Chapter 4
Melissa
Another whoop sounded off from across the room, and I looked over the top of my taps to see Donnie’s friend Matt with his hands around his mouth, yelling something at one of the girls walking past their table. I sighed.
The other staff here generally left Donnie alone when he came in, so it fell down to me to tell him and his friends that they needed to keep it down. I hated that. Donnie was at his worst when he was drunk, as last night's incident reminded me, and I wasn't feeling quite up to dealing with that again. Nonetheless, he was my problem.
I passed over the drinks I'd been pouring and stepped out from behind the bar, reminding myself with every step that I had a right to tell them to shut up and if they gave me any sass I had a right to get rid of them. It alarmed me to think that it wasn't repercussions from my boss I worried about, but repercussions for Donnie himself.
"Hey," I snapped when I reached their table.
All four sets of drink-addled eyes turned to me. All four sets carved a path from my tits to my ass and back up. If Donnie saw any of his friends checking me out, he clearly didn't care. That got my back up too.
"Hey baby," Donnie crooned.
"You guys are being disruptive." I tried to sound as authoritative as possible, but I could already see how little they cared. "You need to quiet down a bit."
"We're just having a bit of fun, Mel," said Derek.
"Yeah, Mel," sang Andrew.
I looked to Donnie with imploring eyes. "Please keep it down. Your uncle would ask you the same thing if he were here."
"I didn't realize you were dating the fun police," Matt said.
The rest of them laughed like he'd just cracked the funniest joke they'd ever heard. They were a bunch of idiots, and I was almost completely sure that if Donnie was around them less he would be less of an asshole. There was a direct correlation between how much time he spent with these idiots and how aggressive he was at home.
Donnie must have read in my eyes how done I was with this conversation and his friends, as he waved at them to quiet down.
"Chill, guys. We can be a little quieter. Wouldn't want to stress out my baby girl."
It was almost sweet, except there was a distinctly mocking tone that set my teeth on edge. I would talk to him about that later. Well, not later, he'd still be drunk later. I'd talk about it with him tomorrow, and maybe I’d even suggest that he consider cooling it on the booze for a while.
"Thanks." I scooped up a couple of the empty glasses from the table and left without offering them another drink. If they wanted one, they could either play nice with the one of the servers or come and get one themselves.
Back at the bar, Neil Buckins tipped his head and raised his beer. "Nicely done."
I laughed. "Wrangling my boyfriend has got to be one of my most profitable skills."
"That and pouring the best beer in town."
I appreciated the compliment, even if it was hardly a sterling attribute to have. Neil was a nice guy, and he was one of the more pleasant people to surround me on my shift.
I didn’t know what it was, but something deep inside me urged me to look up from the bar and toward the front door. It was like a tug that came from the pit of my belly, shocking me in its urgency. My gaze snapped up to the door just as the most beautiful, broken man I'd ever seen walked through.
I say broken because he looked it—one eye swollen, lip busted, a gash across his cheekbone. He'd done a fair job of cleaning up the cuts, but there was some residual blood creeping up into his hairline and I could tell the wounds were fresh.
What really struck me was how he looked underneath all the gore. Even with all that it was easy to see he was movie star gorgeous. His sandy hair was tousled in a way that would have looked effortless if it weren't for the dark streaks of blood. He had a wide, angular jaw and full lips, with just a shadow of dark stubble on his cheeks. As he got closer, I could see that his nose was a little crooked in the middle, like it'd been broken once or twice before. Based on his current appearance, that didn't surprise me.
The strange man took the seat next to Neil and rested his elbows on the bar top. I spent so long staring at the way his biceps bulged against the cotton of his t-shirt, and at all the tattoos snaking down to his wrists, that I forgot for a moment that I was supposed to be serving him drinks.
I came back to myself, blinking rapidly, and met his gaze. It wasn't the hint of amusement on his lips, nor was it the intensity of his stare that made my breath catch—it was the way the room seemed to fade out of focus the moment our eyes met, and it felt like I was falling into the swirling hazel depths like Alice down the rabbit hole.
