Nash: Great Wolves MC

by Jayne Blue

Fuck it all to hell.

  I went to the service door and followed him. It led to a darkened alley behind the bar. A blast of humidity hit my face and I squinted trying to adjust to the glaring light from a streetlamp at the end of the alley.

  I pressed my back against the brick wall and stayed to the shadows. Blood roared in my ears. She sang. Something old and bluesy and it made the hair stand up on the back of my neck and heat shoot straight through me. Where the hell was the guy? Hadn’t she heard him come out the door right after her? Hadn’t she heard me?

  Hinges creaked and she slammed the top of the dumpster hard as a gunshot. He made his move then; coming out from the other side of the dumpster he hovered over her. She didn’t jump. Didn’t flinch. She just looked up at him with those big brown eyes and put a hand up.

  “Wrong door, Amos,” she said, putting a flat hand on his chest and shoving him backward. “Bathrooms to the left of the back hallway. Did you forget again?”

  “Oh, I didn’t forget darlin’. Just didn’t think it was safe for you to come out here all by yourself. You never know what kinda danger might be hiding behind some dark corner.”

  He advanced and leaned down. The fucker actually tried to plant a kiss on her. But she was faster. She ducked beneath his arms and took two steps backward. If she was scared, she hid it well.

  “You need to get home, Amos. Lemme call you a cab.”

  “Night’s still young.”

  “Not for you it isn’t. You’re cut off. In fact, I don’t know how you managed to sneak in that last round. Kinney must be slipping.”

  He moved pretty fucking fast for the condition he was in. He grabbed her by the arm and had her up against the wall. She said something filthy and brought up her knee hard, catching him square in the sack. He took two staggering steps backward and when he lifted his chin I saw the evil in his eyes. I didn’t wait for him to act on it. I came down on him like a hurricane, grabbing him by the shirt collar and hurling him back so hard he pushed the dumpster back against the opposite wall when he hit it.

  I stood over him, fists curled, red rage clouding my vision. “I think the lady said you’re done tonight. Were you having some trouble hearing?”

  He held up his hands to shield his face. “No, man. Fuck. No. We’re cool.”

  “You know, guys like you say that a lot. But I don’t really think we are.” My eyes came back sharply into focus. I couldn’t trust it all the way, but instinct told me this douche was defused for now. I reached down and hauled him up by his shoulders. “Go toward the light, asshole,” I said, shoving him toward the street lamp at the end of the alley.

  He took two staggering steps forward, tripped, then managed to get to his feet. But he kept on going and that was all I cared about. I turned back to see if the girl was all right. She stood with her back against the wall, her arms crossed in front of her and her full lips curled into the sexiest smirk I’d ever seen. Not scared. Not impressed. Defiant.

  “You okay, miss?” I wiped my palm across my back pocket and extended my hand to shake hers.

  She cocked her head to the side, sizing me up, then she held out her hand and shook mine with a strong, respectable grip.

  “How do I know you’re not worse than he is?”

  A beat passed between us. I swear I heard myself blink. Then I couldn’t help it. My faced cracked into a smile and I laughed. “You don’t. But hopefully I get points for smelling better.”

  She let out the hint of a snort and raised a brow. “Slightly. Yes. Since you’re out here, you think you could help me with the rest of that too?” She pointed toward the dumpster. Three full bags of garbage rested beside it. I had a wisecrack about whether Guinevere made Lancelot haul trash but I swallowed it. Something told me she’d be a hell of a lot more impressed by my helping her with the trash than my idea of chivalry. I gave her a nod and heaved the bags into the bin. The third one felt heavy as a bag of anvils and made a great hollow clunk when I pitched it in.

  “Christ. You disposing of dead bodies back here?”

  “Only on Tuesdays,” she said.

  “Good to know.”

  I turned back toward her. She’d moved toward the service door but hadn’t turned her back on me. Smart girl.

  “Come on,” she said. “Let me buy you a drink for your trouble.”

