by Leah Holt
Why is a woman like that working here?
Did she come here for a shot at stardom? Modeling maybe?
There had to be a reason she was working in this shit hole. New York was a tough city to live in. A lot of people moved here hoping to become famous. Whether it was on Broadway, or with a big magazine.
For most, that moment never came.
Could this be her too?
Was she here with big city eyes, only to find dead ends, never catching her big break? Were doors slammed closed on her dreams, leaving her to scrounge for tips, and an hourly wage that was practically a crime?
Stretching her arm out, the glass came down much lighter this time. Reaching for it instantly, I took the chance to brush my finger across her wrist. Her face fell towards the floor, eyes peering up as she yanked her arm back. “Thanks, Doll.”
“Doll? Why did you ask me my name if you're just going to call me something else?” Her brow arched up, palm fixed on the seam of her jeans.
“I like the sound it makes when it rolls off my tongue. But, it's not the only thing my tongue is good at rolling.” My head tilted to the side, eyes riding over her curves.
A tremor ran through her body, the ripple was subtle, but I caught it and she knew it. Her hand drew up to the base of her head, fingers diving into the roots, shifting her gaze between my face and the ceiling.
Straightening her neck, her spine followed. “Are you always this full of shit? Pervert.” Her lips held firm, pursing tightly.
The light crinkles in the corners of her mouth were so fucking cute, there was a deep seeded desire to thumb her lower lip, and cup her jaw. I had to force my fingertips to stay static, keeping them busy by gripping around my drink with every bit of effort I had.
No matter how hard she tried to pretend I hadn't just dampened her panties, her tits lifting rapidly with air, thighs squeezing together so tightly they could crush a fucking rock; well, it all told me a different story.
“Maybe, would it matter either way?”
Veering her stare, Cadence shook her head. “I haven't seen you in here before, are you new to town?”
“No, not exactly. I'm new to this bar, but I won't be after tonight.” Spinning the glass, I watched the liquid swirl like a small funnel. “After tonight, you'll be seeing a whole lot more of me.”
“Is that so?”
“Yup, so get used to this pretty face. I'm already in need of more of yours.”
“I hate to break it to you, but I'm off limits.”
“No one is ever off limits.” Running my hand over the hollow of my throat, I eyed her curiously. “Are you married?”
“No,” she said, holding up her hand and twisting it to show there was no ring.
“Then you're not off limits, you're fair game...” Pushing my drink to the side, I waved her closer with a single finger. “You're going to be mine.”
A sweet laugh rolled off her tongue, head tilting a hair into her shoulders. “Does this shit usually work for you to get a girl? Because I don't want to knock you off your high horse, but I don't do customers.”
“Your life's about to change, Doll, and I'm the one who's going to change it.”
“You're a confident man, huh? How can you be so sure?” Folding her arms over her chest, her tits pushed up, breaking the seam of her shirt.
Letting my eyes lick her body, I drifted from her face to her chest, and back to her eyes. “Because when I want something, I'll go through anything to get it.”
Her skin broke in goosebumps, a quick breath of air shot into her lungs with a tender gasp. “I... I—” Suddenly, from the other side of the bar, a loud bang echoed through the room. Cadence whipped her head over her shoulder, her thick mane following, and cascading onto her chest.
The sound was so intense that the glasses shook against the track, rattling into each other. People halted their conversations to take notice of the sudden pop.
“Hey! How about some service over here!?” The voice bellowed through the musty air.
I watched her demeanor change immediately. Her back became rigid, every muscle tensed in her face. Stepping towards him, she spoke with a firm tone. “Excuse me? How about you ask that again, only this time ask nicely.” An open palm rested against her hip, head cocking to the side.
Anger rained over the man's face. “I don't have to do shit. Get me my drink and we won't have any problems.” He spoke through gritted teeth, lips thin and pulled back tight.
“You can get the hell out if you're going to talk to me that way,” she huffed, pointing towards the door.
She's feisty, I like that.
