Page 16 of Iron Hearts
She nodded. “Split off from the Moon River Brewing Company after a falling out.”
“You know your beer culture,” I said, taking the glass from her and handing her a ten. “Keep the change.”
She threw some chin and operated the till, stuffing her tip in her back pocket, ignoring the shared tip jar in the back which was pretty empty.
I found that interesting –smart,considering the tension riding the air. For real, the sky was blue and clear for miles in every fuckin’ direction, but still, there was a crackle-like electricity in the bar's atmosphere.
Like the barometric pressure was rising or dropping – whatever the hell it did with an impending thunderstorm about to let loose.
“Your shift ending soon?” I asked her.
She shook her head. “Just started.”
“Well, damn,” I said.
“I heard you loud and clear,” she called back and moved on to help a Scorpion.
I guess concern had entered my voice because legit – I was worried about a pretty little thing like her getting hit again, or worse. If one of these dipshits opened up, it was anybody’s game. Here was to hoping they’d keep it at fists.
We could be so lucky.
CHAPTEREIGHT
Rarity…
Tension rode my shoulders and tightened everything along my spine the more these yahoos danced around fighting each other. It wasn’t a matter of “if” but “when”– the one with the name flashStrikerhad pretty much said as much. I didn’t know how I felt about that.
On the one hand, a heads-upwasalways nice… on the other, all I could think wascould we just… not?
I swear to God, it was a confusing scene in front of my bar. The men in red and black, their crowned skull of a logo on the back of their cuts, were fairly respectful. I didn’t pay any mind to the one who tipped me by way of telling me not to be a bitch. That was banter at its finest around here, and besides that, Striker had made up for it. Honestly, I think his brother had been trying to be Striker’s wingman.
I glanced up the bar to where Striker had left his place, wandering back to his little knot of fellow Royal Bastards.
He was older than me – but in that way that made it hard to tell if it was a lot, a little, or somewhere in between.
He had a good smile, all of his teeth in his head, but imperfect – a guy who had definitely never done the whole braces thing like I had, for which I was a little jealous. He had good teeth, too, just a couple crooked in the bottom set, and nothing crowded or gapped up top.
Checking a guy’s teeth around here was almost a necessity. There was a lot of hardcore drug use in the area, andno fucking thank you.
I didn’t ever want to hook up with some meth, ice, or worse – a budding flakka user.
I didn’t want to end up like that poor homeless man with his face eaten off. Florida man was a real thing down here and I wanted no part in that crazy.
Judgmental of me? Probably more than a little bit, but that’s how things had to go if you wanted to staysafein this day and age.
About the only thing I liked about watching Striker sidle up to my bar was watching himgo. He had a fine ass, and he knew how to wear his jeans. Wranglers by the look of them, and they fit him like a fuckingdream.
He was ruggedly handsome with chin-length brown hair and a set of keen hazel eyes that leaned more to green than any other color. His white tee underneath his dirty, patched vest hugged all the right places, and he had a nice set to his shoulders and swell of his chest.
Made me want to lift the tee and see what was under the hood – which was kind of obnoxious. I didn’t have time to date or for a fling or any of that. Not with Mom and the boys depending on me. My family was my whole world, and with Dad gone, I felt wholeheartedly like it fell to me. You know?
I know, my mom was supposed to be the adultier adult, but it’d taken two adults to keep things going and together when Dad had been alive. Even though his going had hit me hard – and I do meanreallyhard, my mom? It’d all butdestroyedher. So, with him gone, a lot was my responsibility now. There were three boys who would someday need to go to college and live their best lives. While we’d set some chunks aside for them in some high-yield savings from Dad’s life insurance, it was only a drop in the bucket with things going up, and up, and up.
I automatically contributed a hundred dollars a month to each account, and that was a chunk of change times three.
Their future waseverything… just like mine had been everything to my parents as I’d been growing up. I had no problem putting college on hold for a while to make sure the boys were taken care of. The plan was that things would get easier, and I would be able to do the whole school thing whentheygot into elementary school, which was only next year or, at worst, the year after.
Until then, I would work, work, work, work,work.
