by Debra Kayn
Her phone vibrated. She took the cell out of her pocket and found a text from Susan, her old co-worker at the woman's shelter. Setting the phone on the bar, so the next time she got a break she could text back, she stepped away to serve her customers.
"Have you worked here long," asked a man sitting at the far end of the bar on a stool where she had to pass to get out to the main floor.
She pulled on the tap and filled a mug. "A few months."
"You look like a pro." The man used his pointer finger to tip his baseball cap higher and sported a grin.
Older than the average age of the large group that came in, he must be a lone traveler with bad timing. She set the drinks on a tray and looked up at the man again. "I'll be right back to get your order."
"No hurry, darling. I'm not going anywhere." He dipped his chin.
She weaved between the people and catered to her tables where it seemed everyone ordered appetizers. Penny was going to love that. The locals usually stopped ordering from the kitchen at ten o'clock, even though the cook stayed until closing. Penny used the extra time to clean the kitchen because she refused to let the cleaning people into her domain around her tools.
"Raelyn, how late is the kitchen open?" Heather yelled over the noise of the room.
Raelyn scrunched her nose. "We'll keep it open fifteen more minutes, so tell everyone to get their orders in."
"Got it." She held the tray above the heads of those seated and went to the kitchen. "I've got orders, Penny."
She clipped each one on the wheel and hurried back behind the bar to help Raelyn. She started with the man who'd talked to her at the end of the bar and worked her way down to the customer nearest the cash register. Once all the drinks were handed out, she returned to the floor and checked in with Gia and Bethanee.
"Make sure you inform them the kitchen is closed when you serve their plates." Heather slipped her order pad and pen into the small apron she wore. "I'm going to speed them up on drinks, and hopefully when the call goes out to shut down the bar, they'll mosey along."
Gia nodded. "Good plan."
"I'll trade Table Number Eight for one of yours." Bethanee put her hands together in front of her. "Please?"
Heather half-turned, looking at the table in question. She guessed the six men ranged in age from twenty-one to twenty-five. "No way."
"Nope," said Gia. "You're on your own."
"I hate you both." Bethanee sashayed away.
The worst customers were those new to the bar scene. Young, male, big ego, and lousy tippers. She worked her way back to the kitchen at the same time Penny put two dishes under the warmer.
"Thanks, Penny." She served the food.
Four trips later, she had all her customers settled and looked up at the clock. Only one more hour to go.
She walked behind the counter. "Need any help, Raelyn?"
Raelyn set a shot glass on the counter. "Nope. I've got these fine folks taken care of."
The man at the end of the bar sat spinning his mug of beer. His gaze on the liquid rolling against the rim of the glass. She tilted her head. He hadn't consumed a drop.
"Everything okay with your drink?" she asked.
His hands stopped and the liquid sloshed over the side of the mug. She sucked in her breath. He wasn't looking at her but through her.
"Alcohol muddles the mind," he said.
She relaxed. Many times since starting work at the bar, she'd witness a person walk into the bar and sit by themselves. A few had even ordered a drink and played with it while they kept to themselves. When asked, they usually told her some version that they were recovering alcoholics testing themselves on whether it was worth taking the first drink after being sober.
While she empathized with their dilemma, she refrained from adding her thoughts to their problem and left them to play Russian Roulette, hoping to win, and wanting to lose.
Picking up a glass, she filled it with ice and water, then placed it in front of him. At least he now had another option.
"The bar closes soon. The water will wake you up before you need to go home," she said, keeping her voice low.
He leaned forward. "It can be dangerous to drive alone at night."
"Excuse me?" She removed her hands from the counter.
"Sometimes those closest to us will also be the first to cause us harm." He lifted his beer and guzzled the whole drink. When he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, he said, "Disappointment only makes people more determined."
She stared, trying to make sense of his conversation. His odd comments were more the ramblings of a drunk, except his hand was steady, his eyes clear, and his voice—she shivered—there was something oddly disturbing as if he recited poetry when he spoke.
