Page 65 of Dark Horse

“I’ll send that suggestion on to my lawyer.” I flash him a bright smile, one he doesn’t like, judging by the way his brows drop like a hammer.

“Ma’am, you could be credibly accused of assault.”

“Based on what? I haven’t heard a single person in here complain.” I feel my temper rising. “Should we ask them?”

“You’ll cease selling the shots immediately, or I’ll be forced to arrest you.”

“Again, based on what? I haven’t heard a single person in here object.” I jump up on the table of the bar and look around. “Anyone in here want to complain about their Sinner’s Shower? Worried that I gave them a love pat that was a little too much for their liking?” I yell out, and patrons start to turn around.

“Ma’am, get down off the bar,” the plainclothes cop yells to me from my knee level.

Hoots and hollers start to echo across the bar.

“It’s my bar. I’ve given myself permission to do so, and don’t worry, I’ve concluded I’m sufficiently sober.”

“You’re breaking health codes by standing on the bar.”

“I’ll wipe it down.”

“All right, ma’am.” He grabs my leg and jerks, nearly toppling me, and the crowd starts to surge toward us.

“Let her fucking go!” One guy shouts.

“Hey, man! Not cool.” Another admonishes.

“You heard her! It’s her bar!” They all start bellowing at him, but it doesn’t stop him from pulling on my leg.

“You’re under arrest, and if you don’t come down, I’ll add resisting arrest to your list of charges.”

“Let go of me!” I swat at his hand. “You’re hurting me! I’ll get down on my own.”

“Get off of her, you fucking asshole!” Hayley shoots down to my end of the bar and starts pointing at the cop.

Suddenly, the room is filled with them. Three more cops emerge out of nowhere and start threatening the crowd that’s getting rowdy on my behalf.

“Get down here, or you’re going to get more people arrested. I don’t think that’s what you want.”

“Everybody get the fuck out! Drinks down! Let’s go!” one of the other cops yells.

I start to slowly climb down from the top of the bar, but he grabs my ankle and yanks, which has me tumbling off the edge to the floor. The corner of the bar and the stool hit my leg, scraping me down my thigh, and my knees hit the hard wood of the floor.

“Holy shit!” I curse at the pain, rubbing each knee as I try to stand.

“Hey! Don’t treat her like that!” Gemma calls from behind the bar and gives me a sympathetic look.

“This is insane. You’re hurting her. I’m calling 911!” Hayley joins in the reprimand.

“I am 911,” The officer laughs at her.

“Don’t be a fucking pig! She didn’t do anything!” one of the guys the cop is ushering out yells just as he takes an open-palm shove to the chest and starts to trip backward.

I don’t have time to see if he falls because my own personal problem yanks me to my feet by jerking my upper arm and shoulder with zero care for the fact that I’ve just fallen. Hewon’t stop shoving me around either, and he pushes me into the bar as he twists my arms behind me. My yelps of pain don’t even slow him down.

The way the cops quickly usher everyone out has me suspicious. Like they were all just sitting around lying in wait to close me down. If it wasn’t the cops or recent history, I’d assume it was Grant trying to teach me a lesson. But he’d never involve the police, and he sure as hell wouldn’t let a strange man handle me like this.

So now I’m stuck wondering who would be harassing me like this. Morton’s and Cowboy’s, two other bars down the street, were jealous of the crowds I pulled some nights, but certainly not enough to go after me like this. I don’t have a lot of enemies. At least ones who would go to these lengths. At most, they’d sign me up for some catalogs and newsletters I didn’t want.

“Does it need to be so tight?” I grouch when my wrists feel like they’ve been crunched between the cuffs.

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