Page 26 of Mace

“Why the hell not?” he growled.

“Have you ever heard the saying that you shouldn’t shit where you eat?” she asked.

Chains shrugged, “Sure,” he said.

“Well, I have to work here, and if I went out with one of the guys from the club, and it ended badly, it would feel weird to keep working here,” she explained.

“Wow, we haven’t even been on our first date yet, and you already have us breaking up,” Chains drawled.

“We aren’t going out on a first date, so you won’t have to worry about us breaking up,” Sprite insisted. “Listen, it was nice meeting you, Chains, but I have thirsty customers at the other end of the bar. Excuse me.” She turned her back on him and could feel his eyes on her as she made her way to the other end of the bar. She didn’t bother looking back—that would only give him false hope, and she couldn’t do that.

Savage’s husband, Bowie, asked her for a beer and looked her over as she handed it to him. “Did Chains say something to upset you, Sprite?” Bowie and Savage were great to work for. Savage was the Royal Bastards Prez and Bowie was the VP. They worked with her day job’s schedule and Bowie even covered for her when she had to work late and couldn’t get to the bar in time for her shift. They were the big brothers she never had but always wanted. If she told Bowie that Chains was bothering her, he’d kick the poor guy out on his ass. She didn’t want that; and besides, she could take care of herself.

“No, he was just making conversation,” she said. “I mean, he asked me for my number, but I told him that I don’t date the guys in the club. He seemed to accept that.”

“Well, someone needs to tell his face that. He’s been mean-mugging me the whole time we’ve been talking. Plus, he can’t seem to take his eyes off you,” Bowie said.

“That’s ridiculous,” she said, grabbing another member a beer and sliding it over the bar to him. “Doesn’t he know that you and Savage are married?”

“Sure,” Bowie said, “but, that’s not stopping him from looking at me as though he wants to strangle me. Are you sure that you don’t want me to talk with him? You know, make sure that he’s taking no for an answer.” Bowie was so sweet to offer, even though she’d never call him sweet to his face. Calling a biker “Sweet” usually pissed them off and she didn’t need to fuck up her tips.

“I’m sure,” Sprite insisted. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know that you can,” Bowie assured, “but, it’s okay to have some backup sometimes.”

Sprite covered his hand with her own, “Thanks for offering to be my backup, Bowie, but honestly, I’m good.”

“If you change your mind, just let me know. I’m always available to kick some ass if needed,” he promised.

“I know, and I appreciate that,” Sprite said. She turned around to find Chains sitting just a few stools away, still staring her down. He had moved closer and a part of her found his attention flattering. It had been a damn long time since any man paid as much attention to her, not that she was about to change her rules for the guy.

“Would you like another beer?” she asked Chains.

“Sure,” he said, “I guess it would be a moot point to ask you for your phone number again.” Sprite had to hand it to the guy, he was nothing if not persistent.

“You would be correct,” she said. “It’s nothing personal, Chains. If you were a member at any other club, I’d be happy to give you my number, but I have rules in place for my own peace of mind.”

“Understood,” he said. She slid the beer across the bar to him and Chains stood from the barstool. “Have a good night, Sprite,” he said.

“You too,” she shouted back to him over the music as he walked away. Sprite wasn’t sure if he had heard her or not, but what did it matter? She was going to leave the bar tonight alone, just as she did every night. Going back to her mom’s place wasn’t something that she ever looked forward to, and telling Chains yes, and going home with him for the night would be so much easier for her. But in the long run, she was sure that it would be a huge mistake—one that would cost her a job and the dream of finally getting out of her mother’s house and away from her mom’s scummy boyfriend.

Sprite got home late from the bar and hurried into the house from her pickup truck. She hated getting home this late. It was scary in the trailer park, and she knew that creeps were out just waiting to get into trouble.

Her mom’s trailer was dark, and she breathed a sigh of relief that she was going to get to shower and go to bed without having to deal with her mother’s scummy boyfriend.

She used her key to let herself in and found Jake sitting on the sofa in the dark. He was smoking a cigarette and every time he took a drag off it, she could see his face. He was drunk—she could smell it on him from across the room. Jake was a mean drunk and all Sprite wanted to do was slip past him and into her room, but it was too late for that.

“You’re home late,” he slurred.

“Yeah, the bar was busy tonight. Where is Mom?” she asked. Her mother was usually a buffer between the two of them.

“She went to bed hours ago,” he said.

“I see, well, I’m tired and need a shower. I’ll see you in the morning, Jake,” she said, trying to drop the hint that she didn’t want to stand around and chat with him.

“How about I join you?” Jake said, standing from the sofa. He swayed a bit and she wondered how he stood up at all.

“In the shower?” she asked.

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