by Nicole Fox
“Thanks,” she said. “But I’m not a little kid. You don’t need to play ‘Daddy’ with me.”
At that moment I thought about just how much I’d love to play “Daddy” with her, though probably not the sort of game that she had in mind.
“Fine,” I said. “You’re a big girl, and you can do whatever you think is right. But just remember my offer.”
She looked for a moment like she wanted to play strong, independent woman a little more and really make it clear that she was nobody’s little kid. But then she decided to do the smart thing and take the offer in the spirit it was intended.
“Thanks,” she said. “Not just for that, but for everything else. You didn’t have to take a chance on me, especially with my, um, not so hot first impression. But you did, and it’s only because I just can’t afford to not take an offer like this that I’m leaving. So, yeah.”
I nodded.
“Maybe someday you’ll play on my stage after all,” I said.
Roxy laughed.
“Hell,” she said. “I’d be happy if you just listened to my CD.”
Now it was my turn to chuckle.
“See you, Roxy,” I said.
There was an odd, tense moment as Roxy tried to decide if she wanted to hug me or what. She decided on a little wave before heading out the door.
“See you, Zane,” she said.
She gave me a wink and ducked out of the door and was gone. I poured myself another shot, this time with the intention of sipping it for a while.
I shook my head. That girl really had no idea what kind of shit she was getting into. And she seemed so sure of herself, like she’d gotten all of the angles covered before making her decision. I knew Buck better than she did, however, and I knew just how charming he could be when he knew what he wanted. Well, charming in a greasy, used-car-salesman sort of way.
I imagined him making her feel all good and special, giving her an offer so good that she couldn’t say no. I’d worked with Buck for long enough to know just what he had in mind for girls like her, and it wasn’t going out of his way to give her a leg-up in the music world.
The best I could do was let her know that she could come to me for whatever she needed and hope that her immature pride would let her take me up on it.
With a quick tilt of my head, I polished off the rest of my shot. And as soon as I set down my glass, a series of rapid knocks sounded on the office door.
“Yo!” I shouted out.
With that, the door was flung open and Motor and Rex rushed it. They plopped onto the leather seats and made themselves comfortable.
“Damn, Z!” said Motor, pointing at the door he’d just come in from. “We just saw Roxy saying goodbye and shit to some of the regulars—she’s really out of here?”
“She’s really out of here,” I said.
“And you’re just gonna let her go?” asked Rex.
“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” I asked. “Tie her up and keep her in the basement or some shit?”
Motor and Rex shared a look that made it clear that neither of them considered that all that bad of an option.
“Seriously though,” said Rex. “That girl’s gonna get eaten alive at Buck’s.”
“No shit,” I said. “But she’ll find that out the hard way—on her own.”
Chapter 14
Roxy
“You stupid motherfucker!”
The expression on the biker’s face was one of the kind of animal rage that you could only get to after a few too many whiskey shots. His eyes were like little red coals set among his wild hair and massive, caveman beard.
“The fuck did you just call me?” yelled out the other biker, a wormy-looking guy who couldn’t have been more than five-six.
“Oh, so you’re stupid and fucking deaf too?”
“Fuck you!”
“Fuck you!”
Then a pool cue whooshed through the air, connecting on the leather-vest-clad back of the bearded biker. The cue broke in half with a sharp “crack,” splinters flying into the air around them. The bearded biker looked around him after the attack, as if trying to put together what had just happened. When he realized, his eyes narrowed in pure hate.
“Oh, you’ve done it now, you little shit.”
A crowd had gathered around the men by this point, everyone at Boozehounds ready for this hour’s entertainment. Whoops and hollers sounded out, the bikers and their girls gathered around eagerly egging on the two.
“Didn’t your mama ever tell you that you shouldn’t pick on a man twice your size?” said the bigger biker.
“Don’t know,” said the shorter one. “But I could tell you all sorts of shit your mama said to me the other night.”
Ohhs and ahhs sounded out from the crowd, as though they were watching a fireworks display or something. My stomach tightened, knowing that this little guy had just guaranteed that he’d be spending the night in the nearest hospital.
“The fuck did you just say?” said the big one.
“Are we gonna go over the shit about you being deaf again?”
The big man didn’t need to hear anything else. He lunged forward, grabbing the little guy by the shoulders. Effortlessly, he lifted the smaller biker off of his feet, then over his head. Then he tossed the little twerp across the bar like a sack of rice, the little biker landing with a thud on a pool table ten or so feet away.