  I put up a hand to decline. I damn near almost told her I was on duty. Old fucking habit. She was shrewd enough to notice the conflict in my eyes but I played it off. “No trouble. But I’ll take that drink. What’s good here?”

  She held the door open and motioned for me to go in ahead of her. Still smart. Something told me if I hadn’t followed “Amos” out here, this chick probably could have handled herself just fine. But damned if I was gonna take that chance.

  “Ah. I figured you were a newbie. You don’t look like the usual crowd.”

  Damn. I’d have to do a better job blending in, it seemed. I smiled. “Left my knit beanie at home.”

  This got a smartass laugh out of her that sent heat coursing through me. “Oh, I’m sure I could find you one.”

  “Right. Bet you pass ’em out like paper crowns at Burger King.”

  “Only if it’s your birthday,” she said, not missing a beat. We walked into the darkened bar together and she held a finger up to Kinney. He nodded, grabbed a frosted mug and started to fill it with whatever was on tap.

  The corner seat was still empty and I took it. She ducked under the bar again and slapped a cocktail napkin in front of me. She leaned forward, resting on her elbows, and it took everything in me not to look at that glimpse of bra again. In that instant, I knew I wanted more than that though. In the thirty minutes I’d been here, I hadn’t seen her crack a genuine smile. Suddenly, it became important to me to change that.

  “You know,” I said. “Instead of that drink, maybe you could help me out another way. I’m actually here to see about a job. Maybe you could put a good word in for me.”

  She arched a brow and straightened her back. “A job?”

  “Yeah. I’m supposed to see Devin Marsh. Is he here tonight? I heard through the grapevine he’s looking for a new bouncer.” I wagged my eyebrow at her and made a joke out of flexing a bicep for her. That kind of thing usually made girls blush. I realized I’d sure as hell like to make her blush.

  Once again, though, I’d misread the room where she was concerned. She kept her arms crossed and that one dark brow arched to the sky. “You think you’re qualified to do that?”

  My mouth dropped. “Well. Yeah.” I pointed back toward the service door. “Better than a resume, don’t you think?”

  She chewed her bottom lip but didn’t answer. Then she leaned forward and wrapped her fingers around my right bicep. She cocked her head to the side and nodded. “Impressive. I suppose these are for more than just show, huh?”

  “Well, I don’t like to brag.”

  “Of course not, Tough Guy.”

  “The name’s Randall. Jason Randall.” The fake last name was my second big lie of the evening. “Most people call me Jase. What do you say? You think you could see your way clear to helping me out with the boss man? Can you go tell Mr. Marsh I’m here?”

  I can’t say I quite got my wish. Rather than a genuine smile, I got sort of a shit-eating grin. Even that got my blood pumping a little faster. She spread her hands and gripped the edge of the bar. Leaning even further forward, she crinkled that cute little nose and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. “See, I think the boss already knows.”

  “Come again?”

  She straightened and held out her hand to shake mine again. “I’m Devin Marsh.”

  Shit. How the fuck did that piece of intel not make it my way? Not one fucking thing had gone the way it was supposed to tonight. The girl had me speechless. All I could do was take her hand in mine again. Just that slight contact had my nerve endings jumping.

  “I’ve got good news and bad news.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “I’m hiring.
You heard that part right.”

  “Great!”

  “Not so fast. I don’t need another bouncer. What I need is a dishwasher. You up for it, Tough Guy?”

  I kept her hand in mine and locked eyes with her. Her cheeks colored just a little. “I’ll take what I can get.” I still didn’t get a smile, but the tiny pulse in the palm of her hand jumped. Then she slid her hand away.

  “You might want to be careful what you wish for, Jase Randall. Things can get pretty intense around here. Not everyone can cut it.”

  “I’ll let you know if I can’t handle it.”

  “You’ve got that backward. I’ll let you know. And I haven’t offered you a job yet. Just an interview. But I should warn you. I have pretty tough standards.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  She turned and gave me a smile filled with light and sultry promise. So far, the evening was looking up.