"Pilsner, please," he said.
"Coming right up." I moved down the bar and started pouring his pint, conscious of his gaze on me the whole time.
Who was this guy? Why hadn't I seen him around before? And what the hell had happened to him?
I had so many questions that I didn't even know where to start. Apparently he had a few of his own, too, because when I slid the drink down in front of him he caught my gaze again and gestured to his eye.
"That's one hell of a shiner you've got there," he said.
"I could say the same for you."
The man prodded at his swollen lid and hissed. "How bad does it look?"
"It’s pretty badass, if I'm being honest," I said. "What's the other guy look like?"
"Other guys," he corrected. "And a lot better than they'll look if I ever see them again."
I leaned in a little closer, almost instinctively, though I flipped a glance over the guy's shoulder to check to see if Donnie was looking. He wasn't, too caught up in whatever hilarious story he was telling to his salivating fans. Even if the flirting was completely harmless, I didn't want to see what Donnie might do if he saw me chatting up a stranger like this. He may have been fine with his friends checking me out, but he became pretty territorial when it came to anyone else.
"I haven't seen you around before," I said. "You live in town?"
The man shook his head, taking a long drink of his beer. I watched the level in his glass lower and figured he must've really needed that drink. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been so curious about someone.
"No, I'm from Bell Springs," he said. "Name's Jack."
"Jack from Bell Springs," I mused. "I'm Melissa, from here. Hardly ever been anywhere else, if I'm being honest. What brings you to Cannon, Jack from Bell Springs?"
The smile he offered made heat swell in my core. It was pure mischief, like he'd just gotten a look up my skirt and was thinking naughty thoughts about what he'd seen. I clenched my thighs together and held onto my smile like a life raft to keep from drowning in the sudden onslaught of lust.
Christ, I hadn't felt like this about anyone since...well, ever. Donnie was my only long term relationship and though there'd been times where he'd filled my stomach with butterflies, these days it was more often moths. I sent an anxious glance Donnie's way again, sure that he must have felt my sudden flaming interest for this newcomer. He was still joking around with his friends, and it didn't even bother me that they were getting rowdy again.
"I guess you could say I kinda just ended up here," Jack said. He ran his thumb over his jaw thoughtfully and I couldn't help but notice how gigantic his hands were.
"Well I only hope the rest of your night is better than the beginning of it clearly was."
He laughed. "You too, sweetheart."
Okay, I was officially gone. Lost somewhere in the void. Nobody had ever called me sweetheart, or at least not like that. There was something dark and raw about every word that came from Jack's mouth, and I was utterly spellbound in his presence. Red danger lights started flashing in my head.
"Hey, Mel?"
I turned to see Naomi at my side, a pained expression flattening her features. This couldn't be good.
"What is it?"
She huffed a sigh and glared over in the direction of my boyfrien
d and his friends, then grabbed my arm and guided me out of earshot of the patrons. "One of Donnie's pack grabbed Anna's ass. She wants me to leave it alone but I'm sorry, this time I just can't. You're the only one those boys will listen to and I need you to go read them the riot act."
My good mood plummeted. I couldn't have a single moment of peace, could I? I didn't blame Naomi for asking me to take care of the situation, not even a little. I felt awful, even though I wasn't responsible. More than that, I was embarrassed.
"Please tell Anna I'm so sorry," I said. "I'll take care of it."
"Thanks hon." Naomi let out a relieved sigh and pushed some of the dark hair that had escaped her ponytail back from her forehead. "It's been a crazy night, huh? Must be a full moon or something."
I laughed. "Must be."
Returning to the bar, I went down the line of drinkers to see if anybody needed anything. I didn't know how this confrontation was going to go or how long it would keep me away from the bar. Was it too much to hope that it was going to be over quickly?
I saved Jack for last, both because I'd only just gotten him a drink and because I figured his face being the last thing I saw before I entered the battle dome was pretty ideal.
