by K E Osborn
Her façade cracks slightly when she swallows hard, showing a slight weakness at what I’ve said.
So, there’s a story there.
It’s not my place to push and find out, but I do want to know this badass chick’s name. I thrust my hand over the bar to her. “Dash, nice to meet you.”
She takes my hand in hers, a warmth lighting up her face like a bright summer’s day. A dimple in her left cheek dips in as she beams at me in the most sexy fucking way, making everything in this dull, dreary place seem a little bit more cheerful. “Nice to meet you, too, Dash.”
I snort out a laugh. “Not going to tell me your name?” Quickly, I scan her top for a name badge.
“I’m not sure if you deserve to know.”
I bob my head. “Okay… fair call, I see how this is going down. Well, I’ll just have to call you something else in the meantime.”
She folds her arms over her chest. “Oh, this should be good.”
“How ‘bout bar-lerina…” she turns up her lip, “… or thirst-trap?” Her evil glare on me intensifies, “Bar wench—”
“You call me a wench again, and you’ll sure as hell know about it. And not in a good way!”
I chuckle. “Okay, okay… how about… Badass?”
She lifts her chin like she’s thinking intensely, then a slow smile crosses her face making her even more gorgeous than she already is. “Yeah, all right, I can live with Badass.”
Taking another sip of my drink, I give her a wink. “Then a Badass you shall be.”
A loud crashing sound comes from outside the bar. We all turn, looking through the large glass windows to see Harry falling over back into the trash cans again.
“Jesus Christ,” Badass mumbles under her breath, then storms out from behind the bar for the door. I take off after her as she rushes for the exit.
She reaches Harry, landing her long boot into his stomach. He falls onto the pavement with a thud. “Get the hell out of here, you bum, and don’t come back!”
Letting her take care of business, I stand back. She didn’t get that nickname for no reason. Folding my arms over my chest, I watch as she picks him up by his collar and drags him while he stumbles like a drunken fool over to the other side of the road. She plants him on a bench, then pulls out her cell as Harry flops down, completely out of it.
“You need a hand?” I call out.
She glares at me and no shit, that look could take a grown man to his knees in an instant. I raise my hands in surrender while she talks to someone on the other end of the line, her hand waving in the air dramatically as she talks. Within seconds, she ends the call, storms back over to me, grabs my cut, then pulls me inside the bar.
What the fuck!
Her dominance is overwhelming, but for some reason, I follow her lead.
“Cops are coming. So, if you need to, there’s an office out the back you can hide out in while they pick up Harry.”
“Naww, you care about me!”
She shoves me down on a bar stool with a huff. “Shut up, dick, or I’ll retract the offer.”
Honestly, I can’t help the laughter escaping me as she rounds the bar moving back into her usual position.
“You know, I came here wanting to forget. You’ve helped me immensely with that task. Thanks, Badass, you can’t fathom how helpful this little trip to hell has been.”
“That’s what a bar wench is for, remember?”
“I thought we weren’t calling you a wench?”
“Oh, I can, you can’t.”
I let out a snort. It’s nice to be talking to someone who isn’t so fucking serious all the time. Shit at the club is reaching a critical level, and to be honest, it’s fucking good not to have to deal with that crap for a beat.
“So, what’s got you running?” she asks.
And just like that, my chaos is slammed right back in my face.
“Who says I’m running?”
“Guy rides up to a dive bar like this with no reason to enter but drink… he’s running from his life.”
“You trying to psychoanalyze me?”
She chuckles while wiping down a glass. “Hell no, just calling a spade a spade.”
Huffing, I down the rest of the Godfather drink she poured me, the alcohol burning as it slides down my throat. The instant buzz hitting me soon after.
Damn, this woman makes a mean drink.
She hums under her breath. “I get it… it’s a girl, isn’t it?”
I grumble, sliding the glass back on the bar. “I liked it better when I was mocking you. Can we get back to that?”
“She dump you?” she asks, grabbing a beer, pulling off the cap and sliding it my way.