A woman who doesn't take shit, now that's a fucking turn on.
I watched the man cautiously, taking in his presence. He was a big guy, long hair pulled back tight against his head in a pony tail. His muscles bulged through the tight v-neck shirt, veins pulsing down his neck as he spoke. “Didn't I just tell you to get me my fucking drink? If you know what's good for you, you'll turn your little ass around, and do your job.” His finger raised close to her face, bouncing with intimidation.
Who the fuck is this guy?
My blood began to boil the more he disrespected her. I wasn't going to just sit by and let this asshole talk to her like that.
I didn't come here looking for a fight, but that didn't mean I wouldn't welcome one with open arms.
As much as I wanted to have my way with her, a woman still deserved respect. I didn't care who it was, no man would ever talk to a girl like that while I was around.
I wouldn't stand for it.
“Look, Nico, I don't know who you think you are, but you can't just go around here barking orders. I'm not your fucking dog, maybe you should remember who you work for.” Cadence's words held weight. If they could have held form, they would have been razors to slice him apart.
It was obvious, and she didn't hide it; Cadence hated that guy. It didn't take a psycho-therapist to figure that one out.
The man's lip curled to one side, his body leaning in close, hovering over the bar. His image reflected back over the glossy lacquer of the wood, and he looked too comfortable displaying the dominance he thought he had. “I'm going to tell you one more time. I want my drink and I want it now. You have one fucking job to do, Cadence. Don't make this more difficult for yourself.” His mangled fingers gripped the edge fiercely, knuckles whitening as the blood drained from inside.
Is he trying to intimidate her?
No, this ends now. She's had enough.
And so have I.
Picking up my glass, the alcohol flooded my throat. With a quick grimace it was down, and I was standing. A deep inhale of stale air filled my lungs, legs moving forward without a second thought.
“Who the—”
Cutting off Cadence's words, I stepped in, holding an arm up. “Is this guy bothering you?” I asked, my chest puffed out, arms rigid and flexing as the adrenaline began to surge.
The man turned to his buddies behind him as he spoke. “Really? Mind your own business, Asshole, this doesn't involve you.” His eyes slowly reconnected to mine, a deep laugh rolling outwards into my face.
A bubbling anger inflamed my gut as I glared into the emotionless eyes of the predator before me. Instinctively, I clenched my fingers by my sides, nails burying so deeply into my palms, I was sure blood would soon trickle off the knuckles.
“Quinn, don't, you don't need to do this. Let me just handle it. You don't know this guy.” Her voice was sincere, trying to coax me out of my stance. Bringing her hand up to rest it on my shoulder, she squeezed.
The small touch lit me on the insides, cementing my need to have her, to keep her safe. And I liked that feeling there, it gave me a sense of meaning, of knowing that I was doing the right thing.
I wasn't someone who backed down, and this motherfucker had just woken up a piece of my past I vowed to keep hidden.
“Yes, I do have to do this,” I said, never breaking eye contact with him. “You need to leave.”
Each word fell strong against my tongue, layered in angered emotion.
Cadence had called him Nico. She knew the man that had so wrongly talked down to her, who disrespected her with such ease. And that made me hate him even more.
Regardless, Nico made the mistake of doing that in front of me.
The two guys with him covered their mouths and laughed feverishly. As if that was supposed to scare me off... Fuck that.
One of the men in a black leather jacket hit Nico in the shoulder while barking, “Take him out, Nico.” I noticed his nose was slightly askew on his face, his smile a gaping hole of broken teeth as he nudged his friend forward.
His broken grin held a familiar comfort, it was a face I had seen countless times before. Busted, damaged, and happy to have that mask; a fighter for sure.
Cadence tried to put out the fire, attempting to step between us. “No! Knock it off! That's enough, just go home you guys.” She threw her hand to the side pointing at the door, eyes narrow as she glared.
“What, Cadence? You don't want me to break your little friend's face?” A crooked smile spread over Nico's cheeks, the hollows of his deep sinister stare expanding wider.
