by Piper Stone
“One, but they’re just paying their bill.”
“Tell you what. I’ll grab their tab for you. Start cleaning up back here. I’m going to give last call. If you hear any sign of trouble, pick up the phone and call the police.”
Tina’s smile was tight but the nod of her head held more confidence. “I can do that. Just be careful. Heard a lot of crap about them lately. They’re really wreaking havoc down near the beach.”
“I’ve heard all I need to know.” I held my breath and hesitated, but these boys were going to be dealt with once and for all. Swinging around the corner, I lifted a single eyebrow and walked right toward them. “Last call, fellas. What do you want?” The three amigos and two new brutes were crowded around the end of the bar, almost blocking off the exit. Everyone had cleared the bar itself and there were three tables, none of which had the kind of people who could take on a gang. Even the sexy biker had left. The girls and I were on our own.
“Now, is that any way to talk to us, sugar?” Mark asked as he slithered next to the bar, his expression nothing but lewd. The others laughed, including the two I hadn’t seen before. Unfortunately, they appeared like the amigos’ muscle, standing a half foot taller, older, and more like enforcers.
Fear crept along my spine as I looked from one to the other.
Ignoring the comment, I slapped my hand on the bar top and leaned over. “You have one minute to place an order or leave. Up to you entirely.” Another table of customers left, skirting around the group as if terrified of a brawl.
“Seems the bitch needs to learn a lesson.” The tone was gruff, the words said with a snicker. The new guy folded his massive inked arms, his eyes pinned directly on me. I’d call him Dickhead Number One. Dickhead Number Two was equally as ferocious, his position as lookout confirming this had been a planned retaliation.
“And here I told my buddies Chico and Pablo that you were a nice girl,” Mark chortled, as if I gave a shit about their names. The assholes laughed, Chuck and Ramrod strutting into the middle of the room. “I bet you taste real nice. Haven’t had pussy in a couple days.”
I sensed Daphne moving behind me, could feel her scattered breath on my neck. I held out my arm protectively. “Make certain everyone knows it’s last call. Then you can start closing up.”
“I’m not leaving you with those assholes,” Daphne said under her breath.
“I can handle them. Go.” I was glad when Daphne refused my order. She remained plastered just behind me.
“Listen to the bitch. She can handle us. I just bet you can, baby.” Mark burst into laughter, twisting his head until his gaze fell onto my crotch. “Think me and my friends are going to find out.” He had much more bravado around his buddies. Asshole. He was trying to prove a point. Maybe I’d have to as well.
Walking even closer toward Mark, I grinned, trying casually to ease the cell phone from my back pocket. “Thirty seconds. Time is ticking.”
“Look at the bumper kit on that babe,” Dickhead Number One chortled, pointing to Daphne’s ass.
“Crystal!” Daphne whispered, the single word choked.
Rage rolled from deep within, almost pushing aside the increasing terror. Almost.
“You ain’t gonna deny my friends a fuckin’ drink, bitch. Ain’t gonna happen.” Dickhead Number Two nodded toward the bank of liquor bottles. “And it’s gonna be on the house.”
The tension had increased in the room, the adrenaline rushing through my body creating a nasty headache.
Damn it if the last two groups didn’t walk out the door, Dickhead Number Two grinning and nodding as they walked out.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
“That’s it. Time is up. Get the hell out.” I pointed toward the door, my legs shaking. For all the bravado I’d used, I knew I’d played my last card. I heard the rattle in my voice and knew they did as well. My hand was sweaty as I tried to keep the phone out of their sight, fumbling to slide my finger across the screen. Time to call in reinforcements of our own.
“I think we’re going to play. Lock the door, bubba. Tonight, we’re gonna have some real fun and show these ladies who’s boss,” Mark sneered as he jumped over the bar.
The sound of breaking bottles forced a yelp from both Daphne and me. As Mark advanced, I prayed to God that Tina had already called the police. The asshole reacted, smacking the phone out of my hand, laughing as he used the heel of his boot to smash it into pieces.
