Page 19 of Bartender Daddy's Girl
Speaking of brittle . . .
“How did that feel?” I ask, hearing my voice shift from the calm serenity of a few seconds ago, to grim and blood hungry. “Got someone your own size to pick on now, son. Better remember that when you try fucking with Carrie again.” I take a few calculated steps toward him. “You tell your boss she’s mine now. And if he doesn’t stop chasing her, he’s gonna get fucked up.”
“You broke my … ”
I’m not sure Baldy’s even listening anymore with how focused he is on repeating how I broke his nose. I’m starting to suspect their boss, Mr. Aimos, didn’t do much in the way of vetting when he hired these boys. They aren’t very good security.
“Let’s get out of here, Baby,” I hold my hand out to her, and she rushes to my side.
Hopefully, this will be enough to scare them off.
Because next time, I won’t hold back.
10
CARRIE
On our ride back to the bar, Judge explains that Frasier gave him the news this morning. Tells me that he didn’t want to scare me with the news, so he kept it a secret. Admits that Allistair is the reason he was on guard all morning.
I understand it. Hell, I thank him for it. He gave me a great start to my day in the best way he could under the circumstances. And the best part is, I got to watch him kick that bald prick’s ass.
We pull into the bar’s parking lot, and both of us instantly know that Allistair’s here. Apart from the sheriff’s car, there are only three SUVs parked outside. The sheriff is at Judge’s door before he can open it.
“I fucking knew this was you,” the sheriff yells once we’re out. “How dare you bring these troublemakers to my town? And now I’m hearing there was a fight at Glen’s Bistro? Why do I get the feeling you were in the middle of that as well?”
“Because I was,” Judge says. Not intimidated by the lawman, he starts walking toward the Stoneworks’ entrance. “I don’t have time for this, Larry.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” Sheriff Larry looks dumbfounded at the way Judge is handling this, and I can’t stop the smile creeping over my face.
Larry runs in front of us, walking back and holding his hands up to Judge, trying to slow him down.
“Inside?” Judge answers. “Look, they’re not with me. But they’re causing trouble, and I plan on getting rid of them.”
“If they’re not with you, what are they doing at your —” He realizes the answer before he has to ask the question. He turns his eyes to me. “They’re with you?”
“No,” I say. “They’re following me and I’m trying to get away.” Unlike Judge, my voice is timid toward the officer. I’m not intimidated by Larry specifically, but I’ve always found it hard to show any sort of strength when it comes to police officers.
“So, why don’t you do us all a favor?” Judge starts, side-stepping Larry. “And get out of here? I’ll fill out another one of your bullshit reports when I’m finished inside.”
“You know I can’t let you go in there alone if I think you’re gonna hurt those boys,” Larry protests, but there’s less conviction in his words. Almost as if he wants Judge to take out the trash, but he’s covering his ass as a sheriff.
“Then come on in, Larry. I’ll pour you a drink before the show starts.” Judge stops at the door and spins on his heels to face the sheriff. “Better yet, why don’t you take a drive around town. Show Carrie around.”
“What?” I shout at him. “I’m not letting you go in there alone.”
I know he only wants to send me off to keep me safe, but this is my fight. I want my chance to knock Allistair aroundtoo, I can’t have Judge face the consequences of my past alone. My responsibility. It wouldn’t sit right with me, especially if something happened to him.
“You heard the woman,” Larry says. “We’renot letting you go in there alone.”
A deep rumble emits from somewhere deep in Judge’s chest. “Then come along, sheriff. Just don’t get in my way.”
He steps through the door. Larry gestures for me to go next, so I can be in the middle of their protective barrier and follow behind. Judge is standing on the landing, looking down at eight men taking up two tables in front of us. Allistair sits with a small chessboard in front of him, playing with one of the guys I’ve never seen before. Baldy and Shades are at their sides, with another table right next to them, full of guys.
Allistair’s a thin man, wearing a white suit and orange-tinted glasses. His gaunt face has a wide smile splashed across it, and he finishes his move before he looks at us. He scans Judge first, then Larry, but his eyes linger on me for an uncomfortable minute.
“I bring a pocket-sized chess board everywhere I go,” Allistair’s the first to speak. “Do you know why?”
“Who the fuck cares?” Judge answers, and where I should be terrified, I laugh. Larry chuckles too, though tries to hide it out of professional courtesy.
