Torched Page 7

  So much for that whole gang angle Mitch had tried to convince me of. They didn’t sound like the gangbangers I was used to.

  They didn’t go out of their way to start shit, but if you fucked with one brother—or sister, in the case of old ladies—you fucked with them all.

  Over post-shift drinks, Snoop would detail the roles of women, specifically old ladies and club whores, which in reality wasn’t all that different from my old world. I guess I could have been considered the whore of Mitch and Vince’s club, though not a willing one. From what Snoop described, old ladies were respected in most clubs, and not all of their men were cheating bastards. A lot of them were though, no question.

  But what particularly struck a chord with me was the way clubs considered themselves a family. Despite the whole officers and voting thing, no one was above anybody else. If one was in trouble, everybody else was expected to pitch in and help. For clubs that had more than one chapter, the same applied across all of them. A member from Reno could stop by their Sacramento chapter and have a place to sleep. And an entire group of loyal men at his back.

  The whole concept was so fucking foreign to me, I couldn’t even really digest it. Mitch and Vince had a lot of business partners, but they’d still had to watch for knives coming at their backs.

  I ate up Snoop’s stories and knowledge, almost as hungrily as I gorged on his food. Surprisingly, he did a lot of the cooking in the bar, along with a grumpy chef named Felix, and made a mean burger. Since starting, I’d probably eaten a whole cow worth of his patties and steaks, they were that good. It hadn’t taken long for my appetite to come back, the only downside being that I could barely squeeze my newfound curves into the teeny-tiny outfits Lexi had sent me off with.

  True to his word, Snoopy didn’t let any of the drunks screw with me. He made sure I always had an escort whenever I went between the bar and his apartment. Even going out for some fresh air required a babysitter. I couldn’t complain though, I felt safer than I had in years. And honestly, the customers weren’t that bad. They were mostly harmless and padded my pockets in exchange for some light flirting.

  I’d made enough in tips after my first week of shifts that I could have gone shopping for a whole new wardrobe. But I wanted to save every penny, and frankly, the male clientele seemed to appreciate skimpy clothes.

  The slutty groupies, not so much, but who gave a shit about them? I didn’t know what the average cocktail waitress made, the only tipping I’d been exposed to was at strip clubs, but I was regularly pulling in over fifty percent and working every single day.

  Between the way Snoop’s customers guzzled liquor and the summer uptick in business, I’d managed to pull in almost ten grand. More than enough to get settled somewhere. My injuries were long healed and I was feeling great—strong and ready to take on the world—so it was almost time to go. If I could’ve stayed forever I would have, but alas, danger still lurked and I couldn’t expect to be provided with bodyguards indefinitely.

  Snoop had finally found some more help in one of the girls who regularly bedded customers, but who also didn’t drink much, so he’d agreed that I could take off whenever I wanted. I hadn’t given him notice, but had decided to work this one last weekend and be on my way.

  With it being a Friday night, the place was packed. Every room was booked and the bar had been bustling since noon. There was a good mix of people, and thankfully the standard biker and trucker fare were happily coexisting with wayward retirees. Weekends tended to get pretty rowdy, so I was just hoping that everyone would behave themselves until closing time.

  Jenny—the girl Snoop had hired—was working her fourth shift and finally starting to get the hang of things without having to come to me for help every two minutes. She was growing on me. With the exception of being willing to drop her pants for any bad boy looking to get laid, she was a sweet girl. Unlike some of the other regulars, Jenny didn’t give me any shit. Torch’s skank, Lacey, still showed up and did her best to get under my skin, in a pathetic kind of way. It really didn’t bother me though. She was already there on this particular Friday, jumping from one lap to another, but luckily Jenny was running drinks while I stayed segregated behind the bar making them.

