Jodi_ByTheLight

by JenniferLitteken

  “Good.” He turned his attention to Ava, who snagged a French fry off a passing tray. She gave him a sheepish smile after she stuffed the evidence in her mouth.

  “Stay behind the bar with Jeff.”

  “What if I have to go to the bathroom?”

  “Then Jeff will wait outside the door.” Damon gave Jeff a heavy stare. “Feed her before she starts working.” He handed him a twenty, but Jeff waved it away.

  “All my employees get a free meal when they’re working.”

  He nodded, but handed her the twenty anyway.

  “I’ll be okay. I can handle myself.”

  “Just like with those kidnappers.”

  She scowled at him. “They drugged me. It wasn’t a fair fight. If it was, I would have ripped their dicks off and shoved them up their asses.”

  “Nice visual.” He cringed.

  “Thanks.” She slid closer. “Be careful.”

  “I always am.”

  “And no lap dances.” She stuck a finger in his face for emphasis.

  “Only if you’re doing the dancing.”

  “And no slipping money in a G-string.” She narrowed her eyes.

  He smiled. He liked her being jealous, not that she would have any reason to be. After her, no woman would ever mean anything else to him.

  “You have nothing to worry about.” He held her close and kissed the side of her neck. Opening his mouth, he let his teeth graze her shoulder. He wished they were alone so he could run his mouth down the rest of her body.

  Her hand skated under the front of his T-shirt as she trailed her nails down his skin. He growled against her neck. “Female, you’re driving me crazy.”

  “This is nothing.” Her deep sultry voice was making it hard to concentrate.

  Reluctantly, he pulled away from her. For once in his life, he really didn’t want to do his job. For once, all he wanted was to stay with Ava.

  “Jeff will look after you.”

  “I’m going to take care of her, Damon. Don’t worry.” Jeff slapped him on the back as he passed by.

  He kissed her hard before turning toward the door. He grinned as Ava spoke to Jeff.

  “So, Jeff, what kind of gun do you carry behind the bar?”

  ***

  Damon shouldered his way through the crowded strip club and eased onto a corner bar stool with his back to the wall.

  The club reeked of smoke and sweat, making his stomach turn. Hopefully, he could get what he wanted and get out.

  He glanced at the stage and frowned. There were still professional strippers dancing. He glanced at his watch. Amateur dancing should have started by now.

  He ordered a shot of Grey Goose. The bartender with sleeve tattoos and spiky, blue-tipped hair met his gaze. His informant. The bartender turned away as he filled Damon’s order. It gave him a moment to think about Ava. He ran his hands through his hair, irritated at himself for leaving her alone in that damn bar.

  She wasn’t exactly alone. Jeff was there and had promised to look after her. But still, he didn’t like it.

  Shaking his head, he pushed away his irrational worries and scanned the bar, looking for David Jenkins.

  The strippers had more rhythm than what he and Ava had seen earlier that day. The club probably saved their better dancers for the night crowd.

  A group of college-aged guys lined up around the end of the stage waving dollar bills as the voluptuous stripper jiggled her huge tits in their faces.

  “I bet you don’t usually order Grey Goose. I bet you’re usually a Jack Daniels man.” The tattooed bartender slid him the shot of vodka across the counter.

  Damon narrowed his gaze. “I heard you got some information for me.”

  A drunken frat boy wearing a purple LSU sweatshirt stumbled into Damon before slamming his hand down on the table. “Give me a round of tequila shots.”

  Damon flinched, fisting his hands to keep from punching the guy. Now was not the time to cause a scene.

  The bartender ignored the guy and continued drying a glass with his bar towel. “I think you’ve had enough, son.”

  “Look here asshole, you’re not my mommy. I got money and I want my tequila shots.” The frat boy slapped a hundred-dollar bill on the bar.

  Damon turned toward the college guy. “I think you better listen to him and walk away.”

  The frat boy faced Damon, looking him up and down before turning his lip up in disgust. “Do you know who I am, Scarface? My father is Senator Harris.”

