King's Country (Oil Kings Book 4)

by Marie Johnston

  “Sorry to pass, but—”

  “Not taking no for an answer, King.” Samuel swaggered to a group of tables in the corner. “King is here. Check it out. Hell’s frozen over. He’s with Cartwright and she’s cleaned up gooood.”

  More obnoxious laughter. Half the guys around the table laughed nervously. The other half shifted uncomfortably and studied the tabletop. I couldn’t be the only one afraid of what would come out of Samuel’s mouth. Maybe they were afraid of what would come out of Bristol’s too.

  So, this was a shitty start to our date. A little too reminiscent of our first date. I steered Bristol away.

  “King. Wait.” Samuel elbowed his way back to us. “The party’s over here.”

  “I’m sorry to miss it, but we’re just here for a bite to eat.”

  Samuel threw an arm around my shoulders and another around Bristol’s, forcing his way between us. “It’s my special night, King. I don’t have many more nights left as a single man.”

  Bristol ducked out of his hold. I stopped, which was a feat with Samuel’s inebriated weight hanging off me. “I’ve gotta go, man.”

  “You’re not going anywhere. Drink. It’s on me.” He shoved his hands in the air. “It’s all on me tonight, boys!” He snickered and loudly whispered in my ear. “Bristol’s one of the boys anyway. Don’t worry about it.”

  “She’s not—”

  He lurched away, beckoning to the server and yelling for a pitcher of beer.

  Bristol lifted a brow and edged away.

  I caught her hand. “I think it’d be easier to take our pizza and go.”

  She gave her head a little shake like she hadn’t heard me correctly. “Just tell him no.”

  Samuel didn’t do well with no. “Maybe we can sit for a little while.” I nodded toward an empty tall table in the corner. The chairs had been taken, but we could stand and eat until Samuel forgot about us.

  “Or . . . we could do what we came here to do and Samuel can fuck off.”

  “Samuel can fuck off,” I agreed.

  She folded her arms. “So tell him that.”

  I sighed and turned my back to the bachelor party crowd. The rest of the bar was filling up with couples and groups. They were taking the tables the farthest from Samuel’s crowd. “He’s my insurance agent. I’m not going to his wedding. If I skip his bachelor party . . .”

  “Then he still gets your business and . . . what? I don’t see a downside.”

  “It’s . . . rude.”

  Disappointment rippled through her emerald eyes. “And Dawson King is anything but rude.”

  My jaw tightened. “I’m not stooping to his level.” To Bristol, I must look like a spineless ass. I tried to clarify. “I have to do business with him, Bristol. I don’t want to call him up about a claim and hear about how I skipped both his wedding and bachelor party for a half an hour. Then he’ll tell the whole office and we’ll have a good laugh and he’ll try to guilt me into higher premiums.” I’d seen him do it to others. Clients would agree to anything to get him to shut up. Hell, I’d done it myself. It was why my deductible was so low when I could afford to pay for a higher one. “Look, if I play nice now, it saves me a helluva headache in the future.”

  She studied him. “Why not switch somewhere else? My insurance company is online.”

  “Support local.”

  “What about when local doesn’t support you?” Her question rang with curiosity. “He’s purposely screwing you over.”

  I had no argument. Our experiences in King’s Creek were different. The locals supported me and I tried to do the same. “Can we just grab a bite?” My question snapped out harsher than intended. This night couldn’t be over with fast enough. I hadn’t wanted a repeat of Hogan’s but this time I felt like I was the one ruining it.

  Her expression blanked. “Sure.”

  How could I save this night?

  As we went to the table, I nodded at a couple more guys sitting around Jamie. Broden Haggins from the gas station. Shelb Old Rock from the grain elevator. Guys I would’ve liked to talk to on an ordinary night at the bar. Guys who’d probably be decent to Bristol after they got over their shock. Without the bachelor party, tonight would’ve been the night I’d planned.

  We stood at the table. I tried leaning against the wall, but the window frame bit into my shoulder. I straightened but then it looked like I was conducting an interview. I scanned the bar, looking for the server Samuel had no problem flagging down.

  “She probably won’t be by to take our order.”

