by LJ Baker
It was only ten thirty in the morning, but a drink sounded great. Hopefully that would be able to calm her down just a bit. The place looked upscale, other than the cheesy neon sign of a naked girl that flashed between having devil horns and a tail, and a halo and wings. The open sign wasn’t lit, and for the time of day, she doubted the place was even open, but she reached out and tried the handle anyway, as if some force was pulling her to it.
It opened.
The place was quiet, but not empty. Behind the bar drying glasses, was a dark haired woman, about twenty-five, that was so hot Ronnie would have considered swinging the other way. She was wearing a low-cut top that made her boobs spill over in just the right way. She must have made a fortune off tips dressed like that.
Sitting in front of the hot bartender was a man, maybe thirty, dark hair mussed, in a rumpled business suit with the shirt opened up like he’d been wearing it all night and hadn’t yet gone to bed. Ronnie couldn’t imagine he could look any better after a full night’s rest and a change of clothes.
She was definitely out of her league.
With her hand still on the knob, she stood in the doorway, frozen in place. The warmth was gone, replaced by an icy cool. Everything inside her told her it was a mistake, that she shouldn’t be there, but if Ronnie started making good decisions now, the Earth might just crash into the Sun.
“You gonna come in and have a drink, or stand there sizing us up all day?” The guy waved her over without looking up from the papers in his hands.
Ronnie was never afraid, but something about this guy made her take pause. For a quick moment, she thought about turning around and getting the hell out of there. There was no reason for it of course, but she took note of it before moving forward and sitting down two stools from him.
He glanced at the space between them and flashed her a crooked smile. “I won’t bite. Unless you ask me to.”
When she didn’t move, he slid over one seat, leaving just enough room between them for her not to bolt.
“What are you drinking?”
“Vodka water?”
He glanced down at his watch, raised an eyebrow, and motioned for the bartender to get her drink. “Luc Morningstar.” He held out a hand and she took it without thinking.
“Morningstar… like the devil?”
“Exactly like that.” His eyes swirled green and she could have sworn they had been nearly black just a moment before. “And you are?”
“Ronnie Falcon.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. Before she’d even let go of his hand. She never told random strangers in a bar her full name. What the hell was she thinking? Hell, usually she didn’t even give her real first name. He could be some serial killer, or rapist, or stalker.
His smile widened and she suddenly felt exposed, as if he could look right into her. She pulled her hand away and slipped both between her knees, clamping down.
“I’m Harley.” The hot bartender slapped the drink down on the bar in front of her and smiled. There was something strange about both of them and the way they were looking at her. Ronnie had to glance down at herself to make sure she wasn’t sitting there naked somehow, like in a bad nightmare.
Harley’s eyes were near black, but sparkled, almost as if they’d been photo-shopped right in front of her. The dark silky waves of her hair fell down in a frame around her face and the tips caressed her low-cut top. Her skin was a silky chocolate and flawless, the kind of complexion that usually required hours of air brushing. She was almost too beautiful to be real.
“Uh, nice to meet you both.” Ronnie picked up her drink and took a deep gulp without looking at either of them. She hadn’t had vodka for breakfast since she’d left college six months ago. So much had changed since then. She almost couldn’t remember her life before, as if it happened to someone else, or was all a dream.
Luc took a long pull off his own drink and let his eyes fall away giving Ronnie the chance to breathe. “What brings you out in search of alcohol at such an early hour?”
She took another gulp before she could get the words out of her mouth. “Job interview.”
“I guess it didn’t go so well?” Luc turned his back to the bar and stretched his spine against the wood. Ronnie watched his body elongate and twist, her eyes glued to his muscles straining against the thin fabric of his shirt. She wanted to reach out and touch him, see if he could possibly feel as good as he looked, but she stopped herself at the last second.
What the hell was wrong with her?
“No. The guy was an asshole who was looking for a quiet little mouse to do as he says and blend into the background. Someone who wouldn’t care how often he bumped into her ass on the elevator, or brushed past her tits in the copy room. That isn’t me.”
“No I would bet that isn’t you.” He turned and grazed his eyes over her. Her body heated under his stare. She wanted to turn away, yet at the same time, move closer.
Ronnie felt the path of his eyes as they went over her, drank her in. She couldn’t decide whether she wanted to rip off her clothes and jump in his lap, or punch him in the dick. Instead of making a decision, she downed the rest of her drink.
“So does that mean you’re looking for a job?” The hot bartender interrupted Luc’s eye-rape and held up the bottle of vodka to offer another drink.
“No thanks. Uh, yeah. I still need a job.”
“Do you have any experience with bartending or waitressing?” Luc snapped up, all business now.
“Bartending, no. I did a little waitressing during my first year in college. The thing is, I have another obligation between three and nine, and I have another job on Friday nights.”
She had to be around for the kids after school, to make sure they did homework, ate dinner, and stayed off crack. Not that they were in danger of heavy drug usage just yet, but she wasn’t taking the risk. She was already screwing up enough. She also wasn’t giving up the fights. They paid far too much and she needed the money.
Raising three kids was expensive.