  Rage boiled over in his chest, and he grabbed the kid’s hand and wrapped it behind his back. Frat boy screamed like a little girl.

  Leaning near his ear, he growled. “That shit doesn’t fly in here. I could rip out your fucking throat and disembowel you before you take your next breath. And no one in here would ever breathe a word about it. Your little daddy would never find enough of you to bury, you piece of shit.”

  The scent of fear rolled off the boy, fueling his rage.

  “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean anything by it, man!” The guy’s breath was coming in small pants and he appeared to be on the verge of passing out.

  “Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to apologize to the bartender for calling him names because I know your daddy didn’t raise you to be a dickhead, now did he?”

  “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean what I said. It’s the alcohol; it makes me act like an asshole.” The kid turned his panicked gaze on the amused bartender.

  “Now, you’re going to get your college buddies and get the fuck out of here because I know you dickheads have a curfew.”

  “Okay, okay, just let me go.” His voice turned into the whine of a child.

  “You guys aren’t coming back in here, are you?”

  “No! I won’t, I swear! Hell, the only reason I came was to see amateur night.”

  Damon slowly let go of frat boy. The guy bolted and ran headlong into a waitress, sending alcohol and glass flying across the floor. He tried to stand up as another waitress came with a towel to help clean, but ended up slipping and busting his ass. He sent out a yell that even made Damon cringe.

  His buddies pulled him up and escorted him out.

  Damon turned back to the bartender.

  “Appreciate the help, man.” The bartender slid a shot of Jack Daniel’s in front of him. “Here, on the house.”

  “Thanks.” He tossed the amber liquid back, letting it burn a fiery trail down his throat.

  “No problem. The name’s Braxton.” He stuck out his hand and Damon accepted it.

  “Damon.” He nodded toward the door where the college group exited. “He’s too fucking young to even be in here.”

  “Tell me about it. I told the bouncer to make sure and check for IDs. I’m sure that little prick and his gang slipped the bouncer a hundred to get in.” Braxton shook his head in disgust.

  “I’m not surprised.” Damon shrugged.

  “The sad thing is he only came tonight with his buddies to see his girlfriend strip.”

  His head jerked up. “His girlfriend’s a stripper? Aren’t they a little old for him?”

  Braxton shook his head. “She’s not regular dancer. She’s a college girl. His girlfriend was going to strip for amateur night. It got canceled until tomorrow night and he ended up staying anyway.”

  “Wait. They canceled amateur night?”

  Braxton narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Don’t tell me you were here to watch the college girls strip for money.”

  “I was waiting on someone to show up. Apparently, he only shows up on amateur night.” He gritted his teeth.

  “Let me guess. This guy isn’t a friend. Is this Pack business?”

  Damon bowed up. Damn, this guy was a wolf. How the hell had he missed it?

  Braxton smiled. “Relax. The only reason you couldn’t smell me is all the damn smoke in this building. I swear I think I’ve got black lung. Besides I’m not in a Pack, too damn many rules for me.”


  “You work in a strip club. Why not work at Jeff’s and bartend there? At least you wouldn’t be around so many humans.”

  “Actually, I used to work at Jeff’s, until . . .” The bartender looked away.

  “Until what?” Damon cocked his head.

  Braxton looked pained. “Until he caught me banging his daughter in the kitchen.”

  Damon’s mouth fell open. “Jeff has a daughter?”

  “I know, right! I had no idea he was ever mated. When this hot-looking blonde came in one night, we got to talking and one thing led to another, and the next thing I knew…”

  “You were in the kitchen on the butcher block.”

  “Well, not me. She was the one lying on the table.” Braxton shook his head. “Anyway, the next thing I know I’m looking down the barrel of a sawed-off shotgun aimed at my dick.”

  “Damn.” He shook his head and grinned, looking into his empty shot glass.

  “I ended up getting a job here. You’d be surprised how wolves are more ethical than humans.”

  “Actually, I wouldn’t.” Not after the hell he had gone through when he was younger.