Taking the bottle in my hand, I exhale, as I think about Ivy. With a subtle shake of my head, I huff. “Worse… she friend-zoned me and is flaunting her damn relationship under my nose with my VP.”
She grimaces, flinching back like the bite stung her too. “Ouch! Geez, man, I’m sorry…” she exhales, throwing her rag over her shoulder, “… but seriously, if she is flaunting her shit in front of you, you might want to reconsider this friend-zone thing. Trust me. Being her friend while watching the woman you have a hard-on for with a guy you know…” she scoffs out a laugh, “… that’s asking for trouble.”
“You’re telling me!”
She widens her eyes. “I am telling you. Whatever situation you’re in, man, get the fuck out because it’s not going to end well. For you, I mean.”
A sinking feeling churns in my gut. She’s right. I should tell Nycto, my president, I’m done. Hand in my cut and leave.
But it’s not as simple as that.
I need to think about my brother and sisters, even more so about my mom. Dad was killed by someone, or something bigger than I’ve been able to put my finger on, so I need to be able to protect the rest of my family from the same shit. I can only do that with backing. The type of backing I won’t have if I quit the club now. I spent too many years away from my family when I was young and stupid—I’m back with them now and must protect them at all costs.
Badass reaches out, her hand resting on my forearm. Warmth spreads through my body. A sense of connection, of strength, floods through me, and my eyes meet her ice blues as she lingers on me. “You love her…” It’s a statement, not a question.
I furrow my brows at her words.
Do I love Ivy?
How can I love someone who chose someone else?
Shaking my head, I exhale. “Nope…” Well, I don’t think so. “I’ve never loved a woman, and you should know, right? When you love someone, I mean?”
“Yeah… you’ll know.”
For some reason, I find it comforting. Understanding that I’m not completely undone when it comes to Ivy.
I adore her, yes.
Infatuated, one hundred percent.
But love? I honestly don’t know.
Which is probably all the confirmation I need to tell me I don’t. Maybe that should be enough for me. Maybe it will be the catalyst for me to get over this, whatever this is. Because living my life feeling the way I do—it’s not the life for me.
I glance back up at Badass and smirk. “You know, for a bar wench, you really are a good shrink.”
She flicks out her rag, slapping me across the face with the wet cloth. I burst into a fit of laughter as she walks off to the other side of the bar to serve a customer with a great big smile on her face.
Putting the beer to my lips, I take a sip as the police pull up across the road, ready to pick up Harry. I snicker to myself as they fumble about trying to get the inebriated old fool inside the back seat.
I spin around, preparing myself for a long night with my new favorite bar wench at The Drunken Lime Tavern. “Hey, Badass, you serve food here?” I call out.
She peers over her shoulder. “The best burgers and onion rings this side of Miami.”
“Then baby, hit me up. I’m in this for the long haul tonight.”
She bobs he
r head. “I knew tonight was gonna be a fun shift. Don’t you worry, Dash, I’ll keep you entertained. The night is young, and I’ve only just started getting to know you!” she calls out, heading through the swinging doors where I assume the kitchen is located.
With a chuckle, I sit back, drinking my beer.
This is what I need. A night away from the club to unwind and forget every-fucking-thing Ivy.
Thank fuck for this little badass serving here tonight because I might have just made myself a new friend.
Chapter Two
DASH
The Next Day
Waking up to the sounds of some teeny-bopper music playing, I scrunch up my face, rolling over on the sofa. Groaning to myself, I pull the blanket up higher as soft chuckling comes from the other side of the room.
“If you’re gonna come here drunk, the least you can do is sleep in your old room so I can play my games when I want to.”
Exhaling, I roll on my back, opening my eyes as my ten-year-old brother, Arlo, folds his arms over his chest and Liv, my fourteen-year-old sister, smirks beside him. I groan and sit, dragging my blanket with me. Arlo rushes in beside me, practically sitting on my lap, while Liv moves in next to him as they both pull out the gaming controllers starting the machine. The television blasts with the stupid music, and I curl up my lip as Mom walks in with her usual kind expression.
