I grip my bag, storm down the stairs and straight past my parents sitting in the living room. They don’t even call out for me. Why would they? There’s nothing for them to say to me. Not even a be careful. I rush down the front steps just as Danny pulls up. He sees the look on my face, and pulls off his helmet. I wave at him frantically, letting him know I don’t want to stop. I just want to go. I need to get out of here, and away from the constant reminder that I’m second and I always will be. I lift the spare helmet off his bike, and climb on the back, saying nothing. He pulls his helmet back on, takes off, and we head to the movies.
I hold him tight the entire ride, struggling to steady out my emotions. When we pull up, and we’re both off the bike, he turns to me. His big, brown eyes scan my face, and I can see he’s worried about me, but he’s also not the type to talk emotions. He’s hard. It’s just the way he is. His parents died at a young age, and he was left alone. He lived a hard life, and he’s continued to live a hard life. He tried though, he went to school, got a job, and tried to build up something that had been so severely broken in the past. Sadly, it didn’t last long. I know he’s into some pretty bad stuff, even though he leaves me out of it.
“You okay, Tom Cat?”
“Just Cheyenne being an ass again,” I say softly.
“Sorry,” he says, it’s the only thing he ever says, emotions aren’t his strong point.
I wave my hand, plastering a smile on my face. “It doesn’t matter. What are we watching?”
He grins, offering me his hand. I take it, and we walk into the theatre. Girls automatically turn and stare at Danny, it’s hard not to. He’s wearing dark denim jeans, a tight black shirt, and heavy black boots. He’s got a few colorful tattoos running up his left arm, and he’s wearing a great deal of silver jewelry. He looks like a bad ass, and let’s face it, girls love a bad boy.
“You wanna go funny, or scary?” he asks, as we scour the titles, still hand in hand.
“Scary.”
He smirks, and we order two tickets to some horror flick that I have no doubt we will laugh the entire way through. It’s our thing. We come to the movies, and we laugh. It doesn’t matter if it’s a scary, funny, sad, or downright boring movie. We laugh, and we have a great time. We’re both the kind of people who will laugh right at the moment everyone else is crying. I remember watching the Titanic when it came back on big screen for the second time. Right at the end, people were blubbering and a complete mess, but Danny and I? Nope. I’ll never forget Danny’s comment right at the end, when Rose has just let Jack go, and she whispers, “I’ll never let go, Jack.” Danny snorted, and stared at the screen in horror as Jack sunk. His words? “She just fuckin’ let him go!”
We laughed for days about it.
That’s just us.
And our friendship might not be for everyone, but it’s ours, and because it’s ours, I love it.
CHAPTER 5
CIARA - PRESENT
“I’m so sorry,” I say when my boss comes back from his few nights away to see the mass amounts of chairs and tables missing because of the brawl that broke out in the bar the other night. I’ve managed to clean most of it up during my last few shifts, but there were some things I couldn’t replace.
He’s glaring at me, panting angrily. “You fucked half of my fuckin’ bar!”
“I’m sorry, it was a bad call on my part. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you.”
“Damn right you will. You’re goin’ to go a week without pay to replace what you fuckin’ broke.”
I want to argue, but there’s no point. I’ll only lose my job, and I need this job. It’s all I have. If I lose it, I have to go home, and there ain’t no way in hell I’m going to crawl back to my parents. No way in hell.
“Of course,” I say, my voice small.
“You’re lucky you’ve still got a job. If I could find girls easier, I would have fired your ass.”
“Thank you for giving me a chance.”
I turn and walk away before he can answer. I feel awful for what I’ve done. This bar is the only one in town the locals can come to and enjoy themselves, and I had half of it smashed to pieces because of my terrible behavior. That’s on me.
I head into the backroom, and the girl that’s on with me, Jenny, is just changing. She smiles at me, a wicked little gleam in her eye. I can’t help but return the smile. Jenny is a devil at heart; she would have gotten a complete kick out of what went down the other night.
