Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
CALLIE
Working at the Bar is usually a much-needed reprieve, but with my body on high alert, all the noise and customers are almost too much to handle.
I pour another round for the table Bree is waiting on.
Jax moves behind me, his presence a familiar comfort as we fall into the rhythm we developed working here together.
The Bar pulses with Friday night energy—classic rock pumping through the speakers, boots scuffing against worn wooden floors, and the buzz of conversation mixing with clinking bottles.
The crack of a pool ball ricochets through the room.
I’m exhausted, more emotionally than physically, but I feel as if I’ve been running a marathon. Theo hasn’t made another appearance and that almost scares me more than if he had.
The busy atmosphere of the bar isn’t helping things.
It’s feeding me a chaotic energy, which isn’t too different from herding children in art class.
Drunk people and elementary kids aren’t so different if you ask me.
They’re demanding, maybe a little smelly, and I can’t help wondering if they’ve washed their hands.
Knox and Brax are sitting at one of the corner tables with the guys from the screen-printing shop.
They cater mostly to tourists, but the shirt I’m wearing with The Bar’s logo is one of theirs.
I can’t fault them for going where the money is though.
That’s what everyone has to do in a town like this.
Knox is wearing an easy grin, something I haven’t seen much of since I’ve been back, and warmth unfurls in my chest as I watch him laugh at whatever Brax says. Any trouble we might be facing is set aside for tonight. No drama. No Theo. No—
The front door chimes, and my blood turns to ice.
Mother fucker.
Penelope sashays through the entrance like she owns the place, bleached hair catching the neon beer signs, turning a concerning shade of yellow. She almost looks radioactive. Her tits strain against a shirt that’s two sizes too small.
I snatch another shot glass a little too aggressively, pretty sure my eye is twitching at the sight of her.
Every instinct screams at me to march over to Maura and demand she throw this bitch out, but that would give Penelope exactly what she wants: a scene, a reason to smirk and say I haven’t changed.
A reason to call me half a dozen vile names in front of everyone.
Forcing myself to breathe and turn back to the bar, I focus on pouring the last shot and setting it with the others. The server sorts them on the tray, and I take a keen interest in wiping down parts of the bar that don’t need cleaning.
“Hey, baby.” Penelope’s saccharine voice cuts through the music as she slides onto a barstool directly in Jax’s section.
Jax doesn’t even glance up from the beer he’s pouring. His jaw ticks, but his hands stay steady. The slight tensing of his shoulders is a good reminder that I’m not the only one Penelope hurt with that video she posted.
She leans forward, pushing her chest together with her arms. “You’ve been working out, haven’t you? Looking good.”
“Nothing out of the usual.” His voice carries all the warmth of a January morning, and he still refuses to look at her. As if to make the point, he grins at the customer he hands the beer to, all warmth and kindness. “Enjoy.”
Rage simmers in my gut. She knows exactly what she’s doing. Flirting with him to make me mad. I keep my expression neutral as I line up the bottle labels so they’re perfectly aligned. Penelope’s reflection in the bar mirror shows her pouting, clearly frustrated by Jax’s lack of interest.
“Who is that?” Bree asks.
I glance at her, eyebrows lifting in surprise. She usually doesn’t talk outside of telling me what drinks she needs or to say thanks. “The devil incarnate.”
Bree’s lips twitch. “I thought she looked familiar.”
Chuckling, I quickly fill up a glass of water and pass it to Bree, who takes it and gulps it down. She really should take better care of herself, but I don’t know her well enough to say as much.
“So, what’s your sign?” Penelope tries again, batting her fake eyelashes.
Jax finally looks at her as he passes behind me to grab something he needs, close enough that his chest brushes my shoulder. “Octagon. Bright red,” he murmurs to me on his way back to his side.
A snort of laughter escapes before I can stop it. Stop sign.
Penelope’s face twists into something ugly, and her voice drops to a husky purr. “How about you give me your number, and we can hang out.”
Jax’s palms slap against the bar top. He leans forward, voice low and deadly quiet. “Listen carefully, because I’m only going to say this once. I’m not interested. I will never be interested. Find someone else to contaminate.”
“You piece of shit.” Venom drips from every word as she snatches her drink. “You know you’ve always been the worthless one. You’d be lucky to date me.”
She storms toward where people are playing pool, but then her steps slow as she spots Knox and Brax at their table. She slowly turns to me. Our gazes connect, and she tosses her hair over her shoulder with deliberate fuck you energy.