She stands in the doorway of the kitchen and living room, then raises her brow at me. “Heard you come in at some ungodly hour this morning. You haven’t moved off the sofa all damn day. Doesn’t the club need you today? I thought with it being Labor Day, they would be celebrating… creating chaos, but it looks like you did that all by yourself last night.”
I scrub at my face. “I didn’t drink too much last night. I ate while I was drinking. You don’t need to worry about me, Mom—”
“But I do worry about you, Dash. You’re my firstborn. You have four younger siblings to take care of…” she pauses before continuing, “I worry the club is a bad influence on you.”
Arlo and Liv don’t say anything, they just keep playing their stupid game. I slide Arlo off me, and move to get up, then walk over to Mom. She opens her arms to embrace me, and a slow smile crosses my face. Years of stress lines wear on her face. The sadness is clearly visible in her dull eyes. I hate seeing her this way. There must be a way to take her pain away, and I wish I knew how. Pulling her in for a tight embrace, I hold on tight. “I’m not following in Dad’s footsteps, Mom. I’m gonna keep this family safe. I promise.”
She sniffles, pulling back, her eyes meeting mine. Mom’s hand slides up to caress my cheek. “My boy, what a man you’re becoming.” She sniffles again, clearing her throat. “Now tell me… what’s on your mind that’s got you sleeping here and not at the club?”
My shoulders slump.
Ivy.
Every damn thing always comes back to Ivy.
Mom hums under her breath, and without me saying a word, she states, “It’s that woman you were telling me about. The girl you work with at the club, right?”
Rolling my shoulders, I duck past her into the kitchen, seeing her freshly made cup of coffee sitting on the bench. “I don’t want to talk about her, Mom.” I pick up the cup, taking a long drink.
Mom exhales. “I see… well, she’s an idiot!”
I let out a small laugh and change the subject. “Thanks, Mom…” I scan around the house. “Where’s Zara?”
With a roll of her eyes, Mom sighs. “Cali’s taken her to some lake house with their friends for the Labor Day weekend—”
“Mom, a lake house with friends, means a slutty party with boys.”
“You think I don’t know that? I was their age once, too. Cali is twenty, and I get that Zara is barely eighteen, but Cali is responsible enough to look after her sister. Anyway, they always tell everyone their older brother is a biker with the Royal Bastards if they get into any kind of trouble...” She smiles. “Those words give them all the safety they need.”
Rolling my shoulders, I huff. “I should go to this lake house and check on them.”
Mom tuts. “You’re just like your father, so protective. They’re fine, honey. They’re having fun. Let them be. You need to go back to the clubhouse and deal with your own issues by the looks of things, not hide out here with your family while your club is celebrating.”
Groaning, I curl up my lip. “Why do you have an answer to everything?”
“Because I’m a mother and mothers are fierce. So… go, Dash. Get on your bike and face whatever it is you need to be facing. Be a man. Stand up and do whatever you have to do.”
Taking in a deep breath, I nod my head once.
Do what I have to do. Okay!
“Love you, Mom.” I lean in, kissing her cheek.
“Next time you come by, I want to hear good news, okay, honey?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Turning, I head for the front door passing my two youngest siblings as I go. They’re still deep in the video game they are playing as I reach the door. “Later, brats.”
“I can’t believe you just killed me, Arlo!” Liv calls out, slapping our brother upside the head as he throws his hands in the air in victory.
“Good chat,” I mumble to myself, closing the door behind me.
Walking to my ride, my head is in two places. After spending the night with Badass, she helped me to start thinking about if I can get over Ivy. But in the light of a new day, or afternoon as it were, my mind is reverting back, thinking of ways I can turn this shit around. Mom’s words ‘stand up and do what you have to do’ play over and over in my head. Maybe instead of giving up, I have to fight harder? Maybe I need one last attempt to show Ivy what she’s missing out on?
