Authors: Tiffany A. Snow
Now in an even fouler mood than before, I tied on my waist apron and headed out into the bar. It helped to see the other girls were dressed as I was, though I determined that I wouldn’t be shaking any martinis tonight – they’d just have to make do with stirred. Any shaking and I’d be giving more of a show than I already was.
We weren’t terribly busy, just steady, and I suppose you could say the outfits helped with holiday cheer – for the male patrons anyway. I caught more than a few wives and girlfriends scowling at me. I wanted to tell them that it certainly hadn’t been my idea to dress this way. The only thing keeping me from freezing was working and staying on the move.
I saw someone new sit down at the bar and turned to take their order. To my surprise, I knew him.
“Ryan,” I said, recognizing him from my visit yesterday. “What are you doing here?”
He looked as surprised as I felt.
“I could ask you the same,” he said. “I thought you worked for the law firm.”
“I work two jobs,” I said. “A girl’s gotta pay the rent, you know?” I smiled at him. He was wearing a button-down charcoal gray shirt and looking even better than I remembered, his chocolate eyes smiling back at me.
“Yeah, I know,” he replied.
“What can I get you?”
He ordered a beer and I grabbed a bottle, pouring it into a frosted glass which I sat in front of him.
“That’s some outfit,” he said with a nod to my attire. He took a swallow of his beer.
“Yeah, not what I’d wear in subzero weather, if given the choice,” I said wryly. “The owner has a different point of view.” I pointed out the other waitresses in our identical red velvet.
“Well, I’m not going to argue with the owner,” Ryan said with an appreciative grin.
“What are you doing downtown?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Had some business down here,” he replied. “Thought I’d stop in for a drink before heading home. I would’ve come here sooner if I’d known a girl like you worked here.”
I smiled at the compliment.
It had slowed down so I chatted with Ryan for a while. He was a funny guy and had me laughing at some of the stories he told. It felt good to just relax and enjoy his company. The stress I’d been feeling with Blane and Kade had taken more of a toll than I had realized. I was surprised when I glanced at the clock and saw it was near to closing time.
“I’d better start clearing up,” I said, “but thanks for keeping me company.”
“Anytime, beautiful,” he said, finishing his beer. “I’m hoping to change your mind about that dinner.”
My smile grew forced as I was abruptly reminded about my fight with Blane.
“Still involved?” Ryan asked, referring to my earlier reason for not going out with him.
“I’m...not sure,” I said honestly. After my outburst with Blane, I had no idea what the status of our relationship was. We’d both been so angry.
“That sounds promising,” Ryan said. “Not to wish ill will on your significant other, but his loss is my gain. Are you working tomorrow night?”
“I am.”
“Then I’ll see you then,” Ryan said with a wink. He tossed some money on the bar to cover his tab plus a tip and left.
I was a little behind so I hurried to finish my work in time for closing. The bar was deserted now and I wondered if Kade was going to be back in time to follow me home. A hint of worry niggled at me, but I tried not to focus on it.
Tish came up to me after she’d locked the front door. She’d put on her coat and had her purse in hand.
“I’m going to head out,” she said. Linda, the other waitress tonight, had already left at ten. “You good to finish up?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied. “I just need to stock.” I hoped Kade would be back soon. I wondered if I’d have to call Blane if Kade didn’t show up.
Tish left and I made several trips to the storeroom to retrieve supplies for the bar. The place was still and quiet, as were the streets outside. This late on a weekday night, everyone was bundled up warm at home. I’d turned off nearly all the lights except the small lamps that hung directly over the bar. The amber glow from the streetlights filtered in through the blinds on the windows.
A noise made me go still. I listened intently, the hair on the back of my neck standing up. I heard it again – coming from outside.
I ran to my purse stashed under the bar, yanked it open and pulled out the gun. I made sure it was loaded and knocked off the safety. The feel of the cold steel in my hands comforted me and I took a deep, steadying breath.
Going to the front door, I peeked outside. It took me a minute to make sense of what I was seeing. Four guys were in a scuffle across the narrow street. I looked closer. Wait, it looked like three guys were ganging up on one who was putting up a hell of a fight.
When they stepped into the light, my jaw fell open in shock. It was Kade. And those guys – they were from the other night when that one had hassled me and Kade had stepped in. It looked like they were taking the opportunity for a little payback.
