by Piper Kay
Damien stands up, walking over to Dax. “I love you, baby, I’m so glad you came to your senses though. I mean, I’m quite the catch.” Damien laughs and leans in to give Dax a kiss. “Payce, when Dax left, I was in the hospital, I felt like everything inside of me dried up and crusted away. I knew what he was doing and why, but I had to keep fighting to get him to understand that without him I was nothing.”
“Damn.” I think back to me and Braxton, but it was different.
With me and Brax, I was the one in trouble. We were young and had only been together once, but it was enough for me to know I cared so much, I wasn’t going to bring him down with me. He deserved better than that, better than me, and he didn’t need the trouble I came with. Brax was always the smart one with potential, he had the positive outlook on things and I wasn’t going to spring any problems on him. Even if it meant he would hate me forever.
“I’m glad you both were able to get through the shit you two were dealt, it took some big balls, I tell you.” I take a swallow of beer.
“Dax, Payce here may be a hard ass on the outside, but he cared about someone once, he gets it,” Damien tells him.
“Tell us about it, Payce,” Dax insists, pulling up a chair. He takes Damien’s hand in his and waits for me to talk.
“Man, it was a long time ago, it’s not important anymore.”
“Apparently it is.” Dax arches his eyebrow. “If it wasn’t important, you’d tell us. At least give us a name.”
“His name was Brax. We were young and shit got all fucked up. Like I said, it’s not important anymore. It’s a part of my past that needs to stay buried there.” I grab Damien’s pack of smokes and take one. I quit smoking a year ago. Damien looks at me like I’m insane, but doesn’t say anything.
“You never told me any of the details either, I’m curious.” Damien tosses me the lighter.
“That’s not going happen. Don’t you want to know about Aaron already, that’s why I’m here right?” I sit up in the lounge chair.
“You’re here because you’re a friend, first and foremost, Payce, but yes I want to know. Tell me you have some kind of lead or something.” Damien lights up a smoke himself.
“I do have some info, it didn’t take as long as I thought it might either. Apparently he’s hooked up with a man named Ash, he works at a club downtown.”
“Really? Then what is his fixation with me if he’s with someone else?” Damien asks.
“Not sure yet. I went by the place last night. I wasn’t dressed to go in, however, I did wait outside to see if he showed up, he never did. I stayed until closing and headed home.”
“When are you going back?” Dax flips the steaks over.
“I’ll have someone in there tonight. The whole place isn’t really my kind of scene.”
“Payce, you have to be the one. You know him, Aaron is a tricky bastard, he could have everyone on his side with God knows who believing him. You have to handle this yourself, whoever you send might be buddy-buddy with him.” Damien stands up, helping Dax with the food. “Why can’t you do it yourself?”
“I, um…don’t worry, I should have more info by tonight.” Fuck, I hope he lets this go. “Like I said, I can’t do it. Not my scene and besides, I’ll stick out like a sore thumb.”
“I’m not buying this, Payce. You can blend into anything if you try hard enough. I know you, Payce, what is it that you’re not telling me?” Damien asks.
“At least tell me the name of the place so I can go my goddamned self.” Dax is pissed.
Lowering my head, I whisper, “It’s Braxton’s Club, and no you are not going yourself, not to deal with Aaron. I’ll take care of it.”
Dax and Damien look at each other and then back to me. “Braxton’s Tavern and Grill?” Dax asks. “Oh, wait a minute.” The light bulb goes off. “Braxton, as in Brax? The same Brax, from your past? Oh fuck.”
“See my problem?” I take a drag on the smoke.
“No, not really. You said it was in the past and it didn’t matter.”
“Dax, you’re being rude,” Damien says to him.
“How? Because he used to be involved with someone years ago? Get past it already, he said himself it wasn’t important. Your safety is what matters, period.” Dax’s brow furrows, and he looks back to me.