His mug hit the counter. She flinched and stepped around the end of the bar to check on her customers, and the strange man grabbed her wrist. His grip hurt and his sudden movement startled her. She jerked her arm. He released her at the same time, and her elbow banged into the counter with forced momentum. She screamed in pain, cradling her arm to the front of her.
Large hands gripped her waist. She twisted her body to get away, expecting the man to grab her again and found her dad's concerned face in front of her.
"Are you okay?" said her dad. "What happened?"
She winced at the gruffness in his voice, the throbbing in her elbow, and glanced behind her dad but the man who'd grabbed her was gone.
"I-I'll be okay." She cupped her elbow, afraid of anyone else bumping her arm. "The man...the one at the bar. He grabbed my arm and wouldn't let go. I hit my elbow on the edge of the counter when I pulled away."
Her dad kept his hand at Heather's back and motioned over her head. Mel came to him. Heather raised her shoulder to wipe her cheek. God, it hurt like a bitch.
"Go outside and look for a man with a baseball cap on," said her dad.
Heather turned toward her dad's chest. "I'm okay."
Her dad ignored her, issuing orders to two more Ronacks members. She had no chance to say anything more because Raelyn and Gia took her into the kitchen.
"You've got blood soaking through your bandage." Gia held Heather's hand. "We'll have Swiss check your wound when he's done."
Raelyn moved closer. "I saw that man grab you and then you almost went to your knees. Swiss got to you before I could even figure out why you screamed."
"I'm sorry I caused a scene." She sat down in the chair Gia pushed in front of her. "I'm probably holding you up from closing the bar."
"Don't give it a second thought. Gia's going to stay back here with you. I'll go out and help Bree clear the bar. I'll make the Ronacks members earn their keep." Raelyn winked. "Don’t worry about anything but making your elbow better."
Alone with Gia, Heather lowered her voice. "That man was crazy."
"How so?" Gia pulled over another chair and sat in front of her.
"He said totally random sentences. Something about alcohol not being good for you and not to drive alone at night." She shivered. "He looked right through me. It was creepy."
"I'll go get Swiss. He needs to know." Gia stood.
"No, don't bother him. The guy is probably long gone, and even if they catch him, he was probably a drunk." She shrugged. "Risks of working in a bar and all that jazz."
Gia sat back down. Heather's elbow eased to a deep throbbing, and she yawned. Could the day get any worse?
Her dad pushed through the kitchen door. "Stay in the kitchen. We're locking down the bar."
"What's going on?' asked Gia, laying her hand on Heather's knee.
Her dad's mouth tightened. "Mel looked at the security tape. The man who grabbed Heather was Rod's brother. I don't want either of you leaving the kitchen until I find out what the fuck is going on."
Cold swept through Heather's body. She turned and stared at Gia, looking for answers and getting none. If Rod's brother was at the bar, where was Rod?
Chapter Twenty Seven
Rod held the cell to his e
ar and motioned for Battery across the room at the Laundromat. His chest tightened over the news of his brother grabbing Heather at the bar. "Is she okay?"
"She banged her elbow and is confused because the attack came out of nowhere while she was working but otherwise, she's fine," said Swiss over the phone.
Battery approached Rod. He hit the speaker button and held the phone in between them. "How long ago was my brother at the bar?"
"Fifteen minutes, tops. Mel identified him off the security tape as the man we escorted out of town at your request and Grady verified it was Tim from the profile picture we have at the clubhouse. Tonight, he wore a navy baseball cap, black windbreaker-type coat."
"Okay, I'll come to the bar," said Rod. "I'll send the riders who are here with me out on the town. He can't get far. Whatever you do, don't leave Heather's side."
"That's a given. I'm keeping everyone here until we hear otherwise," said Swiss. "See you when you get here."
Rod disconnected the call and faced Battery. "Take the others and find my brother. When you get him, keep him somewhere out of town and call me. I need to see Heather."