“That’s a little restrictive.” Luc raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, that’s why I was looking for a day job, but I’m guessing you don’t have a great need for that around here.” Ronnie waved an arm around the empty bar.
“It’s not even eleven a.m. Things get busier after noon, but we definitely need the help at night.”
Ronnie spun on the barstool and stood. “Well thanks for the drink.” She slapped a ten on the bar, but the hot bartender shook her head, handing the money back to her.
“On the house.”
She stuffed the money back into her pocket and turned to leave. Before she got to the door, Luc called after her.
“Can you start tomorrow, Ms. Falcon?”
“I uh, seriously?” She walked back over and narrowed her eyes at Luc. “Why would you hire me?”
“You’re hot and you have a great ass. You’d look sinful in the uniform.”
Ronnie scanned the bar looking for stripper poles, or something that would make sense of things.
“Uniform?”
“Booty shorts and a crop top,” Harley said. “The customers do get a little frisky, but you can’t knock them on their ass unless they get too out of line. For the most part, they behave. So should I grab you some clothes?”
“You don’t even know me. Why would you offer me a job? Especially with the hours I’m available.”
“I thought we just covered that.” Luc shot her a blank look and placed his empty glass on the bar to wait for the offer to sink in.
“What exactly do I have to do? What are the hours? I’m not a stripper. You do realize that, right? There is no way in hell I’m taking my clothes off for money, no matter how much you pay.”
“Well now, I didn’t say we pay much, nor did I ask you to take off your clothes. Of course, if you wanted to do that, we could discuss it in private at another time.” Luc flashed her a crooked smile and pushed off the bar stool. “Look, all we’re look
ing for is a waitress. You serve drinks and keep the drunks happy. The hours are negotiable and pay is mostly tips. If you want the job, it’s yours.”
“You’re really hiring me?” She watched Luc take a few steps closer and extend a hand out to her.
“Welcome aboard, Ronnie Falcon. I’m looking forward to getting to know you a lot better.”
She took his hand, but even as she did, she knew it was going to be trouble. His eyes were back to black and she wasn’t sure if she’d imagined them green before. She had to have. No one’s eyes changed from green to black. That just didn’t happen. But damn if she didn’t want to feel more than his eyes on her as he released her hand and disappeared into the back.
After Luc was gone, Ronnie looked back to Harley. “Is he for real?”
“You mean about the job?”
“The job… and everything else. I can’t quite put my finger on the vibe he’s giving off, but there’s something about him.”
Harley’s eyes twinkled and she smiled. “Lucifer is certainly unique. So you’re taking the job, right?”
“Hell yeah. It’s not a law firm, but it pays and right now, that’s what really matters.”
Ronnie waited for Harley to run in back and grab her the work uniform. It was similar to what Harley had on, but with less leather and spikes. She was grateful for that at least. The last thing she expected when she woke up that morning was to end up with a job in a bar, but as she learned recently, life had a way of throwing curve balls that she wasn’t expecting.
At least she’d found a job.
Chapter Four
“Are you sure about this, Ronnie? That chick is like six-three and has a hundred pounds on you.” Lizzie taped up Ronnie’s hands and readied her to face the giant Amazonian woman glaring at her from across the ring. “She is going to kill you.”
Across the room, the woman punched her fist into her palm and smiled right at Ronnie. It was the kind of smile that said I’m going to enjoy pounding your face into pulp.
“Nah. Maybe break a few bones, but when has that ever made me back down?” Ronnie finished braiding both sides of her hair and swirled it into a bun so she couldn’t be swung around by it. She’d left it down once and learned her lesson. It was a very painful lesson.
Long hair for a fighter was asking for trouble. She had to at least make an effort to keep it secured because there was no way she was cutting it off. Most fighters kept their hair cropped short, but Ronnie was attached to hers. It made her look like a younger version of her mother and she wasn't ready to give that up.
Maybe she should have worn it that way for her job interview. It covered the blue streaks perfectly. Not that she was too broken up over not having to see that asshole five days a week. She needed the money, sure, but she had to keep a little of her dignity.
Lizzie helped pin Ronnie’s hair back and keep it from falling out before the fight was over. Ronnie knew she wasn’t expecting it to go too long. Not that she blamed her for her lack of confidence. Ronnie wasn’t delusional. She knew what she was getting into. She just wasn’t going to let Lizzie know she knew.
“You want your ass kicked, don’t you?” Lizzie huffed and looked over her friend.
“Of course not. Why would you even ask me that?”
“Because that’s what you do. It's how you deal with stress. Ever since you were a kid, you would pick fights with the biggest kid you could find, knowing you couldn’t win, then get the shit kicked out of you. It’s like you enjoy getting the crap beat out of you.”
“I do not.” Ronnie stared at her with a blank look.
“You do. Look, I realize these last few months have been tough on you. With your parents death and having to leave school, plus having three bratty kids dumped in your lap, I can’t even imagine how you’re coping. But you don’t need to let this bitch fuck up your face to let off some steam. Your face is nice. Let's keep it that way. Go out, get drunk, and pick up a random hot guy, like everyone else does.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Ronnie rolled her eyes and hopped down off the bench to shake out her arms and stretch her legs. “Anyway, I’m doing this for the money. I thought you understood that.”
