Page 24 of Ruthless

Chapter 10

Ginger

Present

I was behind the bar helping Stevie out, so freaking thankful that it was the last day of Bike Week. Even though it would take a few days before the visiting bikers were all gone from town, the rush, hassle, and constant running would slow down considerably once the festivities were over. On a normal day we were busy, but it was nothing like the intensity and the crazy atmosphere that we had survived in the last five days. Della had remained home, as ordered. Vinny hadn't liked it, but he'd just have to get over it. Sometimes the man could be so insensitive!

I was wiping down the bar while Stevie was preparing an order for me, trying, but failing, to ignore Rebel where he sat in the corner. The man was too sexy for his own good, and I'd watched him shoot down several attempts from women who'd offered to keep him company. He was in a dark corner booth, almost invisible in the shadows, nursing a glass of whiskey in his strong, capable hands. I knew that he was watching me. I could feel his burning stare follow me wherever I went, and it was unnerving. I knew why he was hanging around--he was worried about his money, but we needed to have a talk to figure out some kind of payment plan. Surely he knew that it was going to take me some time to come up with the full amount.

I couldn’t help but feel that there was more to Rebel’s sudden reappearance in my life than he was letting on, but I pushed aside the suspicious thought that this went deeper than any debt that I owed him. I'd never forgotten him. How could I, when he'd taken my virginity? It was more than that, though. He hadn't just plowed through it and fucked me as if I'd been a whore, leaving me traumatized and torn up, which he could have done. No, he'd been patient and almost caring, and that coupled with the way he had helped me escape, he had turned a hopeless, frightening situation into a memory that I could live with.

I'd fallen half in love with him during those brief days.

"Here, honey."

I smiled, taking the full tray that Stevie held out to me. The bar had only been open for a couple of hours and was already bustling. Stevie hadn't stopped pouring drinks and Vinny was helping George in the kitchen, making up sandwiches and wings. Vinny may have liked to complain about having to help, but he couldn't complain about how good business had been all week. We'd all benefited in a big way. I'd be able to pay Rebel back another thousand, bringing what I truly owed him down to a grand.

I went to the table to drop off my order. Two tables had been pushed together, and I saw the cuts of two different biker clubs on the men who were sitting together. They were rowdy but friendly, and their women appeared to be a little classier than some of the others that I'd seen. I thought to myself that they must be old ladies and not the club groupies who usually clung to the bikers like blood-sucking leeches. There was a big difference in how these women dressed and acted compared to the typical women who accompanied the bikers, and the men at the table treated them with a respect and tolerance that made it apparent that they loved their women.

"Thanks, darlin', can you check on our food order?"

I smiled at the handsome, bearded biker as I was setting my last drink down. "Sure. I'll be right back." They'd put in a huge order of wings and sandwiches.

The front door of the restaurant opened as I was on my way by, and another biker walked in. He was big, like Rebel, though a little older with a touch of gray in his dark hair. He had the look of a man who’d seen and done it all, yet his expression was light-hearted, almost friendly. The fact that he wasn’t wearing colors told me that he was either a nomad, or he was doing what just about every other biker in town was doing who didn't want to flaunt his colors or draw unwanted attention to himself.

His sharp, blue eyes scanned the room before they landed on me, and I could tell that he wanted to ask me a question. Keeping the smile on my face, I paused and waited for him to say something. He grinned, revealing deep laugh lines at the corners of his eyes as he gave me a quick onceover.

"I’m lookin' for someone," he said, his eyes looking everywhere but in mine. "His name's Rebel." Finally, he focused on me. "He's a friend."

Of course they were friends. They had the same bad ass vibe and sexiness going on that just about every other hard-core biker did. "Come with me, please." I started to turn to lead him to where Rebel was sitting, but the thought that this could be a trap stopped me in my tracks. What if they weren't friends? What if this man was here to start trouble? I glanced back at him with concern. He stared into my eyes for a minute before breaking out into another grin.

"Relax, honey, I'm not here to cause trouble." He crossed his heart. "Promise."

"How do I know you're really friends?"

His laughter was sharp enough to cause several heads to turn our way. "Since when has Rebel needed a woman to protect him?"

I worried my bottom lip with my teeth, my gaze taking in the muscles that he was sporting. He and Rebel were evenly matched in that department, but this man had age on him and probably more experience, and chances were that he was armed. As I stood indecisively contemplating whether or not I should believe him, the biker's grin never wavered. He obviously found my uncertainty amusing.

"Can we get a waitress over here, please?"

I flinched at the sharp sound of impatience in the loud tone, and checked to see if it was one of my tables. It was Lola's. I looked toward the bar and made eye contact with Stevie to see if she'd heard the man. She had, and she threw up her arms in a gesture that said that she had no idea where Lola was. I saw that Carrie was hustling her tables, so it was left to me to take up the slack. I gave my attention back to the stranger.

"He's over in the corner table toward the back." I had to get back to work, and if they weren't friends I'd know soon enough.

I rushed over to the table of customers who'd called for a waitress. "I'm sorry about that. What can I get you folks?"

"About fucking time," a blonde man who was dressed like one of the many college kids who came in regularly grumbled. "We've been waiting for thirty minutes. Where's the waitress who was serving us before?"

"She must be on break," I explained, knowing for a fact that she wasn't. Most likely she was in the bathroom. I waited expectantly.

He shook his head with disgust. "Service here sucks." If he’d meant to mumble it beneath his breath so that no one could hear him he'd failed epically. I schooled my expression not to reveal my irritation, smiling brightly, my gaze taking in his friends. There were four men and three women, and it appeared that he was the odd man out. Maybe that was why he was so irritable. "We're waiting on an order of wings." His comment reminded me that I had a table of my own waiting on a similar order that I needed to check on. "And we want a couple more pitchers of beer."

"I'll get right on it." I swung around and left before he could say anything else. "Do you have an order of wings ready for Lola's table?" I asked at the ordering window. George was working furiously at pulling several baskets of wings from the deep fryer. Vinny was at the side, making sandwiches. He didn't even look up to acknowledge me.

"Be ready in a minute, honey!" George hollered from his spot.

"I need an order for one of my tables, too," I told him before I left the window and went to the bar. "Two pitchers of beer, Stevie." She got right to it, and I glanced over at Rebel's booth while I was waiting, surprised to see that along with the handsome stranger, another man had joined him. His back was to me so that I couldn't see what he looked like, but he was a beast of a man. His hair was clipped military style, allowing me to see the thickness of his neck where it met his shoulders. All three men seemed to have the same hotness factor going for them.

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