The rage inside me had filled to the brim, between the alcohol and my need to protect her—protect Cadence—from this filthy bastard, there was no stopping myself now.
There was a challenge being thrown my way, one that I was going to grab by the balls, and make him regret he had even crossed my path to begin with.
Stepping forward, I brought myself inches from his face. The smell of cheap liquor and sweat filled my lungs. “This is the last time I'm going to tell you to leave. Your last warning, Fucker.” The arms of my shirt tightened, grasping around my swelling muscles.
Nico threw his hands against my chest, but my stance stood strong. I was a wall between her and him, and he wasn't getting through me.
His arm came up, swinging towards my face. On reflex I gripped his wrist, twisting his arm behind him. With an open palm, I slammed his face onto the bar. A surprised grunt expelled from his lips. The once glossy surface now smeared with saliva and blood.
Cadence stood silent. There was no opposing my dominance, no further demand for this to stop.
If I didn't know better, she wanted this.
I half expected his friends to step in, throw a punch from behind, grab my arms and pull me back. Neither happened. The room fell silent, crowd dispersing around us.
Nico threw his elbow back, hitting me in the ribs. Releasing his arm, I stepped back, catching my breath from the jab.
Fury filled my insides, adrenaline coursed through my veins.
I wanted to look at Cadence, shoot her a glance that this would end here tonight. He wasn't going to bother her anymore after I was through with him.
Tomorrow he won't say shit to her. That I was sure of.
Swiftly, Nico turned, arms up ready to fight. He wasn't new to this, I could see he had a few good fights under his belt.
His stance said it all. Arms locked against his face, feet moving around me in circles, waiting for his next chance to strike.
Unfortunately –for him— he didn't know me from a hole in the wall.
His lip drew up, showing his teeth like an animal. A canine, glaring their bite at its prey. His massive hands lunged at my throat, my fist flying up and jabbing between his arms, connecting with his jaw. A crunch echoed through the room.
Without pause, my hands gripped the back of his neck, forcefully yanking his head down onto my knee. The crackle of his skull was reminiscent of glass shattering against pavement. Nico's body hit the floor, falling limp, lifeless.
Gasps from around the room filled my ears, followed by cheers, then sirens.
I didn't even have to time to react. Within seconds I was thrown to the floor, a knee in my back, and cuffs on my wrists.
Rapidly, I searched the room looking for Cadence. She was off to the side, a smile resting proudly on her face as she peered down at Nico.
His friends pulled him to his feet; dazed, he rested against the wall. Blood was inching its way down his chin from the split lip already swelling in size.
And I smirked, proud of the way it all turned out. He was going to have one hell of a headache tomorrow, and a pretty severe swollen lip.
Her rich blue eyes shifted to mine as the police lifted me to my feet. The room roared to life with excitement, clapping, and strangers patting my back as the cops dragged me out.
The lush, red lips that had graced me with half a smile before, now shined from ear to ear.
I had made my mark with her. Stamped myself in her memory.
And hopefully, cracked the shell she was encased in.
She would never forget me now.
Chapter Two
Cadence
I stood dazed, staring down at the bits of Nico that remained on the counter. A piece of me didn't want to wipe them away. I wanted to case it off, have it there to remind me of the redemption that flowed through my body.
He had always been such an asshole, placing himself on a pedestal, walking around here like he owned the damn place.
Finally, he got what he had coming. Fucking jerk deserved it.
The truth was, my father owned this bar, not Nico. He was just a pawn in my dad's game of chess, the man who always came out on top; having him around kept my dad's pockets full.
Not tonight, though. Tonight he was kicked off that mountain.
The towel in my hand, once a bright yellow, now mirrored the color of rust as the smears were washed away.
A smile crept up the side of my face, perched beneath satisfied eyes.
Why did Quinn do that?
He doesn't know me. He knows nothing about this place, or who Nico is.
