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When I walk into the bar, I’m surprised to see Charley behind the counter. “What’s happened to Justin?” I ask immediately.
He’s always here.Always. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and my knees tremble as I wait for Charley to answer my question. He lifts his gaze, his eyes finding mine, and holds my attention for a moment before he speaks.
“He won’t be in today.”
The simple sentence makes my stomach flip. Instantly, I feel sick. This is bigger than just him not coming to work today. So much bigger. I feel sick that it could be because of me. I hold my breath, waiting for an answer, even though I haven’t actually asked the question. He knows that it’s on the tip of my tongue, though, and thankfully, he continues.
“Went out on a date, who happened to have a boyfriend, and got jumped. Rival club shit. We aren’t even part of that life anymore, but it still happens sometimes.”
My heart slams against my chest. I wonder if this rival was actually Douglas. “What did the rival guy look like?” I ask.
He doesn’t say anything immediately. He shakes his head a couple of times, then clears his throat before he speaks. “He didn’t say. All I know is that he got jumped. Girl claims it wasn’t her man, but I don’t know.”
“You don’t believe it,” I mutter.
Charley doesn’t confirm or deny what he considers to be the truth, but it’s clear that he doesn’t believe he was attacked by this girl’s man. And I know from past experience that Douglas would do this. He’s an asshole like that.
I should tell Charley, but I don’t get the opportunity. The chef jogs over to the front door and opens it. I don’t know how we’re going to run this place with just the three of us, but we don’t have time to discuss it either.
I’m thankful for the place being busy, but I can’t help looking into every man’s eyes to see if it’s Douglas coming to kill me. They aren’t him, none of them are, and by the end of the shift, I’m finally relaxed and feel a bit better.
Maybe it wasn’t him.
Maybe.
“You need me to follow you home? Maybe I should,” Charley mutters as he glances around the bar.
I should tell him no, but I decide that I need to say yes. Because last night freaked me out, and now with the news of Justin, I don’t know what to expect—whoto expect. Flicking my gaze to meet Charley’s, I give him a single nod.
“I think, at least for tonight, yes.”
He snorts. “I don’t know why I even gave you a choice. I was going to follow you home no matter what. Justin said your building is a little rough.”
I let out a laugh. “It’s a straight-up shithole,” I state.
“Let’s get out of here and go to your shithole, then.”
He follows me as we move through the bar, locking things down and turning lights off as we go. Then I stop and spin around to look up at him.
“Charley?” I call out. He hums as his response. “If you’re part of a club, how come nobody else helps out at the bar? We’ve been working every single day, the four of us.”
I don’t know what kind of answer I expect, but it isn’t what he says to me. His gaze finds mine, and his lips twitch into a smirk.
“We’re legit now, yeah, and the bar makes a hell of a lot of cash for the club, but this is just the tip of what we do. My job is to run the bar. I always get one prospect and another brother who can cook. The only person who gets paid an hourly wage is you.”
“Why did you hireme,then?” I ask on a whisper.
He leans over slightly, his eyes finding mine, and he winks. “I could see it in your eyes, babe. You needed to be here. Not sure the shitstorm you got going on in your life, but I wanted to make sure you had a safe place to be while you were livin’ it.”
“That’s really nice,” I rasp.
I know now I have to leave this place, too. I’ve fallen in love with these men, these rough men who are all filled with ooey-gooey goodness beneath their cuts, just like the Devil’s Hellions men.
Charley doesn’t say anything else as he helps me to my car, then he follows me to my apartment and I stick my hand out of the door and wave to show him that I’m inside and safe before I lock the door behind me and look around my little shithole.
Placing my hand on my belly, I wonder how hard it would be to find another OB-GYN somewhere else. Where, though, I’m not sure. Taking my phone out of my pocket, I look for a number that I swore I wouldn’t call.
It rings three times before he answers.