Jesus. Christ. Please help us get out of here. Somehow, I didn’t think my pleading to some unknown force was going to help. These bastards were out for blood. Cool head. Think. Tina had to have heard this. Please God, let her have heard the commotion.
“Who ya think you’re calling? The po-lice?” Mark swaggered closer, taking several deep whiffs. “Chico, grab the slut from the back.”
Dickhead One reacted, taking long strides to the opposite end of the bar.
“Don’t you touch her!” I screamed.
Whoosh! Wham!
The sound was thunderous as Dickhead One was yanked into the air and tossed, his body careening into one of the tables. The noise was deafening, the asshole moaning when he finally slid down the wall, slumping over.
“Fuck!” Daphne exclaimed, backing away as she shifted into hysterics.
What in the hell was going on? I searched the shadows, trying to find the source, my heart racing. All I could think about was getting the girls out of harm’s way. I pushed at Daphne with almost no response.
Confused, the gang members reacted instantly, drawing various switchblades.
“The mo-fo thinks he can come into our place, bustin’ on our turf,” Ramrod yelled.
“Yeah, we rafa! We rule,” Mark snarled as he swung around, glaring into the dim lighting. “Who the fuck did that? What the fuck?”
I took several deep breaths, eying the darkness, inching in front of Daphne. Who the hell would have the balls to take on the Desperados? The biker slipped out of the shadows, every move smooth and practiced, as if completely prepared to take on the gang. More powerful in appearance than I remembered, his chiseled face held a brutal look, his glare ice cold. Soulless. He stood to his full height, towering over the entire gang. Eyeing them one by one, I had no doubt he was sizing up his opponents.
“The lady said get out.” The biker’s words reverberated in the room, the deep bass booming but the words were clear and strong. When the gang hesitated, he walked closer to the bar, his boots thudding on the cheap linoleum floor.
Mark fisted my hair, yanking me closer, dragging his tongue down the side of my face. “The lady’s with me, white boy.”
Reacting, I snapped my elbow into Mark’s gut and pushed hard, knocking the wind out of him. I pushed Daphne toward the kitchen door, barely avoiding Mark’s furious grasp as he scrambled to get to me.
“You bitch!” Mark screeched, his swagger crumbling.
“You don’t talk to women like that. Fucker.” The biker took two more steps.
“Who the fuck do you think you are, ass wipe?” Dickhead Number Two rushed the biker, swinging his arm.
But the man was prepared, taking a fighter’s stance.
The punch was solid, hitting the jerkoff just under his chin, pitching him backwards. The biker yanked Mark over the bar, tossing the man like he was a ragdoll. The others rushed the blond, but he issued one punch after the other, pummeling the gang members as they approached.
“Grab Tina and get the hell out of here. Now!” I shoved Daphne through the swinging kitchen door and hovering in the shadows as the fight continued, holding my breath. Within seconds all was quiet and only one man remaining standing.
The biker.
He was savage.
He was sexy.
He was dangerous.
And he was my hero.
Chapter Six
Blade
Beautiful. Ballsy. Brash.
The woman I’d spanked.
The woman I’d fucked.
The very woman I hunger
ed for.
Electricity crackled through the dingy bar, driving me into a heightened state of lust. Pure unadulterated lust. The desire was unexpected given the fact I’d just whipped five lowlifes’ asses before tossing them out. And they’d been pissed, mostly because I came out of nowhere, crushing down on what they’d marked as their turf. Every muscle in my body remained tense from the beat-down session, as well as the woman glaring in my direction.
I’d heard her name mentioned. Crystal. Suited her given her luminescent sapphire blue eyes. A stunning gem creation. She’d stood quietly during the brawl, her eyes never leaving me, watching every detail of the fight as if she’d seen more than her share. I’d detected fear in her voice, but also the tone of a fighter. She’d been through some shit in her life. That much I could tell. The fact she’d refused to back down when she undoubtedly knew what the assholes were capable of gave me an odd sense of pride. She’d spit into the face of monsters. My guess was that she had no idea just how dangerous the gang members truly were.