Neither of them know how to handle this, I’m the one with the past and I know how to deal with idiots like Aaron. Dax is trying to protect the man he loves, I get that. This is one big fucked up mess.
“Dax, stop it now. I’m not asking my friend to cross a line, I flat out refuse it.” Damien mouth twists in anger.
“Then I’ll go,” Dax spouts off back to him.
Damien grabs his arm. “Over my dead body will you go in there or try any other way to deal with Aaron. I saw your face the other night, you really wanted to hurt Aaron and I’m not losing you, goddammit.” Damien is angry, I get it.
“Stop, both of you.” I climb out of the lawn chair. Raising my hand to my forehead, I rub it trying to stop the headache that’s heading my direction. “I’ll do it, he’s right, Damien, me and Braxton are in the past. I’m the one that can do this and will. I’m going to need a little help though.” I grin, trying to break the ice between them and get everyone back on a level playing field again.
“Help with what?” Dax asks. “Anything you need. I’m sorry for being a dickhead, but this bastard keeps fucking with us and getting away with it, over and over. I need Damien safe, I’m sure you understand. What can we help with?”
“I have no idea how to dress going into a place like that.” I duck my head down. “The only thing I own is biker leathers and jeans, and a whole lot of wife beaters and Harley shirts.”
Dax laughs out loud, and Damien nudges him in the side giving him a look that could almost kill. “Okay, sorry. I just find it humorous that the big bad Payce, can run around town to find this psychotic nutter, scaring everyone around him, but he’s worried about how to dress. I’m sorry.” He bursts out laughing again. I’m talking about bowed over, hands on his knees laughing.
“Yeah, yeah. Go ahead. Remember, I’m the one with the shady past, cocksucker. Little hooligan that ran the roads, took the heat for Aaron and ended up in prison. I’ve got friends in low places, man.” I laugh. “Seriously, I really don’t know, I avoid situations that make me dress like that. If you want me to go in there to find Aaron or this Ash dude, I need to be able to get through the fucking door in the first place.”
“Dax!” Damien backhands him in the stomach. “Stop laughing dude, he’s right.”
Dax looks like he’s about to fall out on the ground. “I hope your fucking meat burns.”
I laugh.
“Come with me, Payce, we’re about the same size. I think I can fix you up, if not you still have time to go shopping.” Dax turns and walks toward the glass door to the house.
Chapter Seven
Decked out in designer slacks and a dark button down shirt, with a pair of Fendi shoes, I glance at my reflection in the glass entry door to Braxton’s. You are about one wicked hot man. If I do say so myself, which I do. Sometimes you have to play your own cheerleader to boost your ego. I brush my hand over the bristly spikes on top of my head, and take another minute to calm my nerves and get into my zone.
Almost everyone has a person in their comfort zone, like mom or dad, a spouse or family to protect, love, make happy, teach, keep safe or warn them of dangers, but not me. I am my own comfort zone, but I don’t mind too much, been doing it since I was about ten years old. When you know how to do it, it’s pretty automatic.
A boxer or fighter has a zone he puts himself into. He’s able to tune out pain, pump more adrenaline into his body, cut off emotions, and focus. All basic skills of survival. Mothers have it with children too. A mom can tune out sounds, like a loud TV, increase their focus on the voices and noises their children make, distinguish warning cries, read body language and sense danger. Hell everyone does it, but not everyone kee
ps it fine-tuned, so it takes them longer.
Going into my street smart’s mode is simple for me. I have two routes to get there. The first route is to be somewhere new which makes it unfamiliar and uncomfortable or take the second route straight to back to when I was a kid, a teenager when you always had to look over your shoulder, never sure who was coming for you. Once your street smarts kick in, your protection and skills of survival increase. Trust, emotions and feelings are something you ditch immediately. They’re all dangerous because they distract you, so assume everyone is out to get or hurt you, until they prove otherwise. Your awareness of surroundings, people and situations are heightened and you’re able read and anticipate people’s moves, like in a chess game.