“I heard you caused a bar fight while I was away.”
“Yeah, I did that.”
“With hot bikers...” She grins, wiggling her brows.
I raise my brows at her. “How did hot bikers become involved in this?”
“You tell me.” She winks.
I grin at her then open my locker to pull out my skirt and tiny blue top that is compulsory for us ‘bar bitches’. I slip my top off, and shimmy into the tiny blue tank. I quickly tie my hair up and throw on some basic make-up, then I turn and answer Jenny’s question.
“It wasn’t hot bikers, it was Spike and his boys...”
“Oh god, Spike was the one fighting? My panties just got wet.”
Mine did at the time too, but she doesn’t need to know that.
“He was mega pissed.”
“Totally the best way for a man like him to be. So, what happened?”
I shrug. “He came in, defended me and took me home.”
“Spike took you home? I thought you two hated each other?”
“We don’t hate each other...as such.”
“He came to your defense? What have I missed here?”
I grin at her, and lean down to slip on my shoes. “Nothing. I swear.”
“What punishment did Joe give you?”
“A week without pay.”
“Ouch,” she says crinkling her pretty nose.
Jenny is an attractive girl, the kind of girl that gets most men’s attention. She’s Latin, and has these dark brown eyes, perfect olive skin and straight, thick black hair. She has a slight accent, which just makes them want her a whole lot more.
“Yeah, ouch. I guess I’m eating crackers all week.”
She frowns at me. “Is it that bad?”
“It’s not easy paying my own rent, food and college fees.”
“Sorry. I wish I was here so I could have stopped it all before it happened.”
I laugh, and wave my hand. “It’s fine, it was my own stupid fault.”
She chuckles. “Yeah, well, let’s get to it.”
We spend the first two hours of our shift bringing out some old chairs from the storage room and making it look a little more respectable for Joe. When the doors open, I get behind the counter and start serving as soon as the first group comes in. We have a hen’s night on, so one side of the bar is covered in pink streamers, balloons and pretty table decorations. I can’t help but smile when the group of girls comes in, dressed in pink fairy outfits. They are all carrying little wands, and giggling the way all girls should when out enjoying the upcoming marriage of a friend, or family member.
I feel my chest tighten. I’ll never have that kind of feeling. My sister is dead. I have no one left, because my parents continue to somehow blame me. I guess I was the one that originally brought Spike home, so that must mean I am to blame. I turn my attention back to the glass I’m drying, and focus on steadying my breathing. No point in getting upset over something that can’t be changed.
I turn, throwing the glasses in the dishwasher, and then I get back to serving. That’s when he walks in. I hate that he’s decided to come in tonight, because it’s just a shitty night for me. After I tipped beer all over him the last time he was here, I honestly didn’t think he’d show his face again.
Spike and his club members take a seat at one of the round, corner tables. I peer over at them, and Spike looks up at the same moment. Our eyes meet, but I quickly turn mine away. I watch as Joe walks over, gives them a stern lecture, and then,
as if nothing ever happened, he’s laughing with them.
I feel Jenny slide up beside me as I’m watching them, and I know she’s going to say something. She’s getting a great deal of satisfaction over the fact that Spike being here is making me completely uncomfortable.
“You’re on his table tonight.”
Of course I am. I turn and give her a look. She puts her hands up innocently.
“Hey, I got given the hens, be grateful.”
“You’re awful Jenny,” I mutter.
“Oh come on, look at him.”
We both turn to stare. He’s wearing a bandana tonight, and bits of his messy blonde hair and stick out from beneath it. His shirt matches the dark blue bandana, and his black jeans are perfectly fitting for his body. His leather jacket is sitting on the table beside him, and his heavy black boots are crossed under the table. The colorful tattoos on his arms are showing, along with the thick bracelets around his wrists. God damn, he can pull off the biker look so incredibly well. I turn, and switch my gaze back to Jenny.
