sandpiper Lounge as well as those in this section of Charleston were afraid of the threeamigosas well as their gang. The only reason they’d attached themselves to this bar in particular was because of the off-the-beaten-track location. The Sandpiper certainly wasn’t in the best area of town, but it was close to their turf.
Pappy shook his head. “Wish there was something the police could do.”
“They make idle threats. They drink. Like I said, I can handle myself.” The police weren’t interested in the thugs, at least not on a regular basis. Another rumor floating around was that the Desperados had certain officials in their back pockets. I scanned the crowded environment, making certain none of their other friends were lurking in the shadows.
All the drama aside, I actually enjoyed working at the bar, even though the hours were a killer. Fortunately, I’d been able to save up some money. Some. One day, I’d pick up on where the all-American dream had dumped me.
One day.
At least I had a decent job, one that paid the bills.
When the entrance door opened, I bristled, deciding then and there to bring a gun to keep behind the bar. Seeing my best friend’s face, I softened and grabbed the empty beer bottles and trash the boys had created, clearing a space. “What are you doing here?”
“Can’t a girl have a drink with her best friend, even if said best friend doesn’t ever call her or find any time to be with her best friend? Wait a minute, do I even know you, Crystal Cummings?”
Jessie Tatum wasn’t the kind of girl I ever thought I’d be friends with. Where I was poor, barely making ends meet, Jessie had wealthy parents and a dazzling beach house, complete with sweeping views of the ocean. I often envisioned her with cabana boys she kept locked away, although I’d never seen anyone else at her well-coiffed home. But from day two of my arrival in town, we’d been fast friends.
“Very funny and you know I can’t drink on the job.” I pitched the items in the trash after giving her an evil eye.
“You work all the time, honey. Can’t you get one of your other managers to take a shift?” Jessie asked as she sat down. “I want to play.”
I grabbed a rag, wiping the scarred top of the bar, more in a perfunctory motion. Everything in the joint had seen better days. “I’m a manager down right now. Had to take all the extra shifts. I do have tomorrow night off.”
“Then we’re going out and I’m thirsty.” Going out to her meant bar hopping, trying to pick up guys, something I wasn’t into.