Wonderful. There goes my momentary reprieve. Ruined by the cunt who fucked up everything. She struts over to their table like she’s walking a runway, and before anyone can react, she plops right into Knox’s lap.
I grind my teeth, eyes narrowing at where her ass presses into Knox’s legs. Heat floods my vision, turning everything red around the edges. My heart jack hammers.
I’ll kill her.
“What the fuck?” Knox shoots to his feet so fast Penelope tumbles to the floor with a shriek. That’s my boy.
She struggles to get her footing in her four-inch heels, but she finally scrambles up, face twisted with rage. “Asshole!” Crack. Her hand connects with his cheek. Her nails rake across his skin, leaving angry red welts.
Silence descends upon the bar. Even the music seems to fade away, and suddenly I’m moving before conscious thought kicks in, storming out from behind the bar. Jax curses behind me, his boots pounding against the floor as he chases after me.
“Maura!” His voice booms.
Two steps. That’s all I need to reach this bitch and—
Strong arms wrap around my waist, lifting me off my feet. My whole body is still moving forward though, so my feet and arms swing out in her direction and I growl, trying to wrench out of his hold. She’s fucking dead.
“Easy, Alley cat.” Jax’s breath is warm against my ear, his grip firm. “She’ll press charges.”
“Oh, great! Look who came to join the party.” She sneers at me. “You were always a jealous little whore,” Penelope spits, smoothing down her hair. “I hope you’re enjoying my leftovers, skank.”
“What in the hell is going on here?” Maura appears like a countryfied version of an avenging angel, red-checkered shirt, shorts, and well-worn boots. Her hands drop onto her hips and fire burns in her eyes.
Penelope immediately switches tactics, her voice becoming breathy and innocent. “Callie attacked me! I was just trying to say hello to Knox, and she went completely crazy. You need to do something about her before—”
Maura’s laughter cuts through the bullshit like a knife. She shakes her head. “Bless your heart, sugar. I think you have that wrong. My Callie may be a lot of things, but she would never start a fight in my bar without a good reason.”
Well, at least she knows I would definitely start a fight, because I was wholeheartedly about to.
Penelope rears back with a scoff. “You’re going to take this slut’s side?”
The temperature in the room drops ten degrees as the words wash over me like a bucket of ice water. Maura straightens, growing inches in a matter of seconds, and her scowl could freeze Satan’s balls. “It’s time for you to leave.”
“You can’t kick me out! I’m a paying customer!”
“Watch me.” Maura jerks her thumb toward the door. “Out. Now. And don’t come back.”
Penelope opens her mouth to argue, but something in Maura’s expression must convince her to cut her losses.
With a noise that would make a banshee envious, she whirls and storms to the door.
She stalks toward the exit, pausing only to shoot me one last venomous glare before slamming the door shut behind her.
There’s a moment of complete and utter silence from the patrons and then the entire bar erupts in cheers and applause.
Someone shouts, “Good riddance!” and glasses clink in celebration.
But all I can see is the blood trickling down Knox’s cheek from where her nails gouged him.
“Shit, Knox. That looks bad.”
Jax finally releases me, and I rush to the supply closet for the first aid kit. My hands shake as I tear open an antiseptic wipe. Goddammit. This is my fault. Theo. Penelope. Them losing their house. Everything.
“Sit still,” I tell him, grabbing a stool from a nearby table and perching on it in front of him. The cuts aren’t deep, but they’re angry and red. I dab at them gently, trying to ignore how close we are and how my chest flutters.
“I’m sorry.” The words tumble out in a rush. “This is my fault. If I hadn’t come back—”
“Stop.” Knox’s hand covers mine, stilling my movements. “Don’t apologize for that psycho.”
I shake my head. “She only came after you because of me.”
“She came after him because she’s a bitter, hateful person,” Brax says. “That’s not on you, Callie.”
“The only person responsible for Penelope’s actions is Penelope,” Jax adds, his voice still rough with leftover anger. “She’s filled with malicious envy and needs to do some serious self-reflection.”
Knox, Brax, and I trade looks again.
“Seriously, who are you?” Brax asks his twin.
Jax taps his temple. “Get educated, bro.”
“Fuck you.”
“No, fuck you,” Jax mutters, but there’s no heat in it.
“They’re so annoying,” Knox tells me quietly.