  Snoop’s clientele weren’t into fruity crap or complicated concoctions, so I’d slipped into the bartender role easily. It didn’t take a genius to pour a beer or straight whiskey on the rocks. The girls kept it simple too—vodka and cranberry, wine, that kind of shit. The most challenging part was turning down free shots. It seemed like every horny customer figured that buying me one would give them a chance. I didn’t know whether to be flattered or offended.

  Snoop didn’t care if I drank on the job but I didn’t want to get sloppy, so I always limited myself to two or three drinks on any given night. But I didn’t want to piss off anyone who offered to buy me one, so I had a special vodka bottle filled with water that I would pour my shots from. They were none the wiser. Of course, I still charged them for an actual serving of booze, which delighted my boss to no end.

  “Four shots of tequila for table nine,” I yelled to Jenny over the music, sliding shot glasses across the bar.

  “Thanks, love,” she winked at me. “You look really hot tonight.”

  Yeah, definitely growing on me. “Ditto, lady,” I replied. “Now get out there and keep the orders coming. You and me are gonna make some serious cash tonight.”

  Jenny giggled and sauntered away, hips swaying. If I were a lesbian, I totally would’ve hit that. The girl had game. She’d be just fine after I left.

  “Hey, sugar,” Billy cooed as he pulled up a seat in front of me. “Let me get a Bud.” Billy was another regular, a fifty-something truck driver who frequently came through Ohio.

  “Coming right up. Long drive ahead?”

  “Nah, Kansas City this time. Shouldn’t be too bad. I couldn’t go without stopping by and seeing my favorite girl though.”

  I gave him a smile while pouring. “Glad you did, honey. I missed your face.”

  He turned bright red.

  It should be noted that lying and ass kissing was an important part of the hospitality industry. Even if you were talking to a greasy man with tobacco-stained teeth—like Billy—your priority was looking past that and saying whatever gave them an ego boost. Billy wasn’t stupid, he knew he didn’t have a shot, but he ate it up. I could expect at least a forty dollar tip whenever he came in. For that, I could definitely lay on some serious charm.

  “Jenny!” Felix hollered from the kitchen window. “Get these goddamn burgers out!”

  I looked around and saw that my girl was busy making rounds, so I grabbed the food. “You need a hug, old man? Chill the fuck out.”

  He scowled at me like he was pissed, but I knew better. He liked getting called out on his shit, especially by me it seemed. Snoop said it was because I reminded Felix of his dead wife. A ball-busting, dark-haired singer named Lola.

  My theory was that he was just a grumpy fuck who liked to bicker back and forth. And the more he bitched, the more I talked back.

  It worked for us.

  I dropped off the burgers and grabbed as many empty glasses as I could on the way back. Jenny was already waiting with a dozen more drink orders, and looking around, I noticed a few at the bar needed refills too. Just like that, in the weeds, but I loved it. The nights went by a lot faster when we got slammed, and the customers were generally pretty cool about it. I hadn’t gotten any complaints yet.

  I got the customers at the bar first since they were all just drinking beer, then started on Jenny’s orders. “How’s the vibe out there?” I asked.

  She knew I wasn’t talking about the actual vibe, but the patrons. We’d come up with code phrases so she could let me know when someone was getting too rowdy and making her uncomfortable. Despite only being there for a few weeks, I had no problems taking those tables from her. I wanted to believe that it was all me, that I was a bit of a badass myself, but more likely word had just gotten
around that whoever fucked with me would face the wrath of Snoop.

  “Pretty good. Table six needs some ice,” she said.

  Needing ice meant that someone was getting a little too heated, belligerent, or touchy, and that I should keep an eye out. If I needed to get involved, Jenny would tell me that the table was sticky and needed to be wiped down. I would go do exactly that and then take over. In a bar full of mostly men, we had to talk like that to avoid one of them overhearing and trying to get all chivalrous. That just led to testosterone-fueled brawls, which none of us needed.

  I glanced over her shoulder and saw three young, yuppie-looking guys sitting around table six. I’d seen them come in a couple hours earlier. They’d just ordered their first round of shots, but had been chugging beer like champs, so they had to have had a pretty good buzz going by now.

