Page 4 of Skid
I watched the whole scene unfold with a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. They kept watching her as she poured a tray of shots, and I could see her visibly exhale as she grabbed the tray and walked from behind the bar. Asshole licked his lips, and I leaned forward to get a better view as she approached the table.
The band announced, “We’re going to take a fifteen-minute break,” and the loud music ended, making the conversations in the bar easier to hear.
Grace approached the table and placed the tray down, sliding a shot in front of each dumbass while the one who ordered them began to reach his hand out. When the last glass was off the tray, she went to stand just as he palmed her juicy ass with his scrawny hand, causing her to shoot straight up, her back rigid and her face filled with rage.
“Is there a reason your hand is on my ass?” she asked, her eyes cast down at him.
“I wanted to feel what I would be gripping into later tonight as I ride you,” he replied, and all his friends laughed.
He had an eat-shit smile on his pimply face, and just as I went to stand to get him away from her, I heard a voice yell from behind the bar, “Don’t do it, Grace.”
Her lips pressed up and her eyes hooded as she turned her head over her shoulder to see the guy squeezing her ass. Lifting her head, she bit her lip and warned calmly, “I’ll give you three seconds to take your hand off me, and there won’t be a problem.”
Grabbing her with his other hand, he tugged her closer to him, and that was the last second he was sitting in the chair. Grace still had her hand on the drink tray, and with lightning speed, she swung it sideways, catching him against the side of his head, knocking him onto the floor. His hands fell from her body, and she stepped over him as the bar went silent.
Leaning over him with the tray in her hand, she spoke in a deadly tone. “If you ever put your hands on me again, God himself won’t know where to find you during the rapture.” She looked at each guy at the table, all stunned that a tiny woman knocked their friend out. “If you assholes think it’s okay to treat women like this, I feel sorry for you. When a woman says no, she fucking means no. Leave this bar and do not come back, or I swear to everything that is decent and holy, I’ll feed you to the gators in the river.”
Fuck, I think I’m in love.
I couldn’t keep the grin off my face as the tiny woman corralled the men out of the bar, dragging their groggy friend with them. Their shots sat untouched on the table, and she lifted one, drinking it in one swallow before slamming the glass to the table.
“Anyone else?” She swung her eyes across the bar, and you could see heads shaking as she nodded. “Drink up.”
She walked away from the table, and a few people reached over, snagging the free drinks and laughing. I could see Grace duck behind the bar and reach into her small bag before motioning to the older man who owned the bar that she was stepping outside. This may be my chance to speak with her, seeing a real piece of her for the first time since I walked into the bar.
I stood from my spot in the corner and walked toward the bar, only to be stopped by the old man who worked alongside Grace.
“Hey, slick,” he said to me, and I turned my head and lifted my eyebrows at him. “Let me talk to you for a few minutes.”
He was in his mid to late forties and his eyes were filled with wisdom. He appraised me with some level of understanding as I turned toward him. Approaching the old wooden bar, I sat down on one of the stools near the door where Grace exited as the man slid a glass of whiskey across to me.
“I’ve seen you in here for the last few weeks. And from the way you can’t keep your eyes off Grace, you’re interested in her.” I shrugged before taking a sip of the drink and placing the glass onto the bar. He leaned over and spoke quietly. “I don’t know what you think you’ll achieve by making a move on her, but you see what happens when someone gets too friendly with her. Do I have to worry about that with you, son?”
His eyes fell to my Death Hounds cut and he hardened his stance behind the bar. Smirking at the old man, I finished the glass of whiskey in one swallow and stood. Leaning over to yell in his ear as the sound of the band filled the room, I replied, “I wish she would have broken his nose with that shot, but I’m assuming she was being . . . nice?”
He chuckled and yelled back to me, “Nice may be a bit of an understatement when it comes to Grace and her personal space. Good luck, and remember to duck if something comes flying at your head.”
Shaking my head with a smile, I pushed away from the bar as the old man turned to pull a beer from the cooler for another customer. The door to the right was marked ‘Employees Only’, and I opened it, expecting to find a small break room. I was pleasantly surprised to find a large, enclosed area surrounded by a tall wooden fence with a table and chairs under a small pavilion.
The sound of the bar filtered to barely audible as the door closed behind me and I stepped into the night air. The smell of damp earth hit my senses first, followed by the stinky smell of weed. I followed the smell to the side fence and saw Grace leaning back in a chair with her face tilted to the night sky. She had a joint in her hand and blew a plume of smoke into the air. I stood silently and watched her for a moment, wishing I could see inside her beautiful mind to get the answers to my questions. Clearing my throat to alert her to my presence, I walked closer to her as she turned and looked over her shoulder at me.
She sighed heavily and snubbed the joint out in an ashtray next to her chair before turning her full attention to me. There was little light filtering to this side of the enclosure, so I halted my steps, leaving ten feet between us.
“Can I help you?” she asked and stood from her seat, crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her head to the side, waiting for my response. She was defensive and her body was full of thinly-veiled anger.
“I was hoping we could talk?” It was lame, but those were the first words that popped into my brain.
The next wasmine, but I pushed that urge down and waited for her to answer.
She looked me up and down with curiosity before she shrugged and walked to the pavilion. Taking a seat, I followed behind her and sat down across from her, wishing she was in my lap. I had to will myself to stay on track and not go caveman on her. I’d never felt the tug to a woman like I felt the first time I saw Grace standing behind the old bar, pouring beers with a smile, and now I was at a loss for words.
“Are you going to talk or just stare at me?” she inquired as she leaned back in her seat.
Clearing my throat, I picked a jumping off spot, hoping to break what appeared to be a layer of ice around her, freezing anyone who got close and keeping them at a distance. “That was pretty impressive back there. Does stuff like that happen a lot?”
“The asshole frat boys?” she asked, and I nodded. “From time-to-time, guys from the next town over come in, and mostly, they aren’t a problem.”
“I can see why. Damn, you wield a tray with force.”
