My cell rings and I tear my attention away from the monitors to answer it. I’ve got a lot of work to do and I can’t let anything – or anyone - distract me.
Olivia
Jas is like an entirely different person tonight. She hasn’t stopped chatting and she even smiled at me once.
“We’re about to get slammed in here. You can grab something to eat before we get busy, if you want.” She points toward the kitchen behind the bar.
My stomach rumbles, reminding me that all I’ve had today is a cup of coffee and some dude’s cum, so I go through the swinging door. It’s small and isn’t set up very well. They must not do much cooking out of here, or else someone would have figured out a better system. One of my jobs last year was at a Mom-and-Pop style restaurant, and I learned a lot about cooking there, even though I was hired to help with their books.
I go to the walk-in cooler and get some cheese, mayo, pickles, and deli meat. When I come out, I’m floored for a moment. There’s a man leaning against the counter, with long blond hair. In fact, he reminds me a lot of a wrestler I used to watch on TV, when I was little, before my life was fucked up.
“Hi,” I babble, nervously. “Can I help you?”
He eyes the contents in my hands. “Making a sandwich?”
“Yeah. Jas said I could eat before it got busy. I hope that’s okay.”
He nods. “Of course. Mind making me one?”
“Sure.” I look around. “Do you know where the utensils are?”
“I’ll grab a knife. Bread’s in the box on the counter.”
I put my items on the island and go to the box. “White or wheat?”
“Surprise me.”
I grab the wheat and take it back to the island. He’s waiting with a knife. I take it and open the mayo. He’s silent while I make the sandwiches, which is kind of unnerving. When I’m finished, I hand him one.
He takes a bite and lets out a little moan that makes my stomach flutter. “God. Can’t remember the last time I had a turkey sandwich.”
“Really?”
He grins. “Scout’s honor.”
“Well, I’m glad you like it.” I smile. “I’m Olivia, by the way.”
“The new bartender, right?”
“Yes.” I pause. “I’m sorry, if I met you last night, I’ve forgotten your name.”
“I’m King, Saint’s right-hand man. Got a last name, Olivia?” At my look, he says, “I’m assuming you didn’t fill out your new hire paperwork?”
“Oh. No, I guess I didn’t. My last name is Mayhem.”
“Mayhem? That’s fucking awesome.”
It’s not, not really. It’s not even my parents’ last name. They thought they were being super clever when they gave me an original last name. Of course, that’s just the first thing of many that they did to me that was fucked up.
“Do you need anything else for the paperwork? I can bring my license in tomorrow.”
He replies, “Nope. Thanks for the sandwich, Olivia.”
He leaves, so I grab my sandwich, eating as fast as I can. It hits the spot and I wash my hands when I’m finished. Loud laughter comes from the main room, so I know my break is over. I go back out and find Jas leaning over the bar kissing a very hairy man. When he pulls back, I’m surprised to see it’s Grizzly, the guy from the other night. He says something to Jas and then goes to a table where a group of men sit. Jas sees me staring and grins.
“Isn’t he hot? Way better than the dickhead I was dating before.”
“I think I’ve seen him at another bar before.”
She nods, wiping the bar top down. “He’s usually at a bar on the other side of town, but he’s here tonight, since the club had Church.”
I join her side. “I hope I don’t sound dumb, but why did they have Church today? It’s not Sunday.”
She throws her head back, laughing loudly. “Oh god. You’re cute, you know that, Olivia? It’s not church church. It’s when the Prez holds a meeting. All the club members have to come.”
It’s all Greek to me, so I nod.
“I’m going to work the floor. You good over here?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
She grabs a tray and towel and sashays to a table where the men give her the appropriate whistles and catcalls. I shake my head, smiling.
Bash comes over and sits. “Hey Olivia. Can I have a beer?”
I grab him the brand he asked for last night and hand it to him. He takes a long sip, his throat working as he swallows.
“Damn, that’s good.”
“I’ll take your word for it. Beer’s not my thing.”
He grins. “Let me guess, you like fruity drinks with little umbrellas in them?”
“I’m more of a root beer kind of girl, to be honest.”
I never drink. I can’t afford to lose control. Ever.
“Root beer?” His eyebrow lifts. “I can’t even remember the last time I had root beer.”
I shrug. “I won’t say no to cream soda, either.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
There’s a loud commotion from across the room, and Bash sighs.
“Guess I better get those fuckers in line.”
He finishes his beer and crosses the room to where two men stand, looking like they want to rip each other head’s off. Bash says something and both men back down, even though they’re both bigger than him. One of the guys hands him a drink and then they’re all laughing. Guys are weird.
Jas comes behind the bar, grabbing a bottle of tequila. “Damn, the guys are ready to party tonight.”
She takes the bottle to the table where Bash is, and they all take sips, passing it around. Someone cranks up the music and the room grows wilder, if that’s possible, but I feel safe behind the bar. Until Psycho comes up, eyeing me.
“Get me a beer, bitch.”
My eyes widen. “Excuse me?”
He leans over the bar. “Did I stutter? Get me a beer. Now.”
My hands shake as I reach down, getting a bottle of the brand he’s been guzzling all night. When I put it in front of him, his expression changes.
“What in the fuck is this?” He swipes his hand, knocking the bottle off the bar, where it shatters.
“I-I’m sorry. I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“You thought wrong, you little bitch.” He gives me a disgusted look. “Guess I’m going to have to train you.”
Fear explodes in my body, and I back away from him. But I think he must like the fact that he’s scared me, because he leans over the bar even more. I back up until my back is touching the wall, but it’s still not far enough.
“You’ll be kneeling by the time I’m finished with you.”
I try to form words, but my throat is too dry. My hand touches the wall behind me and I wish I had a weapon. Anything to protect myself.
Psycho opens his mouth to say something else at the same time a hand connects with his jaw. His head swings to the side in slow motion. Blood and spit spray into the air and he makes a sound as he falls to the floor. I look up and see Saint standing over Psycho. He’s saying something to him, but I can’t make out the words. Then he turns to me, the look on his face softening.