  I winked at Jenny and poured the rest of her orders.

  Snoop came up to the bar and put an arm around her. “You need some help getting these out?”

  “That would be great, thanks,” she replied cheerfully.

  “You good, sweetheart?” he asked me.

  “I’m peachy. Seems like a good crowd tonight.”

  “Yeah, maybe one of them will get you on that mic again,” he said mischievously.

  During my first week at the Barrel, I’d had way too many drinks one night and got talked into going on stage and singing. Turned out I had a decent voice, but the whole experience was nerve-wracking. It was just fucking uncomfortable having all that attention on me at once. That was when I had decided to limit myself to three drinks or less.

  “Not a chance, Snoop,” I groaned.

  “Never say never, baby girl.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Learned my lesson already. Just get these out,” I said, pointing at the twenty or so glasses of beer and liquor.

  They both took a tray and loaded up, while I walked over to the other end of the bar to serve a new customer.

  : : : :

  Three hours later, the place was packed to the rafters. The kitchen was slowing down, so Snoop pulled Felix’s helpers to bus tables. Jenny and I had taken at least a dozen fake shots and I was popping aspirin like candy to keep my head from pounding. We had a live cover band playing, they were more than happy to let the drunks come on stage and make fools of themselves.

  Members of three different motorcycle clubs had shown up, thankfully none of them 1%ers who had beef. They’d greeted each other with polite nods, but were keeping their distance.

  Jenny rushed up to me with a whole new stack of orders. “Table six is definitely sticky now,” she said, pleading with her eyes.

  “Okay, I got it. Let me get these orders and I’ll switch you places.”

  “Can we get Snoop over here? I haven’t been behind the bar yet.

  “Honey, I’m not gonna be here much longer. No better time to learn. You’ve seen me pour beers. Just eye the liquor. It’s not that complicated.”

  She looked terrified.

  “Just yell at me or Snoop if you get stuck,” I offered. “I promise you can do it. Take your time, everybody’s too wasted and busy being stupid to notice you being nervous.”

  “Okay,” she mumbled and skirted around the bar. I showed her of the general measurements and loaded up a tray.

  I made my rounds around the room, leaving table six for last. As I dropped off drinks, I got the usual cat calls and whistles, which honestly made me feel pretty damn good, and like a total failure of a feminist at the same time.

  Pete, a regular and weekend warrior at table twelve got on his knee and started blabbering as I came by. “Marry me, Livia!”

  “You couldn’t handle my ass, Petey,” I flirted, for no other reason than a hefty tip.

  “Oh, I could handle that sweet ass of yours all night,” he crooned.

  He looked like a lost puppy. I kissed the top of his head, just to give him a little something to dream about. “Sorry, sweetie. No diamond, no wedding. I’m old school like that.”

  He pulled himself back up on a chair and grinned like an idiot. “I’ll be back next week with a ring. You can’t take it back now!”

  Shit. You never knew with these guys, they were serious half the time. Yup, this was definitely going to be my last weekend in Ohio. I gave him a patronizing pat on the head and walked away.

  After refreshing a few more tables, I finally managed to wrangle my way through the crowd and made it to table six. The three original guys had been joined by two more, all of them clearly beyond gone. Hopefully, controlling the situation would just be a matter of slowing down their drinking. I’d watered down their gin and brought along five sodas.

  “Hey, gentlemen,” I called out over the noise. “I’ve got your drinks. Brought some sodas too.”

  Everyone at the table looked me up and down, totally eye-fucking me in a pervy and not-at-all-flattering way. They weren’t bad looking, definitely a younger set than the rest of the customers, but I was immediately uncomfortable and felt bad that Jenny hadn’t pawned them off earlier. It was the most anxious I’d felt while slinging drinks. There was just something off about all of them.