  Vice - Chapter Two

  Devin

  * * *

  He didn’t tell me to fuck off, so that right there was promising. Only one slow blink from those deep set brown eyes under lashes so thick it looked like he wore eyeliner. I didn’t think he’d say yes. Hell, it would have made things easier if he hadn’t. A guy like him might think dishwashing was beneath him. I’m not going to lie, that was part of my angle. Let’s see how much of Jase Randall was ego, and how much was work ethic. Thing was, I really was short a dishwasher and he looked like he could handle the job.

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s talk in my office.” I turned back toward Kinney. He was chatting it up with Georgia, one of my best waitresses. He’d been trying to get in her pants for weeks. Normally I’d break it up, but Georgia had his number and could handle herself. She cocked her head to the side and brushed back a strand of her wiry red hair. Then she held the beverage gun in her hand and sprayed the front of his pants with water. It got a genuine laugh out of him and Kinney went back to serving drinks. I’d talk to Georgia later, but it looked like she had things under control.

  “You got this handled?” I shouted to Kinney. He knew I wasn’t just talking about the bar. He chewed the inside of his cheek and gave me a slow nod. Yeah. We understood each other. He could find dates on his own time. Patrons and waitresses were off limits.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said and ducked under the partition in the bar. Jason “Jase” Randall slid off the bar stool and rose to his full height. God. He really was massive. I can’t lie, having muscle like him working one of the doors might be good for business in more ways than one. He’d already proven he could handle himself with the likes of Amos. Plus, the girls and half the guys would love him. Tall. Broad. Buff. He wore a black tee shirt and jeans that stretched in all the right places. Those eyelashes, that dimple in his chin. Yeah. The patrons would love him. But first things first. I needed to know if he understood hard work.

  Jase followed me into my office but hung back for a moment. His eyes darted to every corner of my 10 X 10 home away from home looking for some hidden danger. I wondered if he might be ex-military. He kind of held himself like it. It was subtle, but pure alpha male. Satisfied no boogie man was about to pop out at him, Jase took a seat in front of my desk and rested one foot on the opposite knee.

  I resisted the urge to apologize for the mess. Oh, it was one. I know it. Stacks of paper piled in every corner. Boxes to the ceiling. But it was my mess and I knew where everything was when I needed it. The place still had purple paneling put there two owners ago when it was a tattoo parlor. Before that, a massage parlor, and a gym. But now, this place was all mine. Well, almost. As soon as I paid off the note to Uncle Cy, no one could ever take it away from me.

  I took my time stepping around the desk then slowly sank into my leather chair, the one luxury office expense I made when I opened the place. You should never skimp on lumbar support. Jase was patient as I rifled through the papers on my desk until I found what I needed—an application form and a W-9. I slid them across the desk to him and tossed him a pen. He caught it neatly in one hand and clicked the spring. My eyes went to his hands. Those too were broad and solid with tapered nails, no dirt under them. Strong hands. The kind that could span your waist and hold you close.

  I blinked hard and took a deep breath. Those weren’t the kind of thoughts I ever had time to indulge in. And I sure as hell couldn’t start eyeing him up or I’d be no better than Kinney. The pounding bass shook the walls as The HolyRocks launched into their last set. Shit. I needed to make this quick. Kinney’d be swamped at the bar in another ten minutes.

  “Don’t suppose you stuffed a resume in your pocket.” I blushed the second I said it. For once, I wasn’t trying to be a smartass. I really wasn’t going for any kind of double entendre. Jase’s wide smile and twinkling eyes made heat zing straight through me. I kept my face even though; I needed a dishwasher, not another complication.

  “Sorry,” he said, filling in the blanks on the forms I gave him. “New in town. I’ve worked construction most of my life. But my dad owned a bar for a while years ago. I know my way around a kitchen.”

  “Where’re you from?”

  Jase kept writing and didn’t look up. “Originally, little town near Toledo. But I’ve been all over. Wherever the work takes me.”

  “You a felon, Jase Randall?”

  He lifted a brow and froze for a second, but then he kept on writing. “No, ma’am.”

  “Serial killer?”

  “Nope.”

  “What are you?”