By watching body language, breathing, studying their eyes, you pretty much know what their next move is. Instincts are the bodies built in warning signs, you feel it in the gut, the nerves, in chills, and the hair standing on end. Never show anyone what you really think or feel, ever.
No one gets the real me with emotions and feelings. It sounds cold, but it’s safer for me that way. I don’t get hurt, it’s the reason I don’t let people get close. They only get what I project out to them, and it gives me the advantage and control of a situation. It’s like being a very good liar, a manipulator at expert level. Become someone else.
Once all of this happens, which takes all of about ten to twenty seconds, I’m in my comfort zone. My confidence is increased a hundred percent and I become one bad mother fucker.
I take one more look at my reflection, adjust my belt, and walk inside Braxton’s Grill and Tavern.
As I glance around the place, I’m a little overwhelmed with what he’s created here. A sign, reading “Braxton’s” is illuminated in gold script letters that angle along the bannister leading to a half level upstairs. There’s so much to take in, but seeing his name on the sign makes me smile, I’m proud of him. He did well for himself, went above and beyond amazing. Impressive.
In the center of the room a long open grill stretches across the back. Off to the right is the open floor dining area, with a small stage set off in the back corner. To the left is a glass doorway that opens to an outside patio area. Bluish lights shine down on water fountains that are scattered through the center garden section.
The upper level is a bar area and that’s right where I’m heading. It’s dim and overlooks the entire place, the perfect place to watch and observe. Plus I need a damn drink right now and quick. As I walk up, seeing the sign up close with Braxton’s name on it makes me laugh. It’s huge. I’m very proud of him.
The bar floor is packed, but I spot a little table next to the railing and up against the wall. Perfect, because I never sit anywhere with my back to people, never have. Guess I never wanted anyone to sneak up behind me and catch me off guard. I sit down and a cute little waiter with blond hair approaches the table.
“WHAAAT…can I get for you?” The guy laughs and puts his hand on his hip, tapping a pen against his cheek.
“Scotch on the rocks.”
“Ugh…bor-ingggggggggg!” He stretches the word out for almost five full seconds. “Try again.”
I laugh at him. “Alright, then tell me what’s good in a place like this?”
“Me! Ahhhhahahaha. I’m just playing. I’ll bring you a scotch on the rocks. Back in a flash.” He turns around and does some kind of galloping thing off to the bar.
Strange. I watch him for about a full minute before he almost exhausts me to the point of needing a Valium. He must have spun around a million times to look at every table on the floor, not to mention, every one of the employee’s too. Linda Blair didn’t have shit on him. It’s a wonder he didn’t just cause permanent damage to his neck and back with all the moves he just pulled off. He reminds me of a lightning strike he moves fast, like a bolt that rips down the bark of a tree, setting off a spark.
I pull out one of my business cards from my wallet, and scratch my cell number on the back of it. As soon as I can get a feel for the place and a few employees, I’ll ask for this Ash guy and see what I can come up with.
The waiter comes back with my drink, sets it on the table. “Why don’t you let me start a tab for you?”
“That’s probably a good idea. Thanks.” I nod at him.
“I’ll check back with you as soon as you’ve finished your drink. Don’t worry, I’ll be watching.”
I have no doubt you will.
He does some sort of Saturday Night Fever dance move over to the next table.
Taking a sip of my drink, I begin scoping out the place, reading the name tags of everyone that passes. The managers wear black pants and a black shirt with tie, way more formal than the normal employees who are wearing black with white shirts, and aprons wrapped at their hips. The manager's focus is mainly at entryway, greeting customers and the first floor dining area. They seem to know the customers well, and approach many of the tables with a handshake and begin talking and laughing with them.
The place has a great atmosphere about it, very calm and laid back, yet friendly and professional. There’s just a good vibe about it, it’s relaxing and people must really love it because there’s a line forming outside the door in no time. Yes, I’m impressed.
