Page 2 of Whiskey

Whiskey waded in. “Well, we don’t allow any type of unwanted touching, no matter how appreciative you are. You’re banned from the bar. Get up and Hennessy will escort you out.”

“I’m not fuckin’ leaving. I’m going to teach these bitches a lesson.” He punctuated his sentence by grabbing Beth’s hair and pulling her closer. “You hear me, bitch?”

Whiskey leaned back and waited because if the dumbass wanted a beating, the women were going to oblige him. Beth would never have let him grab her hair unless she wanted him to pull her closer. He was really glad that Crewe had pushed for the sealed cement floors when they’d redone the bar. Cleaning up blood and other bodily fluids was so much easier now. Though he hoped the fluids didn’t splash because the booth seats were still fabric. Some type of non-cloth fabric was on his list of upgrades someday.

“I hear you.” Beth kneed the guy in the nuts and Whiskey winced. The asshole deserved it, but man, that had to hurt. When he bent over, she slammed his face into her knee. Ouch! That was going to leave a mark he thought as he heard the crunch of bone. He knew this guy wouldn’t be pressing charges. They had cameras in the bar, and he’d already been asked to leave.

The other men started to stand. “Nope, unless you all want me to let these women kick your asses, I suggest you all take your friend and leave. You make sure your friend doesn’t go complaining to the police. I recognize you all. You don’t want a visit from my family.” Whiskey motioned around at the men who’d joined him, his younger brother Schaefer, along with three more of his cousins, Halligan, Gaines, and McClure. They were all over six foot and had perfected the menacing stare. Having their own place to work out helped and they all stayed in shape. Halligan, Gaines, and McClure had their arms crossed, quietly waiting to be needed. Heck, Halligan by himself should scare the guys because his arms were as thick as tree trunks.

Crewe had probably sent a text when he saw it going south. “And you especially don’t want me letting the Bluff Creek Brotherhood MC know that you all disrespected their family.”

He held back a laugh at the wet spot forming on the guy’s pants. The guy was a bully until he realized he didn’t have the biggest balls in the room. Heck, Beth obviously had him beat in that area. He jerked his thumb toward the door. “Go.”

Crewe, along with Halligan and Schaefer, escorted the men out and Hennessy was over high-fiving the women. McClure had headed toward the bar to grab drinks for the women and change the sign back to zero. His brothers and cousins had it all under control.

He glanced at his watch. Whiskey was dropping his motorcycle off at the Bluff Creek Brotherhood MC garage tonight. Hennessy was driving a truck and following behind Whiskey. They had a visiting brother who was doing custom gas tanks and Whiskey had snagged a spot. He wasn’t happy giving up his motorcycle for a week because he rode almost every day as long as the weather allowed.

He waved goodbye to Crewe and walked over to drag Hennessy away from the women.

“Ladies, we’re out of here. As always, it’s an adventure with all of you.”

“Bye. Thanks for letting us deal with them. I was getting a little bored.” Beth dusted her fingers against her shoulder, emphasizing her words.

Hennessy turned to go. “Oh c’mon. We’re here and you’re not going to say it to us?” Stella whined.

“Good night, beautiful. May your dreams be as sweet as you are.”

Giggles and groans accompanied Hennessy’s deep voice. Hennessy had such an easy way with the women that sometimes Whiskey was a tad jealous. Hennessy’s wishing women good morning and good night had become a thing at the bar. Women dropped in when they were having bad days just to hear him say it. Hennessy even had one woman that called the bar when her shift at the hospital didn’t go well. He’d wish her good night before she went to sleep.

Whiskey waved as he and Hennessy went out the door. Any trouble that happened was now someone else’s responsibility. He grabbed his helmet and straddled his bike, slipping his helmet on while waiting for Hennessy to walk to his truck. Once Hennessy had it started, Whiskey waved and pulled out.

He enjoyed being one with the road. No sounds unless he listened to music. He could be alone with his thoughts. Tonight he wanted quiet. He wanted, no, craved more than his dad and uncles had. Sure, they had successful businesses and sons, but they didn’t have that woman who set their heart on fire.