“I’ve looked...”
“Well.” She wiggles her brows. “Enjoy yourself.”
Sighing, I turn and walk around the bar and over to Spike’s table. He looks up at me when I stop, and his eyes slide over the outfit I’m wearing. Yes, I know, it’s revealing. My black skirt is short, and when I say short...I mean short. My top sits above my belly button, so basically, most of my body is on view for perverts to gawk at. It’s Job of the Year, I tell you.
“Nice outfit,” he grumbles.
“What can I get you boys?” I ask, ignoring him.
“You can come over here and sit on my lap.” One of the bikers grins.
Spike shoots him a glare. “Fuckin’ pipe down, Muff.”
The man named Muff, grins. “Just givin’ her a chance to take a break.”
“As much as I’d love to, I can’t take a break.” I smile sweetly. “Now, drinks?”
Spike is watching me, I can feel his gaze, and it’s causing little shivers to run through my body. God, I hate that he constantly has my body coming to life. Fucker.
“You seein’ anyone, sweet thing?” Muff asks.
I smile at him; it’s kind of hard not to. He’s sweet...in a creepy, cute kind of way. He grins back at me. He’s not a bad looking man. He wouldn’t be a great deal younger than Spike, and it’s possible he’s even the same age. I’m fairly sure Spike is around twenty-nine.
Muff has a youthful face, and long red hair. He kind of reminds me of one of those Scottish men.
“Not right now.” I grin.
“Well, keep me in mind yeah?”
“She ain’t keepin’ you anywhere, now shut the fuck up,” Spike growls at him.
Muff puts up his hands. “Whoa, Prez, just playin’.”
“Get us some beers,” Spike growls, giving me a hard look.
I glare at him. “Where are your manners, Danny?”
The boys burst out laughing, and Spike’s eyes flare angrily.
“I’ll show you fuckin’ manners in a minute. Don’t fuck with me, Ciara. Get us some beers.”
I cross my arms and stare at him, refusing to move until he asks nicely. He crosses his arms and glares right back.
Fine, two can play at this game. I turn, walk to the bar and get some beers, then I return...minus one. I give all the guys a beer, except Spike. I smile sweetly at him, and just as I’m about to turn away I say, “Didn’t anyone ever teach you that manners get you everywhere?”
I grin the entire way back to the bar, and even more when Spike has to walk up and get served by Jenny, who, mind you, thinks all her Christmas’ have come at once. My grin widens as I watch him stomp back to the table. Completely satisfied with myself, I turn and continue serving.
I know by the amount of people piling in, that the night is going to be a big one. The hens are already chatting up random men that walk in. A few of them have sauntered over to Spike’s table and fluttered their eyelids. I catch a glimpse of Spike laughing, and pulling one of them onto his lap. He gives me a smirk when I see his eyes on me. Oh Spike, you’re playing with fire.
“Another round for Spike’s table,” Jenny says ten minutes later, sliding me a tray.
I pick it up, and walk over. Spike’s hands are up Blondie’s skirt. Screw him for being such a jerk. He’s rubbing me up the right way, and clearly...her the right way, too. She’s clutching him, running her lips over Spike’s neck. Our eyes meet for the briefest moment, and I hope he sees nothing in my gaze.
I grin, putting the beer down and peering around the room. Joe is out back; five minutes won’t matter. I lean over the table, knowing my breasts are popping out enough in my top to send most men over the edge. Muff’s, eyes widen. I grin at him.
“See something you like?”
He grins, flashing me two cute dimples. “You know I do, princess.”
I grin back. “I could use that break now. You want to join me outside?”
Nodding, Muff stands and slides out of the booth. Spike is glaring at me, I can feel his eyes burning holes into the side of my head, but I don’t once look. I take Muff’s hand and yell out to Jenny that I’m going on break, then I head outside with him.
