Page 6 of Dead Wolf Walking (Bad Moon Academy 1)
That’s my cue to leave. I deal with enough freaks to know when nothing good will come from an interaction.
“Okay. Kenzie will be back soon.” I spin on the heel of my Converse and head back to the bar. Why is it when you know someone is watching you, walking becomes a foreign movement? Like you’ve suddenly forgotten how to pick up your feet and each step is an awkward stomp.
Adler is drying his hand on a towel as he walks over, meeting me at the end of the bar. “Those guys give you a hard time?”
“They’re fine,” I say, making my tone firm. Adler is protective of his staff, and I don’t want him to pick a fight on my behalf.
He’s not stupid enough to believe the lie. “I’ll take care of them.”
I place my hand on his chest before he goes to rip the guys a new one. “No. They didn’t do anything bad. Not any worse than Mr. Haverty, anyway.”
You want to talk about creepy? Mr. Haverty deserves a gold medal.
Inhaling, Adler leans into my touch for a second. “You let me know if they do anything, and I mean anything, to make you uncomfortable.”
“Hey, Albus! Beer me.”
He glances me over one time, visually checking for anything amiss before he heads off to help the customer. “It’s Adler, Powell. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
The hair on the back of my neck rises, and I shiver. I quickly glance at the table. The asshole is watching me. His eyes skate over my outfit: a black shirt, a pair of black pants, and an apron. Hardly what I’d call attractive. When he lifts his gaze to meet mine, I flip him off. He smiles in response.
The nice guy waves in front of his face, distracting him long enough so I can slip back behind the full bar, shielded from his prying eyes.
I rub my finger over where he touched me. The skin tingles in response. Rolling my shoulders, I shrug off the unease and focus on cleaning beer glasses and grabbing backstock to keep Adler ready to serve his customers.
Kenzie returns after a while, checking on the table. I’m standing at the end of the bar near an empty seat, refilling bottles of ketchup and chewing on my lip as I study the guys. The blond one does most of the talking while the dark haired one listens. His attention is laser focused on his friend, that is until someone shoves into me, pressing me against the counter.
His head snaps toward me, those icy eyes narrowing into a terrifying scowl.
I grunt and place my hand on the bar top, glaring at the ketchup that’s now making a mess of the bar.
“Oh, sorry, baby,” someone slurs from behind me. “Damn, you’re fine as hell.”
Closing my eyes, I count to three before spinning around. “Watch where you’re going.”
Customer service be damned. This guy is wasted, and he’s staring at my apron covered chest like he can see my nipples. I don’t recognize him. He must be from a town or two over. Lou’s Bar is the country version of a nightclub sometimes. People come from all around to get wasted and grind against each other.
If I could afford college, I’d already be out of the little town of Deckerville. I didn’t get a scholarship like my friends, and since I graduated last month, I’ve been pulling double shifts trying to save enough to take a few community college classes later this year. Which means dealing with shitheads like this guy more than I care to.
Luckily, I know Aunt Lou won’t fire me for telling off some creep.
“No harm meant, baby.”
I take a step closer. “Don’t call me baby.”
He grins, obviously not taking a hint. “You wanna get out of here?” Stumbling to the right, he laughs and leans against the counter. “I can knock that scowl off your face.”
“I’m going to give you until three—”
“Trouble?” A dark voice ripples over my skin and I turn, not sure which guy I should be more concerned about.
The asshole from earlier is staring at me, waiting for a response.
“No trouble, dude, go back to your boyfriend.” The drunk guy pushes his hand into the other guy’s chest.
“Take your filthy fingers off my body before I snap them one by one.”
Okay, the asshole has anger issues.