Warmth filled my body, tingles roaring to life as I relived that moment. My eyes closed tight, remembering Quinn, seeing his broad shoulders widen as they created a shield. The engorged muscles of his back flexed to life, and came alive with fire.
My god, that was fucking hot.
I wanted to glide my hands down his back, dip my fingertips into the crevasses of each and every protrusion.
His body looked hard, every piece of him made my heart skip. The instant my eyes rested on the sweet bronze color of his, my stomach knotted, lungs shivering with every inhale of air.
The indelible art running over his flesh made my pussy wet. A blistering passion clutched my ribs and held me there so I couldn't think straight.
What the hell has he done to me?
I had to admit, my initial thought was to turn and run away, despite the attraction raging through my blood. It was in my nature to fall for a man like that— dark, mysterious...
And fucking sexy as hell.
I already knew the kind of guy he was, his 'type' fell into a class of their own. I'd been there before, used and tossed away; shoved to the side when things became dull.
I wasn't going to feel that pain again.
I won't let myself get roped in.
But Quinn seemed different. What he did for me contrasted everything I had seen in my past. It was hard to grasp the idea. Never in my life had someone placed themselves in harms way to help me.
Not even the ones who I held the closest, the ones I should have been able to look up to.
And why would they?
Everyone around knew who my father was... No one would dare.
I couldn't stop the quiver that reached my thighs when Quinn took that stand for me, he didn't back down. Shit, he could have been killed, never mind just hurt. There was no regard for his own safety.
He protected me.
Although, after the way he moved with ease and pummeled Nico into unconsciousness, fighting seemed to sit well with him.
“Cadence!” The deep bellow rang from the front door as it flew open. A gust of air pressed forward, napkins flying weightlessly off the tables as the wind blew in.
My eyes lifted rapidly, taking in the large, purple-faced man who stormed in.
It was my father, Louis Powell, sole owner of Whiskey Sour; among other endeavors he had his greedy hands in.
A flashback of Willy Wonka and the girl who blew up into the giant blueberry crept into my mind. I half expected him to pop; his face swelled with anger, ready to explode. Holding in my giggle, I kept wiping the counter.
My father's eyes bulged out of the sockets, his chest lifting heavily under heated breaths. If it was cold in here, steam would have spilled from his nostrils like dry ice crawling over a smooth surface.
Heavy feet stomped across the old wood floor, the walls rattling around me with the weight of his body.
Fuck. This is not what I need right now.
“Cadence, what the FUCK happened here!?” Using the word 'angry' to describe his tone didn't give it enough justice.
He was fucking pissed. He was beyond fucking pissed, there was red in his eyes, the veins reaching out and around his black pupils.
Trying to sound calm, I brushed off the incident as if it was nothing. “Dad, it was just a stupid fight. No big deal, nothing was broken.” The wide eyes I had when he entered swiftly returned to the newly shined counter.
I couldn't look directly at him; I knew exactly why he was so upset. This hadn't been just a stupid bar brawl with two drunken idiots.
This was different, it involved one of his own. His fighters weren't allowed to use their fists outside the ring.
“No Big deal! No big deal, Cadence! How about Nico, huh? His face was broken. What am I going to do now? He's my top guy, I need him, and you know that!” His hands vigorously rubbed back and forth against his temples, wrinkles across his forehead created a stairway back to the thin hairline resting in the middle of his skull.
Under his breath, he whispered to himself, as he paced anxiously back and forth. “You couldn't just do your job, you had to go start shit with him, had to.” The thick muscle of his neck rotated side to side with his head, veins pulsing angrily all around his throat.
I couldn't speak, I didn't want to try and calm him down, or sooth his worry about that asshole.
I wanted to yell, scream, tear the rest of the hair off his head so he would maybe listen to me for once in his life. My thoughts crested the edge of my lips, but stayed dormant in my mind. The words were there... “I don't care that he's your head fucking crony! I could give two shits about that dirt bag!” Instead, the scream sat like billboard letters, burning against my pupils.