“That was before. I thought you got a job? Why are you still doing this shit?”
“I did. Waitressing. That isn’t going to pay the bills and keep three kids clothed and fed. My parents struggled to manage with both of them working. I’m on my own and over the last six months, I’ve blown through most of the life insurance. You know I need this gig. Now have a little faith in me, Liz. If you don’t believe I can win, who will?”
“No one. Have you seen the bets against you? It’s like twenty to one and I think that’s only because some people felt bad for you.”
“Who did you bet on?” Ronnie raised a brow, already knowing the answer.
“Amazon chick of course.” Lizzie snorted and handed Ronnie her mouth guard. “I know what you can and can’t handle. I might as well make some cash off it.”
“I shouldn’t have asked.” She shook her head slow, side to side, to feign disappointment. It was all an act. Ronnie knew she was likely to lose and her best friend should certainly make some cash off it.
“Who’s watching the kids tonight?” Liz peeked around the corner to the ring and shook her head.
“Mae is in charge, but apparently she’s been sneaking out after I leave. Freddy ratted her out this morning as we were about the leave. Then he told me I should punish her, because that's what our mother would have done. You should have seen the look on his face. The disappointed frown was a mirror image of dad. You know you’re a failure when even your eleven year old brother is disappointed in you.”
“Good thing Jen is responsible. Maybe the little runt is right and you should punish her?”
“Oh yeah. I’ll just bring her here every week to keep an eye on her. Look little sis, come watch me punch the shit out of another girl so I can support you and your bratty, ungrateful brother and sister. Then I can bring her to hang out at the bar the rest of the week for good measure. Great teaching moment.”
“Bringing her to work is not the only way to punish her.”
“No, but how am I supposed to enforce anything, if I’m not around? What is going to stop her from sneaking out while I’m gone when she’s punished, any more than when she’s not?”
Liz didn’t answer. There was no need. They both knew there were no good solutions to this mess. Or, if there were, they certainly didn’t have them. What did a couple of twenty-three year-olds know about raising a teenager? It wasn’t so long that they were one themselves. And God knew, they certainly didn’t behaving any better than Mae at that age.
They walked around to the side of the ring, ignoring the screams and calls from the crowd. They were a little more rowdy than usual, but Ronnie didn't care. As long as she got paid, they could act like animals all night long.
The place smelled of sweat and cigarette smoke, enough to make the strongest of stomachs turn. Ronnie climbed over the ropes across the cage entrance to take her seat in the corner and did her best to block out the noise.
Lizzie wasn’t done with her lecture about the fights. She knew her well enough to know it wouldn’t be dropped so easy. But it wasn’t like she had much choice. She wasn’t going to let her siblings go to foster care and they couldn’t live on the street. She needed cash. Plus if she was being honest, she enjoyed the hell out of the fights. Even when she lost.
The buzzer sounded, signaling the one minute warning. The cage door was slammed shut and both fighters jumped up to take their place. Lizzie stood outside the ring to wait for the round to end.
Close up, Ronnie got a better look at the arms on the other chick. She had better do a decent job dodging or she’d be knocked out in the first round. And since first round KO’s paid less, she needed to hang in for as long as possible.
The Amazonian, whose name was apparently Penelope of all things, bounced on her feet, shaking out her
arms. She was ready to pounce the second the buzzer sounded again, and for a brief flash, Ronnie felt a flood of nerves. She looked out into the crowd for Lizzie, or anyone else that might be familiar, but the place was dark and all the faces blended together.
It wasn’t until Joe, the frat boy who ran the fights, started introducing them, that she noticed one face that stood out. Pushing to the front row, face only inches from the cage, his dark eyes found hers. His mouth came up into a crooked smile as she recognized him from earlier that day and she felt her body heat.
Luc.
Just a split second before the buzzer sounded, he mouthed “Go,” at her and she snapped her head back to her opponent. The round started and Penelope lunged at her. She got out of the way just in time, but stumbled over her own feet, landing on the mat hard on her hip. Ronnie never claimed to be the most coordinated fighter, but at least she knew how to take a hit.
And hopefully tonight, dish some out.
Not wasting the opportunity, Penelope threw herself down, intending to land smack on top of Ronnie, but she rolled out of the way, narrowly missing the giant. The best strategy was to stay out of her reach. At least until she tired out a bit.
The stench of sweat and beer filled the room. It was the same every week. It didn't matter where the fights were held. The venue was irrelevant. All that mattered was the two fighters, face to face, ready for pain. Whether it was inflicting, or receiving, there was little difference. At least to Ronnie, there wasn’t.
Since the only rule to these underground fights was to stop when the buzzer sounded, it was pretty much anything goes. Ronnie had seen girls leave in an ambulance before, never to return to the matches, and she didn’t want to be next.
She couldn’t afford to be next.
“Come closer you little bitch. Let’s see if you can take a punch.” Penelope snarled around her mouth guard as drool dripped down from the corners of her lips.