  “Danika? Why?”

  Bristol ran her bottom lip through her teeth. “Because Darren Morrel brushed her off to go out with me seven years ago.”

  “But they’re married now.”

  “She holds a grudge. I didn’t know he’d been seeing someone or I would’ve steered clear of that drama. Thankfully, nothing but a few beers happened before I figured out she was prone to drama and would fight to the death for Darren.” She lifted a shoulder. “At least she hates me for something other than being shit poor with an ornery dad.”

  Danika should brush off her husband, since I’d heard he’d seen a few back seats since saying I do.

  Bristol stepped away. “I’m going to go to the bathroom. Maybe she’ll come over while I’m gone.”

  As she wound her way through the bar, her back straight, her chin high, my hopes for tonight shriveled.

  Chapter 12

  Bristol

  I finished drying my hands under the blow-dryer. The silence of the bathroom seeped into my bones and I let my head fall back. The bar was so loud. Samuel’s yelling had put my nerves on edge. He was an egotistical jackass and his shouting wasn’t aimed at me, but it didn’t mean I liked it.

  Taking another look in the mirror, I paused. If someone came in here and saw me checking myself out, I would melt into a pool of embarrassment. This wasn’t me. I never cared if my hair was just right or if my clothing was just so. I barely had enough makeup on to worry about smudging, but I verified everything was in place anyway.

  Before I could get busted, I stepped into the hallway. How slow could I walk back to the table that was too close to Samuel’s party?

  “Bristol, a word?”

  My entire body tensed at that voice behind me and the gotcha tone that went with it. Errol, the owner and manager of The Tap, loomed under the red glow of the exit sign. He’d never cut Pop off. I’d tried talking to him, but he’d claimed Pop was an adult and it was “only business.” It hadn’t mattered if Pop couldn’t see straight enough to hold his pickup key, Errol had kept pouring.

  I didn’t spare him a glance. “Not tonight, Errol.” I didn’t owe him a minute of my time.

  “Then leave.”

  I stopped and tipped my head. How could he think he had a right to kick me out? “And why would I have to leave?”

  “Danika ain’t going to serve you.”

  If Danika didn’t serve all the women that Darren made googly eyes at, hit on, or messed around on her with—just since they’d been married—she’d have male-only clientele. He’d married her, so now he couldn’t blow her off when another pair of legs caught his interest. She deserved better than him, but I’d pointed it out years ago when he’d acted like she didn’t exist and she’d done everything short of covering her ears.

  “Then Danika’s costing you business,” I pointed out.

  “I told her not to serve you until you pay your tab.”

  When would I have run up a tab? Oh. Right. “Pop’s debts aren’t mine. Do you need to see his death certificate?”

  “Danny’s debts are yours when he charges them to the ranch.”

  My mind whirled, trying to undo the wrongness of his statement. “And why, exactly, would a bar let a ranch start a tab?” Pop wasn’t buying booze for the ranch. He’d been a party of one drinking his sorrows down.

  Errol folded his beefy arms and stared me down. His handlebar mustache twitched under his nose as he sniffed. He held
my gaze and the answer unfolded between us as if invisible words ghosted out of his lips.

  It’d been a matter of time before Pop died. Car accident. Alcohol poisoning. Cirrhosis. Bar fight. Errol had wanted his money and he’d thought I’d be good for it.

  “You let him run up a tab, thinking I could pay it off when he passed.”

  “Well, you’re here.” He looked over my shoulder. “Danika says you’re with a King. You must be good for something.”

  “Fuck you, Errol.”

  “You ain’t never said that in all the years I’ve known you. Did I hit a nerve?” He rolled his shoulders, keeping his arms crossed. The red glow of the sign lit his bald scalp like a sinister halo. “Look, I don’t care if you’re sleeping with him so he can pay off all your daddy’s debts, I only care that you find a way to pay for mine.”

  “You can’t expect to get taken seriously for a bar tab you let an alcoholic take out against his failing business.”

  “You wanna get some legal counsel and find out? Because if I have to pony up a retainer fee, that’s going on your tab too.”