"She's okay?" Battery laid his hand on Rod's shoulder.
"Yeah, but I need to see for myself."
"Understood." Battery nodded and dropped his hand. "I'll round up the others. If your brother can be found, we'll get him."
"Prez." Rod slowed his words despite his heart racing. "He's dangerous, and he's smart. Don't turn your back on him."
Battery lifted his chin. "Go see your woman and we'll go get your brother."
Rod jogged out of the building and rode off on his Harley. He'd walked away from Heather knowing the club had her protected. He should've known that his brother would find a way to her. His brother only wanted to fuck with her, because Tim knew it would cause Rod the most pain to go after someone he loved.
Intent on studying the sidewalks, the alleys, the parking lots of the businesses he passed, his eyes blurred from the night air. He blinked, breaking his stare and clearing his vision. Somewhere out there, his brother gloated in his success.
He turned left and rolled into the lot behind Pine Bar and Grill. As soon as the kickstand hit the ground, he jumped off the bike and jogged to the back door.
Swiss opened the bar to him before he could reach the building. He looked to his MC brother for news.
"Where's Heather?" he asked.
"She's in the kitchen with the others." Swiss locked the door and followed Rod through the bar.
Mel and Raelyn spotted him and moved back out of the doorway. He squeezed inside, scanning the room and spotted her. His chest tightened.
Heather sat on a chair, leaning her head against Gia's hip, her eyes closed. He gazed down her body and back up to her elbow where a bigger bandage than normal wrapped around her arm. Unable to stay away from her, he stepped forward, and Swiss grabbed his arm stopping him from reaching Heather.
"She's exhausted," whispered Swiss. "It's been a rough twelve hours for her on top of getting grabbed."
That was his fault, too.
"I'm taking her home," said Rod.
"She's got her car. You can drive her. I'll follow you both to the duplex." Swiss put his hand on Rod's chest. "She needs to sleep."
"She'll sleep, but I'm taking her back to my house."
"No, man." Swiss's hand pressed against him. "She's staying with me."
Rod wasn't budging. "You can't protect her. The club can't protect her. Just look what happened tonight. My brother got inside the bar without anyone paying attention and put his hands on her."
"What makes you think you can stop him alone?"
Forty-five years of experience. He looked Swiss in the eyes. "Because he wants me. He only came after Heather to fuck with her to draw out the sick game he's playing with me. If I'm there, you're going to have to trust me, Heather will not be who Tim focuses on. I can't give you that assurance if I stay away from Heather. I wouldn't trust him not to hurt her to fuck with me."
Swiss leaned closer. "You're asking me to hand over my daughter's life to you."
"I wish it was different, Swiss. I really do. But, taking her home with me is the only way I can guarantee she stays alive, brother. I'm the only one who knows how to survive my brother," whispered Rod.
The scar on Swiss's cheek deepened and his permanent squint made it appear as if he closed his eye. "You wanted to handle this on your own, but with the information you just handed me, I'm going to Prez. The club will start hunting season. We will catch your brother, and I'll kill him for touching my girl."
"Not if I get to him first," mumbled Rod.
Swiss nodded and stepped out of Rod's way. He walked straight to Heather, squatted in front of her, and cupped her face, rubbing his thumb along her cheek. She startled and smiled at the sight of him. Then, her happiness faded as reality set in, and he had her full attention. She wasn't happy with him.
She studied him. "What are you doing here?"
"I heard you've had a bit of trouble," he said, peering into her eyes.
Heather shrugged. "Nothing happened."
"Well, that's how you and I differ, sassy. Nobody touches what belongs to me." He tipped her chin. "Let's grab your stuff. I'm taking you home. Do you think you can ride the Harley?"
Her brows lowered. "Yes, but—"
"Good." He grabbed her hand on the uninjured arm and lifted her to her feet and turned to Gia. "Can you get her purse and coat?"
"I'll get her bag." Gia glanced at Heather. "I'll be right back."
"Wait." She rubbed her forehead. "My phone is on the bar. I'll need that, too."