Jumping on my ride, I make my way back to the club. When I arrive, the clubroom is decorated completely over the top. Eva, Nycto’s Ol’ Lady, has gone all out. The Miami brothers are here causing a ruckus, and as I walk in, Ivy’s in my line of sight. It’s like I have a homing beacon for her built into my psyche. She’s standing by herself drinking something, looking a little lost. My first instinct is to head on over to her, but I need some liquid courage first.
Making my way to the bar, I tap it for Stacey to send me down anything. “You want a beer or something stronger, Dash?”
“Give me something for courage, Stace.”
She raises her chin in understanding and moves for the expensive absinthe bottle. I grit my teeth, rolling my shoulders. Oh shit. Here we go. She pours out the shot, including the slotted spoon with the sugar cube and water. My eyes shift to Ivy, my stomach churning at the thought of going in for round two with her. Slamming the shot down my throat, it burns like I am ingesting pure fucking acid. I hate the taste, but my skin prickles instantly feeling the buzz whirring through my system. I shake my head to relieve the pressure.
Stacey smirks at me. “You good?”
I turn to look at Ivy as Void takes her hand, leading her outside. He says something which must excite her as she practically dances behind him, bounding with each step. Goddammit! I turn back to the bar. “Gimmie another, Stace,” I mumble.
She frowns. “You sure, Dash?”
My eyes meet hers, disappointment flowing through me as she simply gives me a genuine sympathetic smile. She pours the drink, slides it over, and I tip it back, not even caring anymore about the burn it creates inside me. I want the alcohol to whisk me away.
The revving of a bike engine is heard, and I don’t take much notice until it sounds like it’s doing laps around the yard, which isn’t a normal occurrence around here. I raise my brow when Nycto, Eva, and Hatch from Miami walk toward the front door, then outside. My interest piqued, I slide off the stool, instantly wobbling as the two shots hit my system. I blink, my head swirling as I grab the bar for support.
“Easy, Dash. Maybe you should sit for a second?” Stacey recommends.
I wave her off as I put a foot in front of the other, and suddenly, I’m stumbling toward the front door. I p
eer out, my eyes open wide when I see Ivy riding Void’s motorcycle by herself.
Eva’s laughing as Ivy rides past her. “Woo-hoo… go, Ivy! You show these guys how it’s done.”
Ivy’s grinning like the Cheshire cat as I stand in the doorway, watching her. She’s shining so fucking bright, totally in her element. She’s not some wallflower, she’s just like us, a Bastard, a woman who belongs in this club. I’ve never known anyone with as much fight and fire as her.
Except maybe Badass from The Drunken Lime Tavern last night. She could give Ivy a run for her money on smartassery and kickass attitude. I smirk. Even after the hours I spent there last night, I still don’t know her name. Shaking my head at how absurd that thought actually is, I glance back out at Ivy as she shuts down the bike.
Everyone is praising her. She rides like a damn pro, but I don’t need to see this shit. I’ll let her have her moment in the spotlight with my brothers.
Stepping back inside, I decide to chat with her later.
***
The alcohol is hitting my system, making me far more relaxed than I have been in the last twenty-four hours. I’ve been going over in my mind what I need to say to Ivy to convince her to try and see things from my point of view. Maybe I’m too drunk to be doing this now. Two shots of absinthe in a short space of time on an empty stomach, probably wasn’t the best type of liquid encouragement, but here we are—primed and ready to engage.
Ivy’s all alone on the sofa behind the pool table, looking bored, while Void drinks at the other end of the bar. Void hit asphalt not that long ago when he tanked his ride while drunk and high off his ass. So him drinking right now is a pretty fucked-up situation. There’s tension in Ivy’s eyes as she watches Void from across the room. As she sits there, annoyance evident on her face, now is the time to make my move.
I spin on my heel, wobbling a little as I walk, but I got this! I flash my pearly whites at Ivy as I flop down on the sofa beside her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. “Hey, good lookin’, heard you went for a solo ride tonight.” I say ‘heard’ because I don’t want her to know I was spying on her.