  “These young girls coming up from LSU, just to strip for money on amateur night, well, it’s pathetic. When we had to turn them away because it was postponed until tomorrow, you would have thought someone had died.”

  “Why did they postpone it?” He clenched his shot glass.

  “There was a football game tonight, and they figured it wouldn’t be much of a turnout.”

  “Shit.”

  “Are you going to let me know exactly who you’re looking for? Or, do you want to play twenty questions?”

  The bartender seemed to have his moral compass set in the right spot, the question was, could he trust him? He knew from experience people could turn on you in a second, human or wolf.

  “Look, man. I’m just offering. No pressure.” Braxton held his hands up defensively before turning his attention back to fill a drink order. He filled two mugs with beer and placed them on a tray for a waitress to pick up. The waitress gave him a wink and Braxton shook his head.

  “I’m looking for a guy named David Jenkins. I don’t have a picture, but I was hoping you might remember him.”

  Braxton straightened, recognition filling his eyes before his mouth turned into a straight line. “Yeah, I know that asshole. You better hope you get to him before I do.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Fucker took a baseball bat to my Harley.”

  “Are you shitting me?” Damaging someone’s Harley was like fucking someone’s mate.

  “He came in here one night messing with one of the dancers. When she told him she was a stripper and not a hooker he slapped the shit out of her. I took his ass out back and beat the shit out of the bastard. The bouncers had to pull me off him. He threatened to sue the club.”

  “What happened?” He tensed and leaned in. If David Jenkins was brave enough to slap a stripper in a room full of witnesses, then he wouldn’t hesitate to torture a female in private.

  “The club thought about firing me, but all the dancers said they would all walk out if they did. They said I was the only one here looking out for the girls. So, they put me on probation.” Braxton shrugged his tattooed shoulders.

  “And your bike?”

  Braxton snorted. “Here’s the kicker. He came in one night while I was working the bar. Didn’t say anything, in fact he didn’t stay fifteen minutes. When I got off work, I walked around back and that’s when I saw my bike had been beat to shit.”

  “Why didn’t the police get him?”

  “I called the cops and made a report, even told them he did it. But they said there wasn’t enough evidence to support my claims.” Braxton shook his head. “Total bullshit.”

  “How do you keep from killing him when he comes in?” He almost hit a guy for touching his bike one night at a bar in Fayetteville.

  “For one, I need this job. The Packs in Louisiana won’t hire me as a Guardian since Jeff threw his weight around. Right now, this is my only option.”

  “Leave the state.”

  “My mom’s here and I can’t leave her, not now.” Braxton averted his gaze.

  “Bring her with you.”

  Braxton shook his head and grimaced. “My mom won’t leave my father.”

  Understanding dawned and Damon realized more about the situation than Braxton was voicing. “Is he abusive?”

  “Yes.” Braxton scowled.

  “I take it you try to set the bastard straight?”

  “Multiple times. All that did was get my mom upset. I don’t say anything to her anymore about her leaving. I can’t leave her, not yet.”

  Damon’s respect for the guy grew tenfold. Sticking around to protect his mother without killing his father took a lot of patience.

  “I take it you’re not with any of the Louisiana Packs.”

  “How’d you guess?” He gave a wry smile.

  “You don’t seem like the ass kisser sort,” Braxton added dryly.

  He barked out a laugh. “You’re right, I’m not. In fact, I got kicked out of the Louisiana Pack a few years back. Now, I’m in Arkansas.”

  “Really? You like the Arkansas group?”

  To be honest, he hadn’t really thought about whether he liked the members of the Pack, or not. He never really made an attempt to join in whenever they all went out. Maybe he should have made more of an effort.

  “It’s as good as any, I guess.”

  Braxton nodded. “Barrett Middleton is over the Arkansas territory, isn’t he?’

  “Yeah. You know him?”

  Braxton grinned. “I know his reputation. He doesn’t tolerate a whole lot of bullshit.”

  He snorted. “No, he doesn’t. I wouldn’t want to cross him.”

  “Maybe if my situation ever changes, I’ll look you guys up.”

  “Do that.” Damon nodded and shoved his glass back.

