14. River
River
“ W here’s your head tonight?”
Tilting my head toward Dove, I lift one shoulder. “Nowhere in particular.”
My bar manager, five foot nothing with the attitude of a bridge troll and the soul of a psychopath, eyes me with something bordering on disgust. “Is it a girl?”
“What? No. Jesus, Dove. I’m not talking about my love life with you.”
She cackles, spinning in place with her arms out wide as if she’s on a fairground ride. There’s something not right in her head, but the bar has never run so smoothly than it has under her watch. Probably something to do with the bat she keeps tucked away in the corner. It only took six smashed kneecaps, four sets of broken teeth and one green-faced visit to the emergency room with a pair of balls clutched in his grip – literally – to get the message across that she’s not to be fucked with.
And that was… I think back. Three years ago? In her first week .
“Sure you can.” She raps her knuckles on the bar. “I’m an excellent listener.”
I eye her warily. “I tried to speak to you about restocking last night, and you started doing the can-can in the middle of the bar.”
Her face turns serious. “Your voice was boring me, Geraldine.”
For fuck’s sake. “I am your boss, you know.”
“Which is why you still have your eyes, Gerry baby.” With that absolutely fucking terrifying statement, she waltzes off to serve a floppy, frat-looking guy at the other end of the bar who clearly hasn’t received the memo, given the way he was staring at her ass a moment ago.
She looks like a fairytale princess, but she’s actually the fucking devil.
Thirty seconds later, I’m on my feet and ducking under the bar, swearing under my breath as I storm over to her. Dove blinks down at the unconscious guy. A significant egg is forming in the middle of his forehead. “I didn’t slam him that hard. It won’t even leave a dent.”
And not a fuck was given.
“How can someone so small create so much fucking chaos?” Gesturing to the security guys, we watch in silence as they drag him out and I make a mental note to have him barred from all of our places.
Wait – not silence. Jesus. She’s humming the damn Funeral March.
Edging away, I point a thumb over my shoulder, unashamedly searching for an escape route as she turns slowly, pinning ridiculously violet eyes on me. “I’ll be… er…. out there.”
She blinks, slowly. “You can run, Gerry. I’ll find you.”
Fuck. Me.
I almost slam into Kai in my haste to put as much distance between us as possible. “Don’t go near Dove tonight. She’s in a mood.”
Kai only nods, his jaw tight. He’s dressed for another night of fights, his fists wrapped.
Frowning, I grab his arm as he tries to slip past me. “Again? That’s every night this week.”
Just letting off steam.
I fall into step beside him, changing my original route. “She’ll call.”
His hands jerk in a brief see-saw motion. Maybe.
“Where’s Jenson? Is he back?”
He points over his shoulder toward the office. Slowing, I watch as he heads toward the ring, people shifting out of his way. He gets a few nods, but nobody speaks to him.
Fucking assholes.
Jenson clearly is in a mood too. His words are short and terse when I rap my fingers against the door. “Fuck off.”
“It’s me.” Ducking inside, I take in the glass in his hands, barely an inch of liquid left. “Hope you saved some for me.”
He doesn’t drink alone in here often. It’s the sign of a bad night. “Kai’s fighting again.”
Jenson takes a deep glug before pouring himself a refill, yanking a second glass to him before sliding it over to me. “Fifteen years today.”
I pause, mentally counting. No wonder he got in the ring last night. “Shit. I didn’t—,”
“We wouldn’t expect you to.” He stares down into his glass. “I went to their grave today. After we left Briar.”
Fuck . No wonder he’s losing himself in a bottle. “I still think you gave her too much, putting them together. She deserved to be tossed into the fucking sea.”
Jenson sighs, and at that moment he looks far older than thirty-three. “It made no difference to me. Besides, I didn’t do it for them.”
“He doesn’t visit her.”
“He might, one day.” Jenson stands, tugging his jacket into place without missing a beat. “And if he does, he’ll have somewhere to go. I’ll watch the floor tonight. Have a night off.”
When I protest, he shakes his head. “I need the distraction. For several reasons.”
I pick up my own drink at that, throwing the last of it back before I stand as well. “You think she won’t call?”
Jenson’s voice filters back to me. For once, there’s no harshness in his tone. Only an old pain that stretches back nearly half our lives.
“I think your Briar Rose would be out of her mind to come anywhere near us.”