Anger flashed through me and I jerked open the door, heedless of the cold and snow. Bracing my feet and grasping the gun with both hands, I fired a shot up in the air.
That got their attention.
“Let him go, assholes,” I called out, aiming my gun at the biggest of them. Bob was his name, if I remembered correctly.
“Well, look who’s come to join us,” he sneered. “If it isn’t Miss High and Mighty herself. How you doing, bitch?”
“I said, let him go,” I repeated. Two of his cronies each had Kade by an arm and I couldn’t tell if Kade was standing under his own power or if they were holding him up. Worry and panic flooded through at me.
“How about we trade him for you,” Bob said with a leer. He turned and before I could do or say anything, he punched Kade in the face. Kade sagged even lower in their grip.
Rage erupted inside me, white hot and dangerous. I welcomed it, the fury focusing my senses. Taking careful aim, I squeezed the trigger, smiling in satisfaction as Bob yelped.
“You fucking bitch!” he screamed. “You nearly shot my dick off!”
“You’ve got until three to let him go and get out of here,” I called out. “One...”
The two guys holding Kade dropped him, turned and ran.
“Two...”
Bob cursed, aimed a last vicious kick at Kade, then took off after his friends. I ran across the street, my fury evaporating into worry as I took in Kade’s crumpled form on the ground. Flicking the safety back on, I set the gun down and fell to my knees next to him. The cold, wet concrete bit into my nylon-clad knees, tearing the fragile fabric.
“Kade, are you all right?” I asked, grasping his shoulder and wondering if I should try to turn him over or just call 911. He groaned in response and panic fluttered in my chest. What should I do? I looked anxiously back at the bar, which seemed very far away. Should I leave him here and go call for help? I wavered in indecision, not wanting to leave Kade alone.
“I’ve had better nights, princess,” Kade groaned, pushing himself painfully into a sitting position. Tears of relief stung my eyes and I quickly blinked them back. My hands fluttered uselessly, unsure how best to help him.
Kade’s eyes focused blearily on me and I winced at the blood and bruises already forming on his face.
“What the fuck are you wearing?”
“What?” I was so surprised his words didn’t immediately register.
“What are you doing in that getup? You do know it’s about fifteen fucking degrees out here, don’t you? You trying to freeze to death?”
“Last I looked, I was saving your ass,” I snapped. “I wasn’t aware that you required a dress code.”
A grin flashed across his face but quickly faded into a grimace of pain. My irritation passed as quickly as it had come. I jumped to my feet, reaching down to help Kade stand. He grabbed the gun, shoving it into the back of his jeans. Moving slowly, we made our way back to the bar, Kade leaning heavily on me.
I helped him onto a bar stool and watched as he painfully shrugged off his jacket which I took from him. I noticed then that his shirt was dark and wet in a spot on his chest, underneath his arm. “Kade, you’re hurt,” I said stupidly.
“No shit,” Kade replied, grimacing as he tugged off his shirt. I gasped when I saw the angry slice through his skin.
“We need to get you to the hospital,” I said firmly, swallowing down my panic. There was a lot of blood on him.
Kade gave a huff of laughter. “For this? Please. Just get me some water and something to cover it. You have band-aids here?”
“You can’t be serious,” I protested. “That cut needs stitches.”
He was already shaking his head. “You going to get me some water or should I do it myself? And I wouldn’t mind a shot or two of bourbon.”
“Fine,” I groused, grabbing a clean towel from behind the bar and filling a bowl with hot water. Pouring a hefty portion of bourbon into a highball glass, I sat it in front of him, then came out from behind the bar so I was close enough to clean him up. Kade moved to take my towel from me.
“I’ll do it,” I said, stubbornly gripping the towel tightly in my fist. “You can’t even see what you’re doing.”
He relented and I dipped the towel into the water, carefully cleaning the blood off his face. Kade watched me as I worked, his blue eyes unfathomable. I worried my bottom lip between my teeth, his attention making me nervous yet I was determined to help him.
His lip was cut but had stopped bleeding and there was a deep abrasion on his cheek. I touched the skin gently, wincing even though he did not. It looked like it hurt.
