Page 63 of Scrape the Barrel
“Sage, is it?” the man asked.
My heart jumped in my chest at the use of my name and I turned. My spine was stiff, my breath caught in my throat. “Uhm—”
“You work at the cafe,” he explained, and my chest eased a fraction. He was just a customer.
“I do.”
He held out a hand and I looked down at it before hesitantly setting my palm in his. He shook it, his grip hard. “Can I buy you a drink?”
I pulled my arm back, folding my hands together in my lap as I glanced at my drink. “Already have one, but thanks.”
His brows pulled down as he ignored the drink on the bar. “I can buy you something better than that girly drink.”
My chest tightened like a brick was placed on it as I recognized him from the other day when he tried to get my last name. He’dmade me feel a little off then, but right now was solidifying the fact that he was a creep. “I’m okay. Thank you, though.”
“Please, I insist,” he said, his voice laced with demand. He held a hand up for the bartender to see and gave him a nod.
“Really, I’m okay—”
“You’re not one for pleasantries, are you?” he asked, cutting me off.
“I—”
“I think she said no,” Brandy’s voice interrupted before I could get a word out.
The man paid her no mind. “Little busy here, princess.”
The nickname he spit out so casually took me by surprise, and I looked at Brandy to find her fuming.
“What did you just call me?” she gritted out.
Lettie and Oakley strode up behind Brandy, smiles on their faces as they clearly didn’t know what was currently going on.
“He get our drinks?” Oakley asked, referencing the bartender, who was stuck in a conversation at the end of the bar, holding two of our drinks hostage.
This time, the man looked at the three of them. “Only buying for one tonight.”
“Not you, you fucking pig,” Brandy seethed, and before I could blink, she was shoving his chest.
23
Callan
Beckham must have glanced over at the bar for the hundredth time when he dropped his pool cue and stood ramrod straight. “Uhm, guys.”
“What now?” Reed complained right as a loud bang sounded from my right.
My head twisted toward the bar so fast that I had whiplash, but I didn’t give it a second thought when I beelined for the girls. The others weren’t far behind as we pushed through the few groups of people that were now staring at the commotion.
Brandy was yelling in some guy's face as Sage tried to scoot off her seat behind the man. His barstool had tipped over when he stood up, blocking her exit. She looked cornered and scared and it ignited a rage inside of me that I’d never felt before.
Lettie and Oakley stood behind Brandy like her backup, but they were so focused on the man that they didn’t see Sage trying to get away. It was like slow motion as I rushed over. She tried to balance a foot on one of the metal rods on the stool, but her sneaker slipped and she careened forward. Breaking into a run to close the ten feet still separating us, I caught her around her waist as she braced her hands on my chest.
“I’ve got you,” I murmured into her hair as she shook against me.
Making sure her foot wasn’t caught in the stool, I kicked it away and pulled her to me. Her entire body trembled as my hands tightened on her waist.
Seconds later, Beckham was in the man's face, sending a punch straight into his jaw. He was a swing first, ask questions later kind of guy. Brandy tried to get a punch in, but before her fist could land true, Reed was picking her up by the waist and slinging her over his shoulder.