  He smiled and stopped writing. “Well, if I play my cards right, maybe I’m a dishwasher.”

  “Look, I’m not going to lie. I’m short-staffed right now. Hell, I’m always short-staffed. I need someone who’s low maintenance, got a strong back, and good work ethic. And I’m not looking for another drifter.”

  He reached into his back pocket and flipped his driver’s license across the desk. “Social Security number’s on the form. Make a copy of that. Check me out. You won’t find anything scary except my credit score. Let’s just say I’ve had shitty taste in women.”

  I picked up his driver’s license and it took everything in me not to smile. His smoldering face stared back at me. God, this guy could even make the DMV look like an underwear model photo shoot. I’d be crazy not to get him behind the bar or out on the floor. But first things first. I didn’t suffer fools. Even just a few days in the kitchen would tell me everything I needed to know about this guy.

  I was about to tell him just that when the door cracked open and Kinney stuck his head in. “Sorry, Dev, but we’re gonna need you back out here.”

  I put up a hand. “I know. I know. The band’s just launched into their shitty Zeppelin cover. Tick tock.”

  “Right.”

  “Did Bella ever show up?” I gave Kinney a pointed stare. Bella was my second best waitress after Georgia. She was supposed to clock in over an hour ago. Kinney’d made some lame excuse for her but I knew it was bullshit. His eyes shifted to the left so I knew the next thing out of his mouth was going to be a lie.

  “She’s on her way. Pile-up on the Lodge.”

  “Everyone else managed to get here on time, Anthony.” He hated when I used his first name.

  “I know, I know.”

  “If you see Bella, you tell her from me she’s on my last nerve. Three days ago she’s asking me for help with her rent. Then she blows off the busiest night of the week. Georgia’s probably made two hundred just in tips. This isn’t Social Services.”

  Kinney nodded his head and shot a glance toward Jase. He had the decency to keep his head down and stay out of it. He might fit in just fine after all. I wasn’t trying to be a hardass, but I couldn’t let Kinney or any of the others think I was their friend. They’d rob me blind if I did. Not with their hands in the till, but by taking advantage. Though I always had to watch out for hands in the till. Uncle Cy taught me that.

  “Well, okay. I’ll tell Georgia to hang tight, you’ll be out when you’re out.” />
  I nodded and turned back to Jase as Kinney shut the door.

  “You run a tight ship,” he said. I couldn’t tell if it was a statement or a question.

  “I run a business. Not a frat house.”

  “Well, I can respect that. I’m not interested in any drama either. I want good, clean, honest work.”

  “Music to my ears. How soon can you start?”

  Jase smiled. “Well, from the sound of that baseline, I’d say the levee’s about to break any second. You need me now?”

  “God, I so hate Zeppelin.”

  Jase nodded and leaned back in his chair having finished the application. He made a move to hand it to me but brushed against a picture frame I had at the edge of the desk. It slid off the side. Jase caught it, quick as a cat, before it hit the floor.

  “Niagara Falls?” he asked as he turned the photo over and looked at it.

  I gave him a slow nod and a weak smile as I reached for the picture.

  “Your sister? She looks just like you.”

  I kept that smile plastered on my face as I lay the frame face down on the desk. It was taken ten years ago when I was fifteen and my sister Mandy was twenty-one. She’d saved up waitressing tips to buy train tickets to the Falls and surprised me for my birthday. It was the only vacation we’d ever taken together and the year after our dad died. Mandy was good back then. She’d been clean for almost a year. We made plans to open a bar like this on that very trip while getting soaked on the Maid of the Mist. A few months after that, she hooked up with another loser boyfriend and disappeared for a while. A pattern she repeated a half dozen more times before I left for college and up until the last one. Just a few more weeks until the 4th of July and it would be a full year since I’d seen her.

  “Yeah, my sister.”

  “Something wrong,” Jase said. “You just kind of went there for a second.”

  “What? Oh. No. Just running through everything I need to finish up tonight. Sorry to cut this short.”

  “No problem. So, are you looking at your new dishwasher?”