The little biker was still, and I wasn’t sure if he was playing possum or actually out cold. Either way, the fight was over.
“Fucking little piece of shit!” said the bigger biker, bowing his arms out around him like a gorilla.
The crowd closed in on him, slapping his back and congratulating him for winning that very easy fight.
And I just stood behind the bar, watching it all unfold.
“Damn,” said Marley, the stringy-haired bartender who was training me. “He really fucked that guy up!”
He turned his beady brown eyes onto me, as if wanting to find out just how impressed I’d been by the fight.
“What’d you think of that shit?” he asked. “I mean, for a second there I thought the little dude was going to try some shit, like pull out a knife or something. That would’ve made things a little more interesting, huh?”
“I guess ‘interesting’ could be one word you could use,” I said, polishing a beer glass.
“You shoulda been here last week,” said Marley, going on as if I’d actually shown interest in what he was talking about. “These two guys from the Tunnel Snakes got into it over some girl or some shit like that. Well, one of them did have a knife, and he wasn’t afraid to use it. He whipped that thing out and swiped it through the air so fucking fast you wouldn’t believe it!”
Marley made a quick cutting gesture, illustrating his point.
“And he just cut through the air, you know? Didn’t make contact—or so we thought. A split-second went by, and we were all like, oh, he missed. But the second guy let out this scream, like this horrible, blood-curdling scream, like something out of a horror movie or some shit.”
Marley’s little eyes went wider, and I could tell that he was getting to his favorite part of the story.
“And we were all wondering just what the fuck happened. But then we saw it – there was something dangling from the guy’s head, something skin-colored and about the size of a pack of playing cards. And it all dawned us at the same time just what this fucking thing was—it was the guy’s ear!”
He clapped his hands together in excitement.
“Can you believe that?” he said. “The knife sliced right through the guy’s ear, and the thing was just hanging on by a little piece of skin!”
My stomach turned; I didn’t want anything more than to have this story end right then and there. But Marley was my new coworker—I had to at least pretend to be nice if this job was going to go smoothly.
“Um, then what happened?”
“It dangled there for a little while before just droppi
ng off onto the ground—total fucking gnarly.”
“Did they put it back on?”
Marley looked confused, as if this part of the story was where things got hazy for him. He was clearly more interested in the blood-and-guts than any kind of happy resolution.
“I think so,” he said. “They all got him over the hospital with the ear wrapped in ice or some shit. Last I heard they stitched the little fucker back on. I think.”
I gulped. I knew that Boozehounds was a much, much rougher place than Amped, but I wasn’t ready for this level of brutality. I kept telling myself over and over again that it would all be worth it when the band and I were able to play onstage. We’d rock this fucking place and make the name for ourselves that I knew we deserved.
At that moment, one of the bikers strolled up to the bar, barked out his drink order at me, and I went to work. As I put his drink together, I watched out of the corner of my eye as his gaze lingered on me, moving from my ass around to my breasts. I felt gross and used and like a piece of meat. I was used to be ogled in the service industry, but what the guys did here was on a whole other level.
“Thanks, doll,” said the biker, dropping a five into the tip jar as he took his drink.
I flashed a fake smile as he gave me one last ogle before heading off.
The money was pretty damn good here, sure, but most of it came from leering bikers who gave me big tips after eye-fucking me for a good minute. I couldn’t help but worry if some of them might start to get the impression that their generous tips meant that they were entitled to other kinds of “services.”
“The customers really like you,” said Marley. “You’re a total hit with them.”
“Great …” I said, my voice trailing off.
“But I’ll handle the bar for now; why don’t you go clean up the mess from the last fight? Mop and bucket and broom are in the usual spot.”
“Great …” I repeated.
I headed off, a little happy, actually, to be able to get away from the lingering gazes of the bar patrons. Sure, they’d still be staring at my ass while I was bent over and cleaning, but at least this way I could pretend that they weren’t doing it. Out of sight, out of mind.
Once I’d grabbed the supplies, I headed over to where the fight had happened. Sure enough, the area was a small mess of wood splinters from the pool cue and blood. I took a deep breath and set to cleaning, throwing that pink sawdust stuff on the ground and getting the liquid soaked up. Once that was done, I started with the broom, then the mop.
“Damn, girl,” said a voice behind me. “I could watch you clean all damn day.”
I gritted my teeth and went back to work. But that didn’t do any good—more hoots, hollers, and whistles sounded out around me. I couldn’t believe it, but I wanted to run back behind the bar and deal with the assholes from the safety that small barrier.
