Page 9 of Loch
“Huh,” I said. “That’s kinda funny, and a little mean.”
“Never said we were nice people, babe.” With that, he gave me a wink, slid off the stool and walked away, leaving his words to swirl warnings through my head.
I glanced around. Some of the guys were tilting their bottles back as they finished the last swallows. I grabbed a few fresh bottles and popped the tops off, Bocca’s words bouncing around my head the whole time.
“I don’t pay you to stand around and flirt,” Nate’s voice came from behind me, deep and harsh. I jumped, nearly dropping one of the bottles. “Boys need more over at the pool table.” I turned around slowly and held up the bottles I now had a death grip on in my hands. I gave him a snide smirk before I turned back around.
“And yes you do,” I turned back around to face him. I just couldn’t let it go. “You pay me to serve and make you money. Part of serving is making people feel comfortable. I’ve learned that a little flirting can go a long way with the green. Guys tend to empty their drinks faster and tend to drink more. So, that leads to me selling more, which is more money in that pocket of yours. And it also gets me more tips, which I need now, seeing as these are the only people that have been in here all night.”
Halfway through my rant, I noticed him grinding his jaw. He knew I was right and there was nothing for him to say back to me. Or so I thought.
“Brothers don’t pay to drink here, so you flirting right now is worthless.” My face fell. How the hell was I supposed to know that? Also, how the hell did the bar make any money?
“Good to know.” I turned around and walked off. I needed to get away before I let my temper get the best of me and I uncontrollably spewed words I would later regret. He was my boss, after all. And he was nice enough to give me a job. I had to keep reminding myself of that as I stomped over to the pool table, handed the beers out, and took the empties away.
I made my rounds, reading their cuts trying to remember faces and names. I had a feeling I would be seeing a lot of these guys. Some greeted me with a chin lift as they looked me up and down. A few of them didn’t even acknowledge that there was a human handing them their beer. While others actually chatted with me a bit. I got asked the typical questions like where was I from, who was I, what was I doing there, and so on. I was as vague as I could be and scooted on to the next person.
I recognized the two guys that were at the bar yesterday with Bocca. The one with the lip ring looked down at me, face impassive, as I handed him his beer. There was something unreadable in his eyes. But for some reason, my body understood its meaning, and I flushed hard. With a hard swallow I looked and saw his name was Diesel. Seemed fitting. I turned my attention to to the other guy. His shaggy, brown hair tamed by a back ball cap.Prospect. No name.
“Thanks, Reagan,” he said, taking his bottle. Seemed he remembered me from the day before.
“You know my name, shouldn’t I know yours?” I said, cocking my hip playfully. He let out a huffed laugh as he ducked his head for a moment. Like he wasn’t sure he should be laughing or even talking to me.
“Brandon,” he said, looking up at me again with a boyish twinkle in his eyes. I smiled.
“Cool.” I turned my attention away from him, not wanting to get him in any kind of trouble. If that what was even the problem. I didn’t know their rules, but I had a feeling I should not push to break them.
My gaze landed on a tall, bulky guy. My eyes widened as I took him in. He was casually leaning against the wall. Something about him screamed deadly. He was off to the side, almost like he wasn’t part of everyone else. I got the feeling he liked to be in the shadows. I took in a deep breath as I approached him, fresh beer in hand. The closer I got, the more intense his gaze became on me. But he wasn’t checking me out. No, he was sizing me up. Figuring me out. He didn’t freak me out in a bad way, but something about the way he studied me made me twitchy.
“Seven,” I huffed out in a nervous laugh as I read the name on his cut. “How does one go about getting a name like that?” I asked before I had a chance to think better of it.
My mind ran in many different directions. Had he killed seven people? All at once? That almost seemed like too easy of an answer. I just hoped it wasn’t anything that scary. But then again, these were bikers.
His eyes narrowed at me for a long moment. I started to squirm. I was about to open my mouth and tell him to forget it when his face relaxed.
“I ate seven snakes at once. Tails and all. Alive,” he said in a straight tone. Then he flashed me a wide smile. One that made me wonder if he was telling the truth or not.
I blinked at him waiting for him to tell me he was joking or start laughing. But it never came. I had no choice but to walk away wondering how crazy he was.
Around midnight, most of the guys had headed out. Bocca, though, sat at the bar like he was waiting for something. Nate was clearing off the tables, while I was cleaning up the bar top for the night.
“They need to get a part for your car. It’ll be ready tomorrow,” Nate said, coming up behind me and making me stiffen. How did he do that? I never heard him approach. I was starting to think I needed to keep one eye on him at all times.
Did that mean he was giving me a ride home? A thrill shot through me and I held back the urge to jump up and down while clapping like a teenage girl.
“I can take her home,” Bocca said, standing as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He tossed a crisp twenty on the bar and winked at me. The guys may not have paid for drinks, but they did tip well. For that, I was super grateful.
“No,” Nate said firmly. I was standing between them. My eyes moved from one to the other and back again trying to figure out what was going on.
“I know how you don’t like to put anyone on the back of your bike,” Bocca said, smirking. “I have no problem with her being there.” I was at a total loss as to that what the hell was going on. Nate’s jaw ticked for a few seconds and his nostrils flared the tiniest of bit.
“No sense in you riding in the wrong direction when she lives right next door to me.” Nate’s tone left no room for discussion. It seemed logical to me. There was so much tension hanging thick in the air and I had no clue why.
“No, it’s cool, Nate. I don’t want to ruin your reputation or whatever. He can take me. Seems like he actually wants to, so…” I said. My tone may have been on the bitchy side. But I was ready to get off of my feet and go home. Seeing as I had a sit-down job for a while before this, I wasn’t used to standing for so many hours at a time. While the boots I’d worn were comfy, they weren't enough to stop the throbbing.
I grabbed my phone and started for the front door. Before I even rounded the bar, a rough hand wrapped around my arm. My body whirled around so fast I felt dizzy. I crashed into Nate’s hard chest, my hands pressed up against it trying to brace myself. My head tilted back to look at him but his eyes were locked like laser beams on Bocca.
“Lock up,” He said to Bocca, as he pulled me down the hall and out the back door. I had no choice to go along, my feet stumbling along at his pace.