The gangs in Miami were a constant threat, only some kowtowing to the Sanchez authority. In my experience, street gangs were more ruthless, refusing to share in the tenable honor code as mandated by the family. Diego still ruled the streets, even though the Blood Killers and BTK, the local tribes as Diego called them had a solid hold. They had families of their own, methods of domination that were easily recognizable, even to the authorities. I assumed very little gang life changed throughout the United States. The EME or Mexican Mafia were more organized, an intelligent leader running the show, and the only group that had challenged Sanchez to date. The others were like rabid dogs, fighting their turf wars like Neanderthals.
I snorted at the thought. My world had been more sophisticated, at least as long as Diego practiced what he required. Still, gangs were the dregs of our profession, the kind of scum that valued recruiting kids, grooming them into becoming rapists and killers.
That wasn’t the Sanchez way and certainly not mine.
No matter my less than stellar past, I couldn’t allow some freaking two-bit gang to endanger the women in the bar. I’d been in this town for less than twenty-four hours and already I didn’t appreciate the vibe. I certainly didn’t plan on being here long, only the time it took for some local mechanic to repair my baby. I’d spent a better part of the day diagnosing, hoping my skill would be enough. Not even close.
The dude at the hotel had been more than forthcoming, providing a name of a mechanic he trusted with his life. Yeah, we’d see about that. This had been his second recommendation, the walk allowing me to clear my head.
Now, this shit.
Blood covered my hands, and remnants splattered across my shirt. Dragging the last asshole by his shirt, I tossed him out of the place, standing just outside the entrance until the foot soldiers piled into two separate cars, roaring out of the parking lot after issuing expletives, the majority in broken Spanish.
But I’d heard the threats and knew exactly what they meant. They would come back to finish the job. No matter Crystal’s ridiculous bout of courage, she and her entire staff were in actual danger.
They’d have to get through me first.
I waited until I could no longer see their headlights before cruising back into the bar, locking the door behind me. While Crystal threw me a glance, she continued picking up chairs and righting tables, all products of my retaliation. I moved silently, adding my help and while she didn’t deny my assistance, she certainly didn’t try to make any small talk. That surprised me more than the fact she’d taken the gang head on.
Unable to take my eyes off her as she cleaned, even the small nuances as she slipped a long strand of hair behind her ear caught my attention. She was beautiful, although not in a ostentatious manner. There was no pretense about her, no haughty attitude. She simply worked, getting down on her hands and knees to shove beer bottles and broken glass into trash bags.
Dressed in blue jeans that had seen months of wear, a body-hugging tee shirt with the name of the bar, and boots that were scuffed on all sides, she exuded the kind of sensuality that pushed my cock to full attention. The way her copper-colored hair floated around her shoulders drew me in, longing to run my fingers through the long strands. Even the slight stench of warm beer and whatever fried food had come out of the kitchen couldn’t hide the delicious scent she was wearing: the fragrance something exotic, the musk accentuating her bold personality.
I hadn’t paid enough attention to her before, but now I was enamored, like some damn kid with a crush.
I was turned on as hell and she was ignoring my presence, as if my assistance hadn’t mattered. Taking her roughly as I had before, the taste would never be enough.
The bag filled, I moved toward the bar, trying to find the right words to begin a conversation. As she finally stood and stretched, I said nothing, having no idea what the hell to say to her. When she allowed me to grab the full trash bag from her hand, our fingers touched, creating a wave of heat rushing between us. Dear freaking God, the connection was stronger than anything I’d ever experienced. I took a deep breath, allowing the moment to linger.
Crystal stood defiantly, her hair disheveled and her makeup streaked from sweating through the night. Very slowly she recoiled her hand, a light flush cresting over her jawline. “Thank you for your help.”