When I finish my drink, the waiter arrives right on time and snatches the glass out of my hands.
“Can I get you another?” There he goes, pulling one of his moves with those jerky movements again.
Damn he’s quick, he’s now dubbed Sparky. “Sure, lay it on me.” Please don’t snap any vertebras in half when you do your next move, which I have no doubt is coming very soon.
“What about something to eat for you? We have fabulous appetizers, but if you’d like something a little more filling, for dinner, I’ll sneak downstairs and get you one of our menus. We do that for our regulars.”
“I’m not one of the regular customers.” I crack my neck side to side.
“Shush.” He puts his fingers up to his mouth. “I know, but no one else needs to. I’ll vouch for you.” He winks at me.
Seriously, Sparky, flirting with me? Not even close to my type, sweetie. Let’s face it…as big as I am, I’d have that pretty little ass of yours in shreds in a matter of minutes. I might be a little on the rough side of things, but I’m not a sadist and would never take something to the point of destroying it. Alright, this guy is making me twitchy, it’s time to turn it up a notch. I need to know who Ash is and Sparks here is going to tell me, he just doesn’t know it yet. Game face on.
“You could do that for me, well aren’t you a sweetie? How long have you been working here?” I smile at him, raising an eyebrow in question, like I really give a flying fuck.
“Over a year now.” Sparky stands up straight, all tall and proud grinning ear to ear.
“Get out, seriously? Nice, I bet you know all the ins and outs around the place. Hell, I bet you could probably take over and run the place for your boss, huh?”
He shakes his head up and down so fast, a nosebleed should be coming any second now, and I’m ready to bolt when it does. There is no way he didn’t jar something loose inside there.
“Almost can run the place. The boss man says when I make it to two years, then he’ll make me a floor supervisor. He said I have great potential and excellent customer interaction skills. Between us though, I think the real reason he likes me so much is because I’m able to multi-task so many responsibilities all at the same time when none of the others can. I have a lot of energy and can keep up like that.”
“It sounds like he really likes you. I know that I’m impressed with what I’ve seen so far from you. You’ve definitely got some skills, sweets.” I lick the top corner of my lip, and watch him.
He focuses on my mouth and tongue and his jaw drops open.
Way too easy.
“You made an excellent first impression and I’m a business man, so I spot professionals a mile away. You are definitely supervisor material, it’s sort of like a natural born lead
er and you nail it. Mark my words, you’ll be the boss’s right hand man in no time at all. Watch and see.” I point my finger at him.
“Really, do you really think so? That would so rad, bestest thing ever, but he’s already got someone right under him with the job.” He ducks his head down, like he just lost his best friend. “I don’t think Ash will ever quit this job, he loves it here.”
It’s the first time he’s not practically jumping out of his skin, he’s thinking. “Of course I mean it. I have no reason to lie to you, do I? You’re a cool dude so I’ll do something for you.” I crook my finger, winding him in closer, like it’s a big secret, and he leans down. “Okay, normally people pay me some big bucks for this. I have this way of reading people, picking up on thing that normal people don’t see. Like I told you, I can spot things in people by watching their body language and eyes. If you point to this Ash guy, I’ll give you my professional opinion on what I see from him. If he’s got that leader thing, like you do, or not, but only if you promise not to tell. I sure don’t need your boss kicking me out, I kind of like it here.”
“Oh my God, yes, yes. And I would never tell a soul, just our little secret.” He crosses his finger across his chest, making an X mark. “Promise, but I can’t because he’s off tonight. He called in earlier and said he caught a bug or something. He did say he’d be here tomorrow afternoon.” He rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing for you to be sorry about, it’s not your fault. I’ll let you in on a little clue though. Real supervisors never ever call in or stand the workers up on the busiest night of the week, unless they’re practically on their deathbeds. Professionals don’t do that to their co-workers or their boss, it’s a big no-no.”
