Page 6 of Bartender Daddy's Girl
“Why don’t you join us for a drink?” Balding asks, patting the open chair beside him. But what tips me over the edge is his tongue slithering over his lips while scanning Carrie from toe to crown like some perverted predator.
I’ve never been much of a hunter myself, but there’s a first time for everything, right?
Taking the three steps over, I stop right behind Carrie, who, in turn, is a few feet away from the guy harassing her.
“These guys giving you trouble?” I ask Carrie.
I have to remind myself that this doesn’t have to turn bloody. I echo these words in the back of my mind like a mantra. I must do everything I can to keep the peace. But all I need is a reason, just one reason, and I’ll make this piece of shit regret ever speaking to her.
Carrie looks up at me, relief washing over her face, and an exasperated sigh accompanies it.
“No. I don’t think so.” Good girl. Saying all the right things to keep me from making a terrible decision. Restraint is good.
“You heard the lady,” Balding says, and my eyes snap to him. “So why don’t you scamper on back behind the bar and pour me another drink?”
restraint is good …
My eyes move from him, to the guy at his side, and finally the last sitting opposite. They look scrawny and weak, and being inebriated is a plus in my favor. But I don’t like my odds going three on one.
I’ll give them one more chance to shut this down peacefully.
“Why don’t you join me behind the bar?” I slip a hand around Carrie’s waist, trying to guide her away from the rabble.
But we barely make it a step before Balding shoots a hand out and grabs her by the wrist.
He tries to speak, no doubt something along the lines ofshe’s not going anywhere with you, but I don’t let him get a word out.
Within seconds of his greasy fingers touching Carrie, I have his balding head in my hand. I slam his face forward against the table and apply pressure until the table starts creaking beneath him.
His friend to the side stands, but before he can get anywhere near me, I kick in his direction. My boot strikes his mid-section and he hurtles back, crashing over the table behind him. The third doesn’t move, stunned and scared shitless.
“You want to try me too?” I growl.
He shakes his head.
“Then get the fuck out of here.”
He does as he’s told, tripping over his own feet while he runs for the door.
“Christ, relax, man. I was only messing around.” I hear Balding’s murmurs from below.
I press down harder, keeping him pinned, half hoping his head pops like a grape. It doesn’t, so I lean in close to whisper something only he’ll hear.
“How fucking dare you touch what’s mine?”
He squirms in the chair, arms waggling and legs kicking, trying to break free. He won’t.
“I’m sorry,” he yells at the top of his lungs. “I didn’t mean nothing by it. We were just having some fun.”
By that logic, I’d keep him pinned here all night. Because watching this piece of shit squirm tickles some twisted part of my brain. But I can’t stay here all night. I shouldn’t even be doing this now. Not in front of her.
Realizing it, I release him and take a few steps back. My eyes move over to Carrie, scanning her face for any sign that my assault put her off. Instead, I’m greeted by a smile. Agenuinesmile, not one of the ones she gave me this afternoon.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” I say.
But she doesn’t respond. At least, not with words.
Carrie jumps forward and swings her arms around my neck. Standing up on her tippy-toes, she uses all the strength she has to pull me downward.