"I'll get everything," said Gia.
"Rod?" Heather turned to him. "What's going on? Why did you come back?"
"I'll explain everything when I get you home." Rod gathered her to his side.
Until he'd walked into the bar, he had no idea what he was going to do besides make sure Heather was okay. Once he saw her, he understood that he not only never wanted her out of his sight, but he'd fucked up. He wasn't going to let that happen again.
Raelyn approached Rod and handed him a leather coat. "It's mine. Duke bought it for me for when I ride...rode his motorcycle. The jacket will protect her arm and keep her warm."
"Thanks, sweetheart," he said softly to Raelyn. "I'm sorry about bringing trouble to the bar. I'll take care of everything, so you and Dukie will feel safe here again."
Raelyn patted his cheek. "Keep yourself safe, too."
He had other people he needed to keep safe. Heather, the club, the town.
"Stay close to me." He guided Heather through the kitchen.
An entourage of Ronacks members followed him down the hallway. At the door, he turned and faced the others. From here on out, he'd stay in contact with them all, but he needed privacy for his brother to contact him. Tim was too smart to take another chance with others around.
"We'll ride alone." Rod helped Heather put on the leather coat. "Swiss, you and Battery can call at any time to check in. If anyone finds Tim, hold him, and call me."
"I don't like this. At least stake out a few brothers to watch your house." Swiss glanced at Heather. "Think with your head."
"I am. As your vice president, if you have a problem with my orders, talk to Battery." Rod threw his position in Swiss's face. Not because he wanted to push his weight within the ranks, but because he had to.
He put Heather on his left side, unlocked the door, and walked her to his motorcycle. Aware of his MC brothers inside the bar watching and the high level of danger outside having Heather with him, he got them both on the road and heading home without delay.
Behind the security gate, surrounded by every weapon he'd need against Tim, he had the one thing his brother wouldn't be able to resist.
Bait.
Chapter Twenty Eight
Rod put two Tylenol capsules in Heather's hand and gave her a glass of water. She popped the medicine in her mouth and drank. The ride to his house had made him hot a
nd cold, and he couldn't settle down.
He had Heather near him and yet, time was against him. She deserved the truth from the beginning of their relationship, but he was used to covering up his past. He had every lie, evasion tactic, and denial in his arsenal and he'd used it all over the years.
But he found himself hesitant to explain everything for fear of losing Heather. She put the idea of family on a high pedestal, and he was more likely to dig a grave for his brother.
"Go ahead and get under the covers." Rod covered her bare legs with the blanket and sat down on the edge of the mattress. There would be no sleep for him tonight.
"Rod?" she said.
He shifted and grabbed her hand, bringing her fingers up to his lips and kissing the back of her knuckles. "You need to sleep."
"Not until you tell me what is going on. You're not even undressed for bed." Her voice came out soft and tired. "I was convinced you'd left town, left the club, left me today. Then, you show back up and now I'm lying in your bed and the way everyone was acting over your brother grabbing my wrist, I know something isn't right. He only grabbed my wrist and startled me. It was my fault that I banged my elbow. But there are things I don't know that has everyone freaking out, and the unknown is scaring me. Have I done something?"
Rod shook his head. "No, sassy. None of this is your fault."
"Don't lie me," she whispered. "I know there are a lot of things I avoid. Confrontation is one of them, but this situation isn't...normal."
"We can talk in the morning."
She pushed up on her elbow, winced, and he caught her, helping her into a sitting position on the bed. "There's no way I can sleep. Not here. Not with you. Unless I know why you stood up to my dad at the bar and brought me here. What's going on?"
He let go of her. "To tell you everything in the middle of the night isn't a good idea."
"I've got the time," she said.
He exhaled loudly. Of course, she'd listen. She'd been there for him while he made an absolute fool of himself every night at the bar, contemplating whether to test his friendship, his brotherhood, with her dad by sleeping with her.
In the end, she'd been worth every sacrifice.