  Suffocating frustration clawed its way up my throat. I ground my teeth together and glared at him. I couldn’t pay. Danika wouldn’t serve me or Dawson until my “tab” was settled. I didn’t bother to ask how much the tab was. I wasn’t wasting my hard work on this hole in the ground.

  “Everything all right here?” Dawson said. He stopped next to me, his hand going around my waist like he’d done when we’d entered.

  I held my glare on Errol. “No. But then I don’t expect anything less out of a shithole like this.”

  “I can do a lot of renovations with what your ranch owes,” Errol countered.

  “You took advantage of a sick man. You’re a piece of shit.”

  A young girl just past drinking age shot a wide-eyed look at me before she slipped into the bathroom. Guess I’d be keeping my mega-bitch reputation.

  Errol’s mustache twitched. “Tell yourself what you want to. I’ll send the bill in the mail.” He disappeared into the storeroom.

  “Asshole,” I growled under my breath and pivoted to storm down the hallway. I was done with this place. “I want to go.”

  “Bristol, what—”

  “I just want to go.”

  I sped out of the hallway and crashed into Danika. Her tray of drinks clattered to the floor, glass shattering and liquid spraying my feet.

  “What the hell?” she shrieked. Her eyes narrowed on me and she slammed her hands on her hips.

  “It was an accident,” Dawson said, angling himself between us like I’d waste my time getting into a fight with her.

  I skirted past the mess. “Put it on my tab,” I called over my shoulder.

  I didn’t care if Dawson was behind me. I stormed out, and after the mess I’d left behind, no one got in my way.

  Breezing outside, I finally let myself wonder what I’d do if Dawson didn’t follow me. I couldn’t say I’d blame him. Where I went in town, chaos followed. I attracted the idiots and assholes and I refused to put up with them.

  “Bristol. Dammit. Wait.”

  Any relief I felt at his voice died with his words. I whirled on him. “For what? To get humiliated some more? So Errol can hand me the bill he charged to the ranch because Pop said it was okay?”

  “He did what?” He shook his head. “That’s dirty.”

  Yeah. And I was sick of it. I was sick of this town and feeling like I wasn’t a part of it when I’d been born and raised here.

  Jamie came out of the bar with Shelb and Broden. His eyes lit up when they landed on us. “Hey, you two going to Miller’s instead?”

  The other bar in town had cut Pop off. He’d never visited there, and since he’d stayed away, I’d had no reason to go.

  “We’re not staying,” was all Dawson said.

  “Us either.” Shelb snorted and grinned at me. “Jamie and I left a couple of twenties for the drinks that got dropped. Thank you.”

  I couldn’t detect sarcasm in his tone and my confusion grew. Why would they pay and then thank me?

  Broden bobbed his head and scratched at the stubble lining his thick jaw. “Yeah. It was the perfect distraction for Samuel. We made our escape.”

  “I have a sitter for a couple more hours,” Jamie said. “My wife’s almost done with work. Want me to have her meet us at Miller’s?”

  Shelb checked his phone. “My wife’s bartending. I’ll have her save us a table.” He grimaced. “It’ll be quieter.”

  Dawson met my gaze. “Want to go?”

  His question was simple, but there were several questions inside of it that streamed across his whiskey eyes. Are you still so pissed off that you’re ready to say fuck this whole town? Do you want to see if the third time is the charm? Can you trust me that this entire town isn’t full of people out to hurt you?

  The last unspoken question resonated. I trusted him, but did I trust my own reaction the next time someone pissed me off? I wasn’t diplomatic like Dawson. A large part of me didn’t want to be.

  I knew the other guys, but I’d never had a reason to interact with them. I’d have to find out. “Sure. Let’s go.”

  Dawson didn’t say anything until we got into his pickup. “Say the word, and we’ll leave.”

  “Even if you have to do business with them?” My reply was snippy and I regretted it. I understood what Dawson meant. But at the same time, I didn’t. I let out a sigh. “What if I can’t go anywhere without the same thing happening?”

  “I get it, but this town isn’t just full of idiots. You have to deal with a deeper pool of them because of your dad. Samuel is obnoxious to everyone. He told me once that it was too bad the ranch kept me in town like a mouse dying on sticky paper. Said I should gnaw off my own foot in order to be free.”