“What happened?” I asked, breaking the silence and trying not to reopen the cut on his lower lip. “How did they get the drop on you?”
“I was...distracted,” Kade replied. “My own fault.”
“Distracted by what?” I asked, wondering what he could have been thinking about that would have allowed three guys to sneak up on him.
He didn’t answer and I paused in my dabbing at the scrape above his eye. “What was it?” I repeated, my brow furrowing as he studied me. I watched as he turned away, grabbing the glass and downing the amber fluid in two swallows.
“Bowers place was cleaned out,” he finally said, replacing the glass and ignoring my question. “I watched and waited for a while, thinking he might show, but nothing.”
“What about the phone records?” I resumed my task, frowning in concentration as I cleaned specks of blood from his jaw.
“Tracing numbers even as we speak,” he replied. “I was headed back in when they jumped me. Then this Playboy bunny showed up with a gun and scared the bad guys away.”
I gave a tight-lipped smile at his teasing even as guilt assailed me. “I’m so sorry, Kade,” I said, stopping again. “If it weren’t for helping me the other night, this wouldn’t have happened to you.”
“Don’t mention it,” he briskly cut me off. “Want me to get the rest? You’re squeamish, aren’t you?”
“Of course not,” I replied automatically, wringing the towel out in the now slightly pinkish water. I turned back to Kade.
“Can you lift your arm?” I asked. He hesitated before obliging, bending his elbow and putting his hand behind his head so I could better see the cut. I was distracted for a moment, the muscles in his chest rippled with his movement, and I was suddenly aware of our close proximity. Swallowing, I jerked my attention back to his wound. It was angry and blood still seeped sluggishly from it.
“You should really get stitches for this,” I said quietly, cleaning the cut as gently as I could. The water quickly turned a garish red as I worked. Kade didn’t so much as twitch, even though I knew it had to hurt.
“Forget it,” he said.
“What’s the deal, Kade?” I asked in exasperation, feeling that my ministrations were woefully inadequate. “It only hurts for a second when they numb you and then-”
“And we’re done here,” he said briskly, lowering his arm. I stepped back in surprise, and then it hit me.
“You are kidding me,” I said in wonderment.
Kade looked at me strangely. “What?”
“You’re afraid of needles, aren’t you?” I asked.
“Right,” Kade snorted, but I watched in disbelief as his ears turned pink. I couldn’t help it – I laughed.
“It’s okay,” I said, grinning. “I swear I won’t tell anyone.” I held up three fingers. “Girl scout’s honor.”
“I am not afraid of needles,” Kade insisted. I nodded as if I believed every word, though I couldn’t wipe the grin from my face that said otherwise.
“Fine,” he said with ill humor. “But I’m not afraid of needles. I just...don’t like them. That’s all.”
I grabbed his glass, rounded the bar and refilled it. “And yet,” I said, pulling out the first-aid kit I’d insisted Romeo buy from underneath the bar, “you have a tattoo.”
I’d missed it before, but now I saw that on his upper arm was tattooed an intricate red and black dragon about the size of my palm. I moved closer to inspect it, running my fingernail along the myriad links and circles that made up the dragon’s body and wings etched into Kade’s skin.
“What does it mean?” I asked quietly, our eyes meeting. He glanced down, then away from my gaze.
“Tattoos are different,” he said, swallowing the bourbon and turning the stool from me so he faced the bar. “Not like the needles they use in hospitals.”
I sighed. He obviously wouldn’t answer some of my questions, and there was no point in trying to pursue something he didn’t want to talk about, though my curiosity about the tattoo was overwhelming.
Grabbing the antibiotic ointment, I squeezed some into my hand. “Lift your arm again,” I ordered. Kade did as I requested and I quickly smeared the gel into the cut. Kade stiffened. I worked as fast as I could, knowing the ointment probably burned like the devil. Peeling some bandages, I pulled his skin taut and criss-crossed over the cut, careful to keep the adhesive itself away from the wound.
“There,” I said in satisfaction once I was finished, “that should work for now. Though you need a real bandage. We should stop at the drugstore on the way home.”
Kade grunted and I smiled behind his back. That may be the closest he’d come to thanking me. I put the cap back on the ointment and was turning away when something caught my eye. I carefully sat the first-aid kit back down and stepped closer to Kade, who ignored me.