  “Hey there, hot stuff,” one of them fawned. “Where you been hiding those tits all night?”

  Another guy reached his grabby hand under the hem of my skirt. I dodged it and shot back, “Behind the bar, where there’s a no-touching policy.”

  “Oh come on, sexy,” a third jackass piped up, “we see how you little sluts around here operate. Don’t get all frosty.”

  “You have me confused with somebody else,” I snarled, “I have no problems getting frosty and I sure as shit don’t have a problem getting your dumb asses kicked out if you don’t back off.”

  I unloaded the last of their drinks on the table, unfortunately having to lean over another one of them to do so. He grabbed my waist and tugged me down into his lap. My eyes darted around, looking around for Snoop or a bouncer, but not a single soul was looking in my direction. Even Jenny, who’d been monitoring the situation, was busy with a guest.

  Fuck it, sometimes the customer was wrong.

  I threw my arm back and elbowed the asshole’s face. His head bobbed, blood pouring from his nose and eyes looking murderous.

  Before I had a chance to brace for him to toss me to the ground, I felt myself being pulled up and away. A beefy pair of arms set me down, but I was so disoriented and struggling to maintain my balance that I couldn’t focus on who they belonged to.

  Until he let me go. It was then that I saw the back of a man’s head. And an Iron Serpents cut.

  Torch. Shit.

  He didn’t even look at me before throwing a sucker punch. The guy went down as his chair tipped back from the force of the blow. The others at the table jumped to their feet.

  “You get off on forcing yourself on women, motherfucker?” Torch roared.

  Motherfucker looked like he was about to cry. “No,” he barely choked out.

  “What? I didn’t fucking hear you, dumbass. Answer me.”

  Snoop finally appeared. “Torch!”

  “Yeah,” he seethed through his teeth.

  “What the hell’s going on, buddy?”

  “This piece of shit grabbed Liv.”

  Everyone else around us had moved back, making no attempt to intervene.

  “Oh, fuck no,” Snoop grumbled. If I thought he’d be a calming voice of reason, I would’ve been wrong. He looked just as pissed as Torch. Still, it was his business and I hoped that he wouldn’t let the situation turn into a boxing match. After everything he’d done for me, I didn’t want to be responsible for bringing him any problems.

  “We’ve got your back, man,” I heard another husky voice behind me. Looking back, I saw that every patched biker in the bar had lined up behind me. Not a single one of them was a member of Serpents, but it looked like they were about to put aside any differences for a good cause.

  Goddamn chivalry. This was exactly why Jenny and I talked in code.

  T
orch looked up, just as surprised as I was to see them all standing there. He focused on me, his face flushed in anger. “You good?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  He turned his attention back down to the floor and roughly pulled the grabber up to his feet.

  Trying to diffuse the situation, I walked up to Torch and put my hand on his arm. “Torch, really, I’m fine. Please don’t do this in Snoop’s place.”

  He looked at me and combed his fingers through my hair.

  “Did you hear me?” I asked.

  He ignored the question. “Any of them hurt you before I saw what I saw?”

  “No,” I assured him. Finally, his face softened a little.

  “She’s right, man” Snoop chimed in. “As much as I wanna fuck these dickheads up myself, I’d rather not start breaking shit and have the pigs show up. They paid for rooms, let ‘em sleep it off and we’ll herd ‘em out first thing. ”

  Torch looked behind us at the other bikers standing guard. “Fine, but I want them out. Right fucking now.”

  They all swarmed and took out the trash.

  : : : :

  The rest of the night went a lot smoother. Jenny was getting the hang of things, so I mostly ran drinks, going every which way to avoid talking to Torch. It hadn’t been easy, he’d perched himself at the end of the bar and watched my every move.

  It rattled me, in more ways than one.

  I’d never had a man get bloody knuckles for me before. Despite being so adamant about him minding his own business the day we’d met, I had to admit that the whole thing was pretty fucking hot.