“All right, shithead,” said a familiar voice. “How about we let the lady work without the eye-fucking?”
I turned to see Buck standing among the patrons, his imposing form cutting an impressive stance among them. They got the hint right away and went back to their drinks and women.
“I think you’re about ready for a break,” he said, flashing me a smile. “How about it?”
Despite the weird vibe I got from Buck, I was more than okay with that.
“Sure,” I said.
“I’ll take care of this shit,” he said. “Why don’t you go ahead and meet me in my office?”
Relief washed over me. Being away from the floor, even for a little while, sounded about as nice as it got. I hurried towards the door leading into the backrooms and stepped through it, happy to have some silence and a break from the pervs.
We arrived moments later in Buck’s office. I couldn’t help but compare it to Zane’s—while Zane’s was a pretty tasteful little spot, cozy even, Buck’s office looked like the bedroom of an angsty teenage boy. Metal band posters adorned the walls, the furniture looked like it’d been witness to all kinds of nasty debauchery, and empty booze bottles had been tossed carelessly here and there.
“Grab a seat,” said Buck, hopping onto the edge of his desk just like Zane would do.
I looked hesitatingly at the leather couch, trying to figure out how to put my ass onto it in a way where I wouldn’t have to touch any of the mysterious stains on its surface. Eventually finding a good spot, I gingerly sat down.
“So,” said Buck. “What do you think so far?”
“It’s, um, nice,” I said, not knowing what other word to use.
Buck let out a loud, barking laugh.
“Lots of words I’d use to describe this joint, but ‘nice’ sure as shit ain’t one of them. Listen, I know it’s a shithole, but I’m sure you’ve figured out so far that the money’s pretty damn good. And the boys aren’t so bad once you learn how to wrangle them.”
Then his expression turned serious.
“And you have my fuckin’ word that none of them are gonna touch you. Got it?”
I nodded, already wanting to get back out on the floor. Something about being alone with Buck made me very uneasy.
“All right,” he said, as if reading my mind, “go ahead and get back out there.”
I nodded and hurried out of the office. Moments later I was back behind the bar, ready to lose myself in the work. The rest of the night went by without much incident—no more gory fights, that is. By the time the shift was done with, I was ready to get back to my couch and sleep the evening off.
“Yo!” called out Buck as I started off towards the exit.
I turned just in time to see him run up to me.
“Block’s pretty sketchy at this time of night,” he said. “Let me walk you to your car.”
“Um, sure,” I replied.
Buck flashed me another one of his big-toothed smiles as he held the door open for me. A minute or so later we were heading down the dimly-lit walkway leading to the small lot where I’d parked my car. Once my car was in sight, I hurried towards it, ready to leave.
But as I reached out towards the driver’s side door, Buck’s hand shot out and onto the car.
“Hold up,” he said. “Got something I want to talk to you about first.”
“What is it?” I asked, anxiety pooling in my gut.
“I’ve just been thinking about our little arrangement, about how I was nice and generous in letting you have a whole night to yourself.”
“It was very nice, thank you,” I said, unsure of where this was going.
“So I’m thinking that if I’m going to be so nice as to let you have a whole night just for you and your little band, then maybe you oughta sweeten the deal a little bit?”
I didn’t like where this was going. Not one bit.
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe we can work something out where you give me an occasional, very relaxing work break every now and then. Something real nice and private, if you catch my drift.”
“Are you asking what I think you’re asking?”
“You’re a smart girl,” he said. “Use your imagination. I think you can figure it out.”
With that, he grabbed my hand and forced it down to his crotch, that awful, lecherous smile on his face.
All I could do was scream.
Chapter 15
Zane
Earlier that evening …
I had to admit it: I was more than a little bummed that Roxy was gone. Although she’d only been here for a couple of weeks, she’d brought … something special to Amped. The regulars loved her, the staff was happy to have her as part of the team, and she was a damn good employee on top of everything.
“Boss,” said Jess, as I sat at the bar, the place slowly filling up with patrons. “You look a little out of sorts, if you don’t mind me prying.”
“Nah, it’s fine,” I said, wrapping my hand around my beer.
“Let me guess,” he said. “You’re thinking about Roxy.”
Then his eyes went wide as
he realized just what he might’ve been implying.
“I mean, not like that. Just how it kind of sucks that she’s not behind the bar anymore. That’s all.”
“I got that,” I said.
“Hell, even Mia’s bummed.”
“Am not,” Mia quickly shot back, her voice with that same icy tone it always seemed to have.
