there is of them, are sitting down. “What happened?” I ask Charlie. Dutch, Charlie, Toes and Chains look like they’ve had the shit beat out of them. “Where’s everyone else?” I ask, surprising myself that I actually care.
“At home,” Charlie says, his voice slightly slurred by a nasty swelling on his lip.
“What happened?” I ask again, unsure of what to do.
“We ran into a little problem last night,” Charlie says. “Nothing to worry about.”
I look at Charlie and Dutch, the most beat-up of the four. “You two should see a doctor!” I say to Dutch, not wanting to show how upset I am over Charlie’s injuries.
Charlie splutters out a laugh. “Fuck that. I’ve looked worse than this after a good hard fuck,” Charlie says, but then he softens. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. I’m fine, Alicia. Besides, you should see the other guys.”
“The other guys, the Hawks, or the other other guys?”
Charlie snorts. “The other other guys. Siphon took it the worst, the stupid fuck. The rest of us are just a little banged up. I swear, I think Siphon likes to get the shit beat out of him.”
“What? Why?” I ask, not understanding.
The four guys start to laugh. “First off, Siphon likes to fight. But mostly, it’s Liz. She’s a real scrapper and the nastier, the dirtier the fight, the better she likes it. I’ve seen her kick more than one guy’s ass and trust me, nothing turns her on like a good fight. She’s probably fucking the shit out of Siphon again right about now. Make him forget all about it,” Dutch explains with a grin.
“But what happened?” I ask yet again, nearly desperate to know.
Charlie and Dutch look at one another before Charlie looks back to me. “Let’s just say we had to point out the error in someone’s thinking and leave it at that, okay?”
“But… why didn’t you call the police?”
“Because there are some things we can handle better than the police,” Charlie says. “Alicia, it’s okay. The problem is solved and we won’t have to deal with it again. Don’t worry. Shouldn’t you be up there?” Charlie asks with a nod toward the stage.
I look at the clock on the wall. “Yeah, I guess I should,” I say, not wanting to leave.
As I play my first set, I watch Charlie start knocking them back, his lip curling into a sneer with each drink he tosses down. By the time I finish the first set, the four of them are well on their way to being drunk and Charlie is playing grab-ass with Bobbi, much to her delight. That doesn’t sit well with me at all, but I say nothing and take my spot at the end of the bar.
By the end of the second set, the rest of the Hawks are gone but Charlie is drunk on his ass, pawing at Bobbi and making her squeal and scold, though I can tell she’s enjoying the hell out of it. Once again I take my place, sip my soda, and watch Charlie and Bobbi while trying to hold back the green monster.
I wrap up my final set and I have had about enough of Mr. Charlie Grieg and his roaming hands. As I sit down at the bar, Christine sets my Sprite in front of me. “Give me something with a little more kick,” I snap. I can see Christine’s eyebrow go up, but she turns and does as I say. She sits the shot glass in front of me and I toss it back, not even caring what it is. The liquid burns all the way down, forming a mushroom cloud in my stomach. “Woof,” I grunt hoarsely. “What was that?” I whisper to Christine, my voice lost to me for a moment.
“Jack, Black Label,” Christine says. “That one’s on the house. Looks like you need it.”
I chase the shot with the Sprite to take the edge off. “Fucking men,” I mutter under my breath.
Christine smiles. “Don’t be too hard on him… Bobbi’s been working on him for months.”
“She can have him,” I spat.
Tango steps out of the kitchen and announces last call. I take
“At home,” Charlie says, his voice slightly slurred by a nasty swelling on his lip.
“What happened?” I ask again, unsure of what to do.
“We ran into a little problem last night,” Charlie says. “Nothing to worry about.”
I look at Charlie and Dutch, the most beat-up of the four. “You two should see a doctor!” I say to Dutch, not wanting to show how upset I am over Charlie’s injuries.
Charlie splutters out a laugh. “Fuck that. I’ve looked worse than this after a good hard fuck,” Charlie says, but then he softens. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. I’m fine, Alicia. Besides, you should see the other guys.”
“The other guys, the Hawks, or the other other guys?”
Charlie snorts. “The other other guys. Siphon took it the worst, the stupid fuck. The rest of us are just a little banged up. I swear, I think Siphon likes to get the shit beat out of him.”
“What? Why?” I ask, not understanding.
The four guys start to laugh. “First off, Siphon likes to fight. But mostly, it’s Liz. She’s a real scrapper and the nastier, the dirtier the fight, the better she likes it. I’ve seen her kick more than one guy’s ass and trust me, nothing turns her on like a good fight. She’s probably fucking the shit out of Siphon again right about now. Make him forget all about it,” Dutch explains with a grin.
“But what happened?” I ask yet again, nearly desperate to know.
Charlie and Dutch look at one another before Charlie looks back to me. “Let’s just say we had to point out the error in someone’s thinking and leave it at that, okay?”
“But… why didn’t you call the police?”
“Because there are some things we can handle better than the police,” Charlie says. “Alicia, it’s okay. The problem is solved and we won’t have to deal with it again. Don’t worry. Shouldn’t you be up there?” Charlie asks with a nod toward the stage.
I look at the clock on the wall. “Yeah, I guess I should,” I say, not wanting to leave.
As I play my first set, I watch Charlie start knocking them back, his lip curling into a sneer with each drink he tosses down. By the time I finish the first set, the four of them are well on their way to being drunk and Charlie is playing grab-ass with Bobbi, much to her delight. That doesn’t sit well with me at all, but I say nothing and take my spot at the end of the bar.
By the end of the second set, the rest of the Hawks are gone but Charlie is drunk on his ass, pawing at Bobbi and making her squeal and scold, though I can tell she’s enjoying the hell out of it. Once again I take my place, sip my soda, and watch Charlie and Bobbi while trying to hold back the green monster.
I wrap up my final set and I have had about enough of Mr. Charlie Grieg and his roaming hands. As I sit down at the bar, Christine sets my Sprite in front of me. “Give me something with a little more kick,” I snap. I can see Christine’s eyebrow go up, but she turns and does as I say. She sits the shot glass in front of me and I toss it back, not even caring what it is. The liquid burns all the way down, forming a mushroom cloud in my stomach. “Woof,” I grunt hoarsely. “What was that?” I whisper to Christine, my voice lost to me for a moment.
“Jack, Black Label,” Christine says. “That one’s on the house. Looks like you need it.”
I chase the shot with the Sprite to take the edge off. “Fucking men,” I mutter under my breath.
Christine smiles. “Don’t be too hard on him… Bobbi’s been working on him for months.”
“She can have him,” I spat.
Tango steps out of the kitchen and announces last call. I take
Similar Books
Requiem for a Realtor
Ralph McInerny
Nine Goblins
T. Kingfisher
Soldiers of Conquest
F. M. Parker
Thorneless (Rose of Thorne Series)
Mia Michelle
Love All: A Novel
Callie Wright
Tomorrow Is Too Far
James White
The Millionaire Fastlane
M.J. DeMarco
Firefox
Craig Thomas
Maxwell’s Curse
M. J. Trow
Fatal Call (New Breed Novels Book 4)
Martha Bourke