10. Rattle Some Snakes
Rattle Some Snakes
"This was a horrible idea," Jesse mutters as we enter The Flying Hog. He rubs the nape of his neck, skeptical gaze flittering across the crowded bar; half the Friday night patrons are already liquored out of their minds. "Maybe I should take you home. I can close up early or?—"
"Relax, it'll be fine. It's not much different from any other day," I say as we weave through the crowd toward the bar front. Andy flashes Jesse and me a tight-lipped smile. And it's begun. "Evening, Andrea, you're looking Corpse Bride as ever tonight."
Do I really want to spend the next six hours working with a walking mosquito?
No, I do not. But I was raised to help those in need and to show my gratitude whenever I can.
So here I am, on a Friday night, surrounded by dozens of armed, boozed-up bikers and a bartender that would chew my head up if given the correct cutlery. Momma would be proud.
Well...that's debatable .
"Do not call me Andrea," she spits, whipping her big ole head at Jesse. "What's she doing here? Where's Gina?"
Jesse's features harden. "Gina asked to have the night off. Apparently, someone rubbed her the wrong way last night." He gives Andy an all-too-knowing look. "Care to explain?"
Andy scoffs, rolling her eyes. "That bitch tried to short me on tips last night, okay? I just stood up for myself."
"She said you punched her in the face," Jesse states, unimpressed. My eyes widen. She punched her?! Sizing up Andy's tall and fit physique, there is no doubt in my mind that she'd be able to whoop my ass. "I've told you before, if you have a problem, take it up with me."
"How can I?" Andy scowls. "You don't answer my calls."
"Then maybe call me during business hours," Jesse retorts in a clipped tone. "Not at 3 a.m. when your blood's mostly vodka and downers."
Andy expels a harsh laugh. "What? Does that trigger you now, JP? Remind you of?—"
"That's enough!" Jesse slams his fist on the counter, forcing me to jump back. His livid gaze flits between Andy and me. "Both of you, get to work." He pauses as Andy and I remain quiet. "Now!"
"Right away," I say, rushing behind the bar to drop off my purse as Jesse storms off into the clubhouse.
Daddy used to get mad a lot in my early years, so I'm used to shouting and loud noises, but Jesse's outbursts appear to only emerge in the presence of Andy.
Daddy got angry proactively. Didn't want Momma to start a fight.
Jesse's anger is reactive. He doesn't want to escalate.
I don't think one's better than the other, but one sure is more understandable.
"Look at you, so obedient." Andy glares down at me as I retrieve an apron from a cubby and tie it around my waist. "No wonder you're his new favorite toy."
"Yeah, yeah," I say, grabbing a notepad and pen. "What else you got, Andy? Come on now, lay it down. If you give it all to me in bulk, we might be able to avoid talking for the rest of the night. Won't that be something special?"
"And ruin the fun?" She perks a sassy as heck brow. "Why would I wanna do that?"
"I don't know. Maybe because there's a teeny tiny part of you that wants to act like a decent human being?" I ask. "I'm sure acting like a total bee gets old over time, no?"
She snorts. "God, you're so cringe. Do you ever hear yourself talk?"
"All the time, actually," I say, unwilling to let her slither under my thick skin. "I got one of them apps that record you when you sleep. I sure say the darndest things while I'm dreaming."
"Wow..." Andy crosses her arms, disgust plastered over her sharp features.
"I'm actually embarrassed for JP. A lot of people are.
" She nods around the bar. "He really should think about who he keeps in his company.
" Andy lowers her voice as she leans down and whispers, "Riding off every night with a vapid bleach blonde bimbo who doesn't know shit about this life isn't good for his image. Or The Sons."
My jaw drops. "I am a natural blonde, thank you very much. I have never in my life applied chemicals to these beautiful thick locks. Why do you think they're so bouncy?" I grab the ends of my curls. "See? No split ends."
Andy blinks. "I?—"
"Sav!" Marlow's melodic drunk voice cuts through the booming chatter and rock music. "Savannah! We need more drinks!"
I search the packed booths and find Marlow sitting at the corner table with two other women.
"I'm coming!" I call out, not bothering to glance back at Andy as I weave my way to Marlow. Just as I slip between two tables, a large hand closes around my wrist, bringing me to a sudden halt.
"Excuse you—" I start, but the words die in my throat as I look down and meet Miguel’s dark eyes.
Crap.
“Oh. Hi again."
"Hello, Savannah." Miguel releases my hand and adjusts his position in his chair, leaning back and flashing me a disarming smile. "I'm glad you're still here. I was worried you might have already run back home."
"Not yet," I say with a nervous giggle, Jesse's warning twirling around my brain. Despite his approachable demeanor, I can't forget the fact that Miguel's cartel. AKA bad freaking news. "Did you uh—" I look down at his drink; it’s full. I wince, asking nonetheless, "Want another drink?"
