Bet On Me, Daddy (Big Daddy Energy #2)
Prologue
PROLOGUE
BECKETT
Auction Night
F rom the back of the pit, he watched the auction play out. Ice certainly had his hands full with bratty little Silver, but he seemed to like it that way. Even after that brattiness had nearly gotten her killed, it didn’t look like Ice was attempting to curb her defiance in the slightest.
It made Beckett itch, little ants of worry and anxiety crawling under his skin every time he thought about how Silver had looked in that hospital bed. Soft and pale and lifeless. And him, helpless to do a damn thing about it, just like before.
Not the same. It’s not the same at all.
The one saving grace in all this was that the asshole who’d put her in the hospital was on the other side of the country, and from what Beckett had heard his parents had him under careful guard.
Still, he couldn’t quite understand how Ice could just laugh when Silver thumbed her nose at his rules yet again. He knew damn well Ice hadn’t wanted her to play tonight, that he was still worried about the potential damage to her hands. But Silver had found a way around him, yet again.
Because the more he watched, the worse the itch got, he turned away from the stage and headed toward the stairs. There were a few people watching from the top floor, but most of them had headed down to the pit for the auction, so the bar was mostly empty when he made his way over.
Ruby, the pretty brunette Braden had recently hired to work the bar, flashed her signature bright smile when she spotted him. “Evening, Master Beckett. Nothing catch your eye downstairs?”
“No.”
Her smile went tight at the edges at his curt response. “Too bad. What can I get you?”
“Whiskey, neat.”
Tossing the towel she’d been wiping the already gleaming wood down with over her shoulder, she leaned in, bracing her hands on the bar. “Sir. With all due respect, do you know how many types of whiskey we have here? I’m going to need you to be a tiny bit more specific than that.”
A scathing rebuke burned on his tongue, but he swallowed it down. It wasn’t Ruby’s fault he was in a pissy mood, and it sure as hell wasn’t her fault she didn’t know his usual drink order since he’d barely been to the club since Silver’s accident. The only reason he’d come out tonight was because Ice had asked him to, and Braden had mentioned he thought the girls were up to something. Even if he couldn’t actually control the brat squad, he could at least keep an eye on them if he was here.
“Sorry. A glass of the Macallan. Please,” he added when she didn’t move.
Like someone flipping a switch, her smile returned, bright and cheerful. “Coming right up.” Moving with the grace and confidence of a seasoned pro, Ruby placed a tumbler in front of him and poured. “So. Wanna talk about what’s bothering you?”
“Nothing’s bothering me.”
“Uh-huh. You always go around looking like someone just pissed in your Cheerios, then?”
Shit. So much for his devil-may-care persona. A persona he’d carefully cultivated during his years at Club BDE.
Forcing a smile, he lifted his glass. “Sorry, sweetheart. Just having a bit of an off night.”
Curiosity filled her dark eyes as she tilted her head to the side. “You’re friends with Ice and Silver. I saw you with them earlier.”
Again with those little ants under his skin. “I am.”
“What are they like? You know, when they’re not in rockstar mode?” Glancing around, she dropped her voice to a stage whisper. “I’m kind of not-so-secretly obsessed with them. Especially Silver.”
Ah, a fangirl. Finally some steady ground. “They’re shockingly normal, to be honest,” he said, his grin coming more easily now. “You’d think it would be all lavish parties with other rockstars but, alas, I’ve yet to meet any of their A-List pals yet.”
Tossing her head back, she let out a loud, delighted laugh. “How incredibly rude of them.”
“The rudest.”
Mischief sparkled in her eyes when she met his gaze again. “Next time he orders something top shelf, I’m giving him the cheapest whiskey we have, just for you.”
“That would be very naughty, Ruby. And you know what happens to naughty girls in a place like this.”
“Why, Master Beckett, that almost sounds like you’re asking me for a scene.”
It wasn’t the worst idea in the world. But judging by the prank she’d so easily concocted, Ruby was a brat of the highest caliber. And he’d had his fill of bratty subs for a while.
“Maybe another time.”
Disappointment flickered across her face, but she shrugged it off. “Maybe. Another Macallan?”
“Actually, I really should be getting home. Close me out, Ruby Red.”
She raised an eyebrow at the nickname. “I’m not a redhead.”
“There’s hints of it in your hair. Like little flashes of fire when the light hits it just right.”
Fuck. He had no business flirting with a woman he wasn’t interested in. But he hadn’t been lying about her hair. It came alive when she moved, and another time, another place he’d be itching to burying his hands in those long locks.
If it bothered her that he was complimenting her right after turning her down for a scene, she didn’t show it. She simply closed out his check and handed it over for him to sign. He left her a larger-than-usual tip to make up for being an asshole when he’d first sat down and slid the paper back toward her.
“Goodnight, Ruby Red.”
“Night, Master Beckett.”
Forcing himself to stand up and walk away from the bar, he made his way down to the valet. And tried not to let his thoughts linger on the pretty girl with mischief in her eyes and fire in her hair.