Page 1 of Accidental Abduction

Hudson

The sound of glassshattering on the concrete floors drew my attention to the back corner of the bar. Loud voices could be heard over the music playing, and I blew out a heavy breath before placing the Pilsner glass in my hand next to the bar sink.

Fuck.

It was one of those nights. College towns were fucking chaos during the fall semester, and while my regular clientele was a little rougher around the edges, those drunken frat boys who wanted toslum itcouldn’t fucking help themselves.

Before I could hoist myself over the bar, the crowd of drunken twenty-somethings parted, and a flash of purple hair caught my attention.

My little sister’s best friend had what looked to be afrat bro—in a pink polo shirt no less—in a headlock and was holding two fingers on his right hand in a very precarious manner. One wrong move and he’d be jerking off with his left for the foreseeable future. If she left him with anything to jerk off.

One of the bouncers followed behind her, shaking his head as she marched the jackass toward the door. Charley was fucking crazy, so if that guy touched her, he was lucky his balls were still intact and not crammed down his throat.

When she’d first asked me for a job while she was finishing grad school, I’d been hesitant, but she handled being a waitress in a crowded dive bar like a pro. She didn’t let patrons get away with anything shady and brought in enough tips to keep paying herrent. Which took the pressure off me since she lived with my sister in the apartment above the bar.

“Need help?” I shouted, cupping my hand next to my mouth so Mikey could hear me.

“I think she’s got it under control,” he yelled back with a laugh, gesturing in front of him while Charley marchedMr. Grabby Handstoward the exit. Her leg shot out in front of her, kicking the door to the bar wide open as she shouted at the people loitering outside.

“Move, you fuckers. I’m trying to take out the trash.”

Mikey took over from there, grabbing the guy by the back of his shirt and disappearing into the parking lot. Chances were, he’d confiscate the douche bag’s keys and order him an Uber courtesy of the bar, but I was glad he was out of my establishment.

People came here to have a good time, and I wouldn’t let some punk ass kids come in and start shit. Which made me sound about 90 years old, but I’d left my trouble making days behind when I’d become a business owner at 26.

If my dad’s goal when he signed the bar over four years ago had been for me to take my future seriously, it’d worked.

Charley came back in, wiping her hands on her short denim skirt, smirking at me as she slipped under the overhang of the bar. She was all of five foot five, but the girl had a black belt in Taekwondo, and could put you in the hospital if you fucked with her. I’d learned years agonotto fuck with her.

Hazel would also give me an enormous amount of shit if I messed with her best friend. Charley was practically joined at the hip with my little sister and had been a thorn in my side since she was ten years old.

“What’s up, bossman?” She reached under the bar for a shot glass, slamming it down on the counter before she grabbed a bottle of peach vodka. I watched, crossing my arms over my chest as she poured herself a shot. She winked at me before she threw it back and I tried not to let her get to me.

“What have I told you about drinking on the clock?”

She shrugged, reaching for the bottle again, but I pulled it away, blocking her with my body as she tried to get it back. “Oh, come on, I earned that.”

“You earned the first one. You’re done.” There was no way I was sending her back out there with any more alcohol in her system. The reason she was so good at her job was because she was quick to react, so thingsdidn’tescalate. “Or you’re back here with me the rest of the night.”

She narrowed her eyes, and I was gearing up for her to give me shit, but she just huffed and glared at me. “The tips back here suck.”

“Not my problem. You get drunk on my watch, I’ve gotta babysit you. And I don’t have the time or the patience for that. If you weren’t aware, you’re a bit of a handful.”

“Two shots won’t get me drunk. You’re such a buzzkill sometimes.” I knew it wouldn’t, but I also didn’t need her stuck behind the bar with me. Every time she bartended; we’d end up slammed at the counter. I wasn’t naïve enough to think it was because of my charming personality. Charley’s short skirts lured them all in and I’d spend the night trying to keep up with the drooling masses competing for her attention.

My girlfriend, Vivienne, hadn’t understood why I gave Hazel and Charley jobs, thinking my sister and her friend were being freeloaders. She didn’t care that both of them had more than earned their places on the rotation, and business was typically higher when the two of them worked together.

It also pissed off Viv when I worked too closely with Charley. The two of them had a striking resemblance to each other, and any casual glance was construed as me being attracted to my little sister’s best friend. Since I’d never thought of Charley in the same way I did about Viv, I hadn’t understood why she got all bent out of shape over it, but I tried to keep my distance to keep the peace.

Hazel floated between the back of house and the bar, making sure the food service was running smoothly. While our dad had officially turned the bar over to me, he wanted her to always have a soft place to land. She was currently taking some online illustrationcourses, so I knew she used her tips to supplement her expenses until her illustration commissions picked up.

“Hey, sexy bartender,” a high-pitched feminine voice called from the end of the bar, and I watched as Charley rolled her eyes. Before Vivienne noticed her, she spun on her heel and hoisted herself onto the bar, sliding off the far side without giving the guys at the closest table too much of a show. They kept their eyes on their drinks when they saw the glare I had aimed at them. As soon as I saw she was safely back on the floor, I returned my attention to the woman trying to get my attention.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” I asked, bracing my forearms on the worn wood. The petite platinum blonde pushed herself forward and laid a kiss on my cheek before she settled back on her stool.

“When can you get out of here?” I watched as she idly twirled a curl around her index finger. Viv was only two years younger than me at twenty-eight, but sometimes she acted—and dressed—like she was younger than my twenty-four-year-old sister. Which was fine when we’d met four years ago, but at just over thirty, I wasn’t trying to relive my glory days.

Her skin-tight cropped tank top hugged her generous curves. Curves that had been what attracted me to her in the first place, and that continued to attract attention from my patrons. She had never acted on it when men hit on her, but I could tell she enjoyed the attention. Trailing my eyes down her body, I could see a sliver of the toned, artificially tanned skin of her stomach leading into a pair of tight jean shorts. It was a stark contrast to what she wore during the week, her closet full of tailored blouses and pencil skirts and sky-high heels. She may have dressed the part of the party girl on the weekends, but I knew the polished persona she cultivated at the office was who she really was.

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