"No.” He nods down to the empty chair next to his. "But I'd take a conversation."
"I can't," I say apologetically, biting my lip. "It's real busy in here, and I gotta work. But maybe another time? "
"Savannah!" Marlow yells again. Dang, she's loud. "Sav!"
"Listen, I gotta go make my rounds but let me know when you need another drink," I say before running off to the corner booth. I let out a heavy breath, glad to have avoided a crisis. I stop at Marlow’s table and give her a small smile. “What’s up, Mar?”
"Took you damn long enough," Marlow jokingly complains as she slides over three empty cocktail glasses. She nods at the bar. "Can't believe you agreed to work with the she-devil tonight."
"You must be brave," one of Marlow's friends says.
"Or dumb," the other chirps in.
"Hey!" Marlow dramatically holds up her hand. "This is my future sister-in-law, and I will not think twice about shanking any bitch that tries to mess with her." She hiccups. "Best friends included."
"She talks a big game, but she's honestly fairly harmless." One of the women chuckles and holds out her hand. "I'm Pippa, Tiny's wife. This is Casey, no attachment."
"Nice to meet y'all," I say, shaking both the ladies' hands. "I'm Savannah, Rad's sister." I pause, pursing my lips as I run through all the bikers I've met this past week. "Who...who's Tiny?"
Marlow tilts her head. "What? Tiny is Tiny. You know...big dude always with Jesse?"
I blink. "Yeti?"
Pippa chokes on air as she snorts. "Yeti?" She slaps Casey's arm. “He kinda does like look like a Yeti, doesn’t he?”
Casey frowns. “What’s a Yeti? ”
Pippa blinks. “Seriously dude?”
As Casey and Pippa bicker, I lean over to Marlow and say in a hushed whisper, “His name is Tiny? How did I miss this? I've been calling him Yeti all week."
Marlow's brows pinch together. "How'd you get Yeti?"
"I don't even remember," I whisper. "Surely someone said it, no?"
Marlow shrugs. "No clue, but I kinda like it." She nudges Pippa. "You cool if we call Tiny Yeti from now on?"
"Call the man whatever you want," Pippa says, chuckling. "But I'm not gonna be moaning Yeti when we go to bed."
Casey snorts. "Like Tiny is any better."
"Oh, he's not tiny, don't you worry." Pippa smirks. "I call him Big Daddy for a reason."
"Ew," Marlow winces. "Nope. Stop now. I'm not nearly drunk enough to be puking already."
"I got three kids, Mar," Pippa says. "You think a stork brought 'em?" She leans over. "We fuuuuuuck."
"Right, and with that—" Marlow gives me a pleading look. "Three more rum and cokes, and fast. Please ."
"On it." With a soft laugh, I collect the three empty glasses and march over to the bar, making sure I avoid Miguel and his unwavering gaze. I place the order on the counter, giving Andy a tight smile. “Three rum and cokes."
Andy perks up a brow and glances over at Marlow's table. "Sure Pippa doesn't want a diet coke?"
I glower at her. “What's that supposed to mean? "
"Come on, Savvy .” Andy chuckles in a heinous tone. "Even you're not that stupid."
My jaw locks as I seethe out, “Regular coke is fine . And I don’t think it’s your place to comment on what other people eat or drink. You’re a bartender, Andrea, not a nutritionist.”
She rolls her eyes. "Whatever."
While Andy works on the drinks, I make my way around the bar and take a dozen more orders.
Drunk men are often terrifying, but so far, all the men and women tonight have been nothing but smiles and thank yous— Andy excluded.
By now, everyone surely knows that I'm related to Beau; that's probably why they're being so kind.
A couple minutes later, I place the three rum and cokes on the tray and drop the drinks off at Marlow's table. "There you go,” I say. “Anything else, ladies?"
"Maybe some fries?" Casey checks with Mar and Pippa, who nod eagerly as they chug down their drinks. "Maybe some chicken fingers too. I feel like it's gonna be a long night with these two."
"I'll ring it up straight away," I say, studying Marlow's drooping eyelids. Dang. Girl's gonna need all the carbs.
As I place their order, table four waves me over, and I collect a tray of empty pint glasses from Poe. "These all yours?” I ask. “Might wanna pace yourself. Can't have you falling asleep in your mac n' cheese again, can we?"
"Don't worry, half are Jiggs'." Poe grins, laughing. "And I still don't believe that that happened. I remember nothing."
"Blacking out will do that to you," I sing, turning on my heel and heading to the bar .
When I pass Miguel's table, a meaty body smashes into my shoulder, and the empty glasses crash down on the floor. A sharp shard of glass slices up the top of my foot.
Pain spreads across my skin, and I wince. "Ow!"