  “Since Jenkins didn’t show, I’m assuming you’ll be back tomorrow night.”

  “Count on it. Will you be here?” He arched an eyebrow.

  Braxton shook his head. “I’m not supposed to be working when Jenkins comes in. It’s part of my probation. That’s why they let me work tonight. They knew he wouldn’t show when amateur night was canceled.”

  Damon nodded and stood. Pulling out one of his last twenty-dollar bills, Damon stuffed it in Braxton’s tip jar before leaving.

  ***

  “This is like porn for your mouth.”

  Ava smirked and stood a little taller as she looked at her customer sitting at the bar. The guy in a black wife beater, leather vest and jeans carefully held his chocolate martini glass in both hands. He was the size of a Mack truck and looked totally out of place drinking a girlie drink.

  “Yes and it would be even better if Jeff carried Grey Goose.” She cut her gaze at the owner.

  “You know how much that shit costs?” Jeff slapped his towel on the bar and propped a hand on his hip.

  “You can’t make a decent chocolate martini without Grey Goose.” She turned and faced him, mimicking his stance. “It’s blasphemy.”

  “Seagram’s is cheap and Seagram’s is what I got.”

  She breathed out a sigh of frustration.

  “It tastes like the bomb to me.” The biker sighed in delight.

  “Thanks, I think.” She shook her head. “What’s your name?”

  The biker set his martini glass down. “Rusty.”

  She rested her forearms on the smooth surface of the counter. “Rusty, what if I said I could make a better martini if I had some Grey Goose. Would you be willing to pay the extra money?”

  “Hell, yeah.” His bushy eyebrows shot up, and his goatee did a little excited shake when he grinned. “I don’t see how you could make a better drink than this right here.” He looked at the martini with reverence in his eyes.

  She turned toward Jeff. “See, Rusty’s willing to pay extra for the good stuff.”

&n
bsp; Jeff rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know, Ava. Chocolate martinis in a Were biker bar just doesn’t seem right.”

  Ava arched her eyebrow. “You know, I’m surprised you even had the chocolate liqueur.”

  “It was left over from a bachelorette party a few weeks back.”

  “All I’m saying…” Her words trailed off to a whisper as a delicious sensation hit her deep in her stomach.

  Damon.

  She didn’t have to turn around to know he’d just walked through the door. Closing her eyes, she inhaled. His male scent of sandalwood and leather seeped through every cell in her body and made her tingle in the most inappropriate places.

  “Hey.” The deep timbre of his voice had her turning around.

  “Hey.” She opened her eyes and cleared her throat. “You’re back early. Did everything go okay?” Damn, he looked good. Real good. Good enough to eat.

  He eased himself onto the bar stool with that dangerous air that seemed to surround him. She bit her lip thinking about how he didn’t wear underwear under his tight jeans.

  He gave Jeff a nod and the owner slid a whiskey over to him. Damn, she should’ve been the one to do that.

  “Jenkins didn’t show. It seems amateur night got canceled.”

  Rusty nodded his large head. “Yep, LSU is playing tonight. Can’t do amateur night when LSU is playing. It’s the law.”

  “There isn’t no damn law about LSU and amateur night at the strip club,” Jeff snarled.

  “Might as well be in these parts. People take their college football very seriously in the South.” Rusty nodded.

  Damon watched Rusty as he took another sip and sighed.

  He studied Rusty’s glass. “What the hell are you drinking?”

  “Chocolate martini.” Rusty held out his glass. “Want a sip?”

  His lip curled up in a sneer. “Hell, no.”

  “Don’t dismiss a drink because of its name.” She narrowed her eyes.

  “We could name it something else, like orgasm.” Rusty sighed.

  “I think that name’s already taken.” She reached for her shaker and rinsed it off under the faucet.

  “I take it there were no problems tonight?” Damon’s gaze landed on her and seemed to linger a little too long. All of a sudden it was sweltering in the bar. She grabbed the bar towel with her trembling hands, then quickly proceeded to dry the tumbler, hoping Damon hadn’t seen her reaction.