Concern flickered over his expression when I approached. "Everything okay?"
"Oh yeah," I said, waving a hand dismissively. "Nothing I can't handle, but I've got to leave the bar for a sec. Want another beer in case it takes me a few minutes?"
"Does it have anything to do with what happened to your eye?" Jack asked.
I frowned. Now my good mood had officially been trampled on and mud-soaked.
"I don't think that's any of your business."
He didn't flinch. "I wasn't trying to pry," he said. "You seem like you can handle your own. I just hate the thought of a nice girl like you getting caught up in something nasty. I can help."
It could have been condescending if he didn't seem so genuine in his intention. Jack really did want to help. He didn't know what it was or what it might be that I needed help with, but he'd picked up my subliminal distress signals and was at the ready if I needed him. Unfortunately, like all things where my boyfriend was concerned, I needed to handle this one alone.
"Your concern has been noted," I said with an appreciative head nod. "I'm fine. Just a little bar business. Now do you want another drink or not?"
He smiled and shook his head. "I'll wait until you're back."
I nodded and walked down to the other end of the counter, stepping out onto the bar I could feel Jack watching me. It was oddly comforting, and I found myself walking with my head high and my shoulders square and straight.
Chapter 5
Jack
God, she was beautiful.
When I first walked into this shitty dive bar she shone out like a beacon of light, drawing me forward with promises of a cold drink and a warm smile. I'd never wanted someone so much in my life, which right off the bat meant this girl was trouble. Her sweetness was at odds with the fire raging under her skin, like her smile was just honeyed bait and anyone who got too close might soon find their hides torn by her ragged teeth. I couldn't help thinking that I wouldn't mind that so much, actually.
I watched her tight little ass sashay over to the table at the far side of the room that I soon noticed was composed of real meathead looking dudes who'd been pissing me off since the second I stepped in. I didn't like loudmouths. They were only ever loud for some reason, and it was never because they had anything to say. The inadequacies of strangers didn't make a great bar soundtrack, but I soon was able to forget them after spending a single second in the company of the effervescent Melissa.
Her short, dark curls bobbed as she spoke to the men at the table, one of whom in particular was glaring at her sourly. He rose, and they started heading outside. I nearly gave in to the desire to follow them, but it really wasn't my place. I'd already overstepped by asking her about the eye. I couldn't help it. I didn't even know the girl and I already wanted to smash the teeth in of whoever did that to her. I imagined someone giving a black eye like that to my sister and saw red.
When the door closed behind Melissa, I turned back to my drink and took a sip. I'd downed nearly the whole beer, and it was starting to ease the full-body ache I was experiencing, though the sharp pain in my ribs refused to abate.
"You're that fighter guy, aren't you?" the guy beside me asked.
I looked over to see he had his whole body turned toward me, one hand resting on his paint-stained jeans. He was an older fella, probably in his late fifties or early sixties, though he still had a full head of grizzled salt and pepper hair sticking out at every angle on his head. His face was a peachy pink that told me he'd already had a few tonight, and I wondered if I was going to end up having to tell another nosy drunk to fuck off.
"I saw you scrap over in Rutina a few months ago," he continued when I still didn't answer. "You were incredible. Your hands were so quick I knew the second you started that the other guy didn't have a chance."
"Thanks."
I turned back to face the wall behind the bar, disinterested in playing out the rest of the conversation. People occasionally recognized me and wanted to talk about my fights, but they soon learned that wasn't a topic of conversation I was open to.
I fought because I needed to and I was good at it, not because I enjoyed it. Sure, I enjoyed letting out the tightness in my muscles, drawing on every last drop of anger and rage that swam in my veins and putting it into a punch, but I took shame in that enjoyment. It wouldn't matter if I was fighting the biggest asshole in the world, I would still be overly conscious of the fact that my mom would have disapproved and that was enough to make me want to forget it entirely.
"You here looking for a fight?" the guy pressed.