Seeing the amazing women from Bluff Creek had him wishing for what he didn’t have. Wouldn’t life be easier if he could find a good woman? But like that was going to happen, and he only had himself to blame.

He was the one whose feelings had been hurt by a woman and had proposed the stupid freaking game after they’d all had too much to drink. Nelson’s Dating Roulette was the stupidest thing he’d ever come up with and he regretted opening his mouth every freaking day. But every time he brought up maybe it was time to stop the game, his cousins and brothers called him a quitter, big baby, and chicken until he gave in. He might be forty-three, but peer pressure was alive and well in the Nelson family.

Heck, he was in last place because he had only gone on two dates. Having his family spin a wheel to find out what type of woman you have to date next and then finding said woman was more trouble than it was worth. And some of the crazy examples Hennessy had added made it even harder. Where the hell was he supposed to find a woman who performed in the circus or knew historical battles? Yeah, like that comes up in casual conversations.

He’d become increasingly dissatisfied with just dating. Watching some of his friends find the women who completed them had him jealous. Heck, even his grumpy friend Bear, who was the VP of the MC, had found someone who made him smile. In the back of his mind, he always wondered if his family was cursed with regard to women. His dad, along with his two brothers, each had three sons by three different women. Nine women and none of them had stayed together or married. Not that Whiskey considered himself much of a prize.

At forty-three, he was set in his ways. He managed the bar with the help of his brother Hennessy as assistant manager and his cousin Crewe, who managed the kitchen. They all three lived in the large apartment they’d all grown up in above the bar. He worked, he read, which was one of his favorite pastimes whether it was non-fiction war novels or fiction thrillers, rode his motorcycle, and he enjoyed hunting deer and pheasant. He also enjoyed his family’s football games. They became a little rough because everyone wanted to win, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The only women he met came to the bar, or he’d grown up with them. Over the years, no one had given him the illusive feeling of needing her for the rest of his life. He hoped it wasn’t too late for him because he wanted someone to grow old with. His dad and uncles seemed happy with their lives, but they still went home alone most nights.

Whiskey loved his family and wouldn’t change having his brothers and cousins so close, but he wanted more. He just wasn’t sure how to find it and if he would recognize it when it happened.

Whiskey hadn’t believed in someone meant especially for him, but as his friends had found their women, his attitude had changed. He also wanted kids. Growing up with his brothers and cousins made him long for his own family. They’d all gotten in scrapes over the years, but he wouldn’t change a thing. Well, maybe he’d change when Dillon had knocked the bees’ nest down on all of them, but otherwise, he’d had a great life.

Spending time with the Bluff Creek Brotherhood MC had given him insight into young kids, and he loved what he’d seen. He imagined teaching them sports and helping them find where their passions led. His dad and uncles hadn’t ever forced them to take over the businesses. They’d exposed each of the boys to different aspects and let them choose where they wanted to be.

Whiskey enjoyed running the bar and providing a place where people could unwind. He excelled at making people feel at home. He was good at building rapport. He, Hennessy, and Crewe all worked well together. Dillon, Quinton, and McClure ran the trucking company and the rental properties. Halligan and Gaines ran anything to do with their oil properties. Schaefer enjoyed working alone, so he ran security for all their businesses. He’d rather deal with his computers than an actual person. Whiskey appreciated his family allowing them to choose their own path.

Whiskey kept an eye on the fields as he passed them. Growing up in Kansas near the country, he’d damaged more than one vehicle by hitting a deer. He’d also lost a windshield when a flock of pheasants had flown across a highway he was driving on. Whiskey crested the hill and spotted what appeared to be headlights off in the ditch. He raised his hand, signaling Hennessy he was pulling over. He pulled over onto the edge but made sure his bike was firmly on the asphalt still. He didn’t relish picking up his bike after it tipped over if he tried to balance it on the soft shoulder. Hennessy pulled behind him and got out. Whiskey noticed the deer who’d most likely caused the accident hadn’t made it through the encounter unscathed either.

Whiskey walked carefully but quickly down the ditch because the headlights belonged to a crashed sedan. He headed toward the driver’s side while Hennessy went to the passenger side.

His first glimpse inside the vehicle had him pulling his phone out. “Just a second, ma’am, and I’ll get EMS out here.”

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