I nodded once before moving toward the back, dumping the bags and checking the lot. I doubted the assholes would return tonight, but I’d been known to be wrong before. My guess was that they had a sentry waiting to follow her home, taking her there. Exhaling, I walked back inside, bolting the back door. She’d been smart to force the other two girls to leave, but Crystal seemed to be the woman they’d hunt until they found her. Anger furrowed inside of me and I clenched both fists, hissing under my breath. She’d trailed behind me, standing off to the side.
“Now, you’re going to tell me your name and what you want with my bar.” Crystal stood with a butcher knife in her hand, the grip white-knuckled. This time, her hand wasn’t shaking, as if her confidence in her abilities had returned.
I tilted my head and walked toward her, noticing the nervous tic in the corner of her mouth. Her hard shell was cracking.
She tried to stand her ground but the closer I came, the more she became unnerved, taking several steps backward until there was nowhere to go, her back hitting the wall. “Don’t. We can’t do that again. We just can’t.” Blinking several times, she shook her head over and over again, the shift forcing hair to fall into her eyes.
Now, only a few inches away, I kept every move slow and deliberate, wrapping my hand around her wrist and using just enough pressure until she released her stronghold on the knife. “I’m not going to hurt you, Crystal. You should have figured that out by now.” I’d caught the fact she’d glanced at my scar more than once. For women who had no idea about my status within the Sanchez organization, they usually ran away in fear, as if my damaged face was the distinct sign of a less than honorable man. While Crystal was drawn, the fact I was an ugly fucker didn’t seem to bother her. Her fear had more to do with the asshole gang members than the monster standing in front of her.
“Why should I believe you? For all I know, you could be a serial killer.” Her defiance was endearing but fake. “And yes, I know what occurred between us. I can never forget that.”
“You’re right. I could be a killer, but you didn’t seem to mind when I was spanking your ass or shoving my cock into your wet pussy.”
Her lower lip quivered as I placed the knife on the stainless-steel table. The intensity of a fire burning in my belly was increasing, leaving my cock pinched. I wanted this woman again and again. There was no rhyme or reason, but there was also no denying the raging hunger feasting on my system. Releasing my hold, I dared to slide the hair from her face, gingerly placing the long strand behind her ear. Just as I’d seen her do. The action was intimate, more so than if I’d crushed my mouth over hers. “I am a very bad man, Crystal and neve
r forgot that, but if my intention had been to hurt you in any manner, trust me, I would have already done so.”
A strangled gasp pushed past her lips. When she spoke, her words were little more than a whisper. “Fine. You’re right and I should have asked then. Who are you? What’s your name?”
“Who I am isn’t important.” I wanted the slight caress to linger, but I needed to get her out of here safely and in order to do that, she would need to place trust in a man who could just have easily killed her. “My name is Blade.”
A snap of surprise was followed by a second’s worth of amusement. “As in the knife?”
I nodded, blinking once.
“O-kay. I suppose you aren’t going to tell me why.”
“There’s no need to. Better you don’t know shit about me.” I let her go, hesitating for only a second more before moving back to the main part of the bar. I sensed she’d followed me. “Is there any other way of getting in or out?”
“No. Just the two doors. Why?”
There was no need to mince words. I gathered she had a true understanding. “One night they’ll return; maybe not tonight but this is only the beginning and they’ll bring reinforcements.”
“Sounds like you know who they are.” Her words were confrontational.
“I know their type extremely well. Doesn’t matter their name or affiliation. They were nothing more than the lowlife grunts, but they’re still dangerous and now royally pissed off. You’re not safe to drive home alone. You dared stand against them. A sentry will pay attention to every move you make.” I moved toward the window, peering outside before twisting the blinds closed.
“And why shouldn’t I learn anything about you? I would think our level of intimacy would allow me certain knowledge.”
I wasn’t used to women making demands. It wasn’t protocol in the ugly world of the mafia. “For your safety. You’ll have to trust me on that.”
“Trust. Uh-huh.” Crystal allowed a short laugh before cutting off the sound. “Let me guess. You actually think I’m going to allow you to come home with me. That kind of trust?”