Jeez, couldn't he take a hint?
I scowled into my drink and upended it, draining the last few mouthfuls, then cleared my throat. "No."
"Probably for the best," he said. "You look like you've had all you can handle tonight."
I was getting really tired of people commenting on the fact that I'd obviously had the shit kicked out of me. My shoulders tightened and I shot a glare in the nosy guy's direction.
"Is there something I can help you with?"
His eyes widened and he shook his head. "No, no. I'm sorry, son. I didn't mean no offense. I guess I'm a little star struck is all." He chuckled at his joke, but his face fell when he saw I wasn't chuckling too. "Hey, when Melissa gets back I'll buy you your next beer," he said. "I didn't mean to step on your toes and I can tell I have."
He was clearly a nice guy and I felt bad for making him so antsy. I sighed and faced him again, forcing my lips up in the corners in a way I hoped would come across as friendly.
"It's no problem," I said. "I've just had a long night. As you and everyone else here can plainly see."
"Name's Neil Buckins," he said, extending a hand toward me.
"Jack Paxton."
We shook hands and Neil took a swig of beer, some of it dribbling into his wiry beard.
"I heard you talking to Melissa. You're from Bell Springs?"
"Yup. Just passing through."
"You just go from town to town, looking for fights? How does that work?"
"No, it's not like that." I didn't really want to talk about fighting, but talking to Neil seemed like a good way to pass the time until Melissa got back. The longer she was gone, the more anxious I was to go out back and make sure she was okay. I decided I'd give it another couple of minutes and then I'd let myself give in to that compulsion.
"I get a call every few weeks or months from a guy who fixes fights for me. He gives me a time and a place, I go. Simple as that."
“So you’re only a part-time fighter,” Neil mused. “What do you do when you’re not out there cracking skulls? Or are you just making enough money that you don’t need to worry about it?”
I studied him, but could detect no sign of malice in his intent. He was just a chat
ty old man and I was the new, exciting exhibit at his local bar.
“You ask a lot of questions.”
He grinned, exposing a set of teeth that were whiter and straighter than I would have pegged him for. “I’m a curious kind of guy.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you then. I’m just an average construction worker most of the time. There’s not a lot of work back home, but I take it when it comes up.”
“Interesting.” Neil stroked his beard and shuffled closer on his stool. “And you say you’re just passing through?”
“Yup.”
“Any chance I could compel you to stay?”
I cocked a suspicious brow and leaned away from him. I still couldn’t figure out whether I liked the weirdo or not.
“Why would you want me to do that?”
“It’s nothing shady, I promise. I’m managing a new development they’re putting up on the outskirts of town. We need as many hands as we can get, and yours seem about as strong and capable as they come.”
I laughed, shaking my head in bemusement. “You don’t know anything about me except that I’m a good fighter.”
“That says a lot about a man though, don’t you think? You’re strong, dedicated, and persistent. That’s more than I can say for most of my guys.”
He clearly picked up my disinterest, and in one last flagging attempt he produced a business card from his wallet and slid it over in front of me on the bar.
“Just think about it,” he said. “There may not be much work in Bell Springs, but there’s lots here with this new contract. And it’s not so bad a place. Unless there’s something keeping you in Bell Springs of course.” He grinned slyly. “But from what I saw of how much you were checking out Melissa, I’d bet my hat that you’re an unattached man.”
He was awkward and a little strange, but I liked Neil. I liked his lack of inhibition and there was something very sincere about him. That didn’t mean I would stay in Cannon and work for him, but it was enough for me to take his card.
Briefly, I allowed myself to wonder what it would be like if I did stay in Cannon. Maybe I could get to know the Alibi’s beautiful bartender a little more. Would it be so bad to be away from home? It wasn’t like I had anything there other than a run down house and a load of childhood memories. The memories were probably to blame for me staying there so long. Bell Sprins and Sadie were the only things I had left to connect me to my mom, and since Sadie was away at college I didn’t have much of her either.
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