“Well,” I finally manage. “It’s a new night. No reason not to try again.” I turn to Shadow. “And Misty?”
Misty is the woman he’s been seeing casually since we got to Denver. She’s also the woman who called in the tip about Josie when the little girl reported a woman being held by her parents at the school Misty works at. I’m grateful for Misty, which means I’m for once grateful for Shadow’s inability to keep his dick to himself. This time, it worked in our favor.
He shrugs his shoulders noncommittally. “We’re leaving in a few days.” It’s his only explanation, and I know that’s all I’ll get from him. Shadow treats every woman he comes across like a princess, but when he’s done, he’s done. He likes to spread the love around.
I force my eyes to keep from following the waitress, but it’s appearing to be an impossibility since she’s walking toward us now. The smile she pulls from me is unintentional, but painted on my face nonetheless.
“Another round?”
“Sure,” I say just as Wrench reaches for and clasps her hand.
Her eyes sweep from their connection to me and then to the side where I assume her husband is sitting. No doubt that asshole is the one hurting her. I have to remind myself to mind my own business. I can’t save every woman. Hell, I couldn’t save the one I loved from birth, and certainly I can’t save someone who has no will to save themselves.
“Wrench,” I chide. “Leave her the fuck alone.” I keep eye contact with her when I speak, but I can tell Wrench has let her hand go.
“Thank you,” she mouths. I nod at her as she walks away.
I take a chug from my beer and glare at Wrench. “If you can’t learn how to behave in public, I’ll make sure you never join us on the road again.”
He huffs but is smart enough not to say a damn word; rather he stands and makes his way to the opposite end of the bar to the line in front of the jukebox.
“Remind me again why that fucker is still around,” I mutter to Kid and Shadow.
“You promised Socket you’d look after him,” Shadow responds.
Fucking Socket. His ass should be here right now, rather than his dumb ass brother.
I finish my second beer and stand giving the redhead near the bar the look I know she gets often. I rap my knuckles on the table top and head toward the restroom. Shadow laughs; Kid grumbles something about blue balls. I would laugh, but I find nothing funny about being thirty years old and walking to the bathroom of a shifty bar to get my dick sucked. As ridiculous as it is, I’m certainly not going to leave here without it happening.
For the first time in as long as I can remember, I miss the girls back at the club. I haven’t touched a woman the entire time we’ve been in Denver; I’ve spent every waking moment looking for Josie. Now that she’s been found, I can’t wait to blow down someone’s throat, and since the waitress is married to an asshole, the redhead will have to do.
I meet the redhead at the center of the bar and drape my arm over her shoulder, turning her in the direction of the restroom sign hanging over an entryway at the back of the bar. Her hand is on my cock before we even make it five steps.
I sigh inwardly at the double standard. She’s a bar slut which makes her unappealing to me outside of this situation, but on the other hand, I’m grateful she is because it’s exactly what I need at the moment. We won’t exchange numbers; I won’t even tell her my name, and the fucked up part? She probably won’t even ask. I’d be surprised if my dick is the only one she touches tonight.
We round the corner, turning down the dark hallway, and my ears register the sound of the slap before my eyes manage to tell my brain what is going on. I see the waitress’ head swing to the side from the impact and look at the sneer on the face of the asshole that was sitting in the bar earlier; the exact one I’d assumed was her abusive asshole husband.
Fury boils over in my veins; the redhead on my side becomes inconsequential as I stride forward and punch the prick directly in his nose. The blood spray from his face isn’t satisfying enough, so I hit him again, and again. I don’t stop until he’s a whimpering puddle, crouched on the filthy floor.
I hear screaming and turn to comfort the waitress, pissed that she’s upset that I hit him, but when I turn around, it’s the redhead I was with a minute before that’s hysterical. I watch her back as she runs from the hallway. I turn my attention to the waitress who is leaning against the wall with a hand clamped over her injured cheek.
“You okay?” I ask taking slow, measured steps in her direction.
She pulls her eyes from the man on the floor to mine and then back down to him. I see the fear the second it hits her face, and I hold my hands up and take a step back. I’m pissed that she’d be afraid of me too but understanding of the situation.
“I’m not going to hurt you, darlin’.” I drop my hands to my side and attempt a casual, non-threatening pose, which is a chore because of my size and build.
Without taking her eyes from him, she says, “He’ll kill me for sure now.”
She raises her eyes to mine at the growl that came unbidden from deep in my throat. “He won’t have the chance.”
I reach for her and guide her by her elbow to the rear exit off of the dark hallway we’re standing in. She seems dazed, and I look over at her wondering how much damage he caused when he struck her. The cool night air that hits us seems to pull her from her trance.
“Wh… what are you doing?” She asks as the door to the bar and the noise of the jukebox closes behind us.
“Getting you out of here,” I tell her and point to my bike parked near the street. “Get on.” I swing my leg over the seat, hit the kickstand with the back of my boot, and wait impatiently as she stands there looking at me like she’s never seen a man on a bike before.
Continue reading HERE
PAIN Page 17