We take a seat at the smokers’ table, and he lights one up, offering me one. I’m not a big smoker, but every now and then I don’t mind enjoying one. I take the smoke, and lean forward and let him light it for me. I notice the tattoos running up his arms: they’re quite colorful and extensive. I take hold of his wrist and inspect them.
“You’ve got some great work here.”
“Yeah, took a long time to get those tatts how I wanted them.”
“I like them.”
“Yeah?”
I release his arm and grin up at him. “Yeah. So, tell me, what’s your real name?”
He gives me a lazy half-smile. He really is an attractive man. It surprises me to see him alone. “Brian.”
I smile. “Brian...how did you get Muff?”
He laughs hoarsely. “You know what a muff is, princess?”
I giggle. It’s unexpected and a little girly. “Yeah, I do.”
“Well, that’s how I got my nickname...I got a thing for...well...muff.”
I snort and roll my eyes, taking a deep pull of the cigarette. “Don’t all men?”
He laughs again, and leans back against the wall. “Yeah, but not the way I like ‘em. I could spend hours with my face buried in a muff, hours and hours. I couldn’t care less if the girl didn’t touch me once, so long as I got to taste her over and over again.”
My cheeks flush. Wow, he really does like women’s...bits.
“Well, I guess you do take it to the next level. Your girlfriends must like you a whole lot.”
His deep, rumbling laugh warms me somehow. “Yeah, princess, they sure fuckin’ do.”
I hear the door open, and turn my head to see Spike walking out, Blondie attached to his side. A swell of pure pleasure fills my chest. I know the look on Spike’s face. He came out here to check on me—even though he didn’t ditch Blondie, he’s still checking. That warms something inside me, and it fills me with even more determination.
“You better not be harrassin’ girls, Muff,” Spike says, lighting up a smoke.
Blondie giggles and leans over, taking a drag. Spike grins down at her, and then lowers his head and captures her lips in his.
My heart hammers against my chest. I know what he’s doing. He’s making a point of trying to piss me off. He’s trying to make me mad at him so I’ll walk away. Oh Spike, you really don’t know the girl I am anymore. Old me would have ran off crying, new me...she can play. I turn to Muff, and continue our conversation as though Spike didn’t walk out.
“So tell me, Muff, is there a lucky girl getting all that special attention from your right now?”
He crushes his smoke out. “Nope, no lucky girl right now. My tongue is havin’ a break.”
“What a shame,” I say, my voice far more husky tha
n I’d like. “I could use a decent tongue.”
Spike makes a choking sound, and Blondie giggles.
“I think we interrupted something here...” she says.
I’m grinning on the inside. Believe me.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Muff says, grinning at me.
I’m almost sure he knows what I’m doing, and I’m grateful to him for playing along. He has a sparkle in his eyes, like he’s enjoying it as much as I am.
“You just call me, and I’ll be there.”
“I don’t have your number,” I say, grinning at him.
“Come here princess.”
I lean over, and he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a pen. He leans down, taking hold of my side, then he begins to write his number on the top curve of my breast. I flush, but I’m so completely grateful to him right now because when I lift my eyes, the glare Spike’s giving me could cut glass. When Muff is done, he leans back and gives me a subtle wink.
“Don’t you have a fuckin’ job to do?” Spike growls.
I lean over, gripping Muff’s face and bringing his lips to mine. I only peck him, but it’s enough. I pull back and Muff is still grinning. “Thanks for the break.”
“Anytime princess,” he says nodding at me as I hop off the seat and saunter past Spike.
When I get inside, I’m cheering. That’s two for Ciara and zero for Spike.
~*~*~*~*
The night is long, and people fill the bar quickly. The hens begin squealing, singing karaoke and causing an uproar with the men as they saunter around, looking for a good time. My night is so busy, I don’t get much of a chance to pay attention to anything else going on around me. We really do need more girls working on a night like this. My feet ache, and my hands are sore from opening so many beers. I could use the opener, but it’s so much quicker just to flip them off with my fingers.