  “But he moved back here to sell insurance.”

  “Yep. And Errol has a bad reputation for tacking on fees to every bulk order, but he’s the only off-sale in town, so people just grumble behind his back about stocking fees and special-order costs instead of driving to a liquor store in Miles City.”

  I leaned my head against the headrest. Streetlights flashed through the cab. Couples and groups wandered up and down Main Street, going between Hogan’s and Miller’s and a wedding dance at the Eagles’ club.

  Dawson lifted his fingers off the steering wheel to wave every couple of seconds. “See all these people? They aren’t at The Tap. I know my family goes there a lot, out of habit. And if your dad went there, it makes sense there’s more people there that’ll start shit with you.” He curled his hand around mine. “I know I shouldn’t have given in to Samuel on our date. But not everyone’s bad.”

  “The bad ones get away with it. I think that’s what upsets me. I can’t do anything about it.” I didn’t have Dawson’s money and reputation. I couldn’t afford to take my business elsewhere. Standing up for myself cost me opportunities and I didn’t always have the means to find new ones out of town.

  “It’ll get better, Bristol.”

  I wanted to believe him, but my mind churned over Errol’s announcement. How was I going to pay for that?

  Pondering the cost kept my mind off the group of people we were meeting. I knew who they all were. Jamie had ignored me in school, which was the most I could have asked for. His wife was a few years younger than me. Shelb was older than all of us, same for his wife. I had no idea who Broden was married to.

  Dawson parked along the street. Miller’s looked smaller than it was. The brick two-story building, longer than it was wide, had been around as long as the town. When we walked in, the hardwood floor echoed under Dawson’s boots.

  The other guys piled in behind us. The woman behind the bar glanced over, her gaze stopping on Shelb. Her curls bounced as she nodded toward a large round table in the corner. The middle of my back didn’t burn with stares like it had at The Tap. Our group earned perfunctory glances as we passed. A couple of women reclined in front of video gambling mac
hines. Tables with two or three people around them were scattered through the main floor, but for having as many people as The Tap, it was quieter.

  My shoulders inched down as I relaxed. Dawson pulled out my seat before he sat in his own.

  Shelb’s wife came over and doled out small, square napkins with quick, efficient movements. “I didn’t think you’d last that long,” she said to her husband.

  Shelb snorted. “It was going downhill fast. The more beer got poured, the more I worried what would come out of that kid’s mouth.” He shook his head and feathered his fingers over his dark hair. “Cass, have you met Bristol Cartwright?”

  I tensed at the intro. The knowing look would be next. Or the loaded “Oh” as my last name registered.

  Cass rounded the table and rubbed my back. “Sorry to hear about your dad. What can I get you to drink, hon?”

  Her touch catapulted me into the past when Pop would take me to the diner on the corner, the one that’d open at five a.m. to its crowd of regulars with their eyes on caramel rolls the size of their head. One of the older waitresses used to float around me, patting my back and squeezing my shoulder like I’d seen grandmothers do all over town. Cass was probably the same age that waitress had been, and she also didn’t care whether anyone wanted her to mother hen all over them or not.

  I managed not to stammer. “A Sprite, please.”

  She switched her hand to Dawson’s shoulder. The woman was a toucher. “Been a while, Dawson. How’s it going?”

  “Thought I’d keep Shelb out of trouble while you were working.”

  Shelb leaned back. “He was going to bail on the bachelor party and walked right into it.”

  Jamie and Broden snickered, earning a rueful glare from Dawson.

  Cass clucked. “I can’t stand him. I keep telling Shelbie to switch our policy over. If the guy has to recruit his own clients to have a bachelor party, that should say something.”

  “Right?” I could’ve fist-bumped her.

  Oops. Had I stepped out of line?

  Cass winked at me. “Smart minds, hon.”

  As she got the rest of the orders, Jamie’s wife, Natalie, showed up. Then Broden’s girlfriend arrived, gushing about how she’d been home in her pajamas. Both women smiled when they were introduced to me. They didn’t handle me like Cass, but I didn’t sense anything other than friendliness.