8. Skye
“Um… It’s not the end of the world. No need to get so upset about it.”
Sobs and hiccups erupt from my chest, and Rogue rubs the back of his neck nervously. Apparently, dealing with a hysterical female wasn’t on his top list of things to do today. This isn’t exactly how I imagined my day going either, but all the stress over the systems going down and not sleeping last night is finally catching up with me.
“Y-y-you can’t tell me not to be upset,” I stutter. “Last night was a shitshow. I know it, Waylon knows it, and now you know it.”
“Yeah, it was,” he agrees. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
No way in hell do I want to relive that shit. I shake my head and jump to my feet, turning toward the office door. “I’m gonna go clean out my locker.”
Time to run. It’s what my grandma says I do best: run from my problems instead of facing them head-on. That’s probably why I struggled so much in school. I dodged learning, and now, here we are.
“Stop,” Rogue commands, and for some reason, my body obeys. “Sit your ass back down.” Moving back to the chair, I slowly lower myself to the cushion. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell happened.”
Narrowing my eyes, I sit ramrod straight. “I didn’t steal anything. I stuffed the drawer with extra money.”
“Why?” Rogue’s tone matches his stony gaze. “Gotta say, it sounds like you were stealing, but your conscience kicked in. You were taking money from the customer’s change, weren’t you?”
“N-n-no, I swear.” Another tear escapes down my cheek. “You don’t understand.”
“Make me understand,” he snaps. “Start from the beginning. I think I’m missing a big chunk of the story here.”
I swipe the wetness from my cheeks and take a deep breath. “After the systems went down, I used my phone to make sure I was charging customers the right amount for their orders.”
“Okaaay,” he draws out.
Before I lose my courage, I throw everything at him. “I videoed Apple’s first set and put my phone down when she was done. I forgot to swipe the app up to close it and opened another without realizing it. That drained the battery. I’d been using the calculator on my phone to total tickets and give back change.” Rogue nods for me to continue. “The next time I picked it up, the battery was too low. I looked for my charger but realized I left it at home along with my backup pocket calculator.” I take several deep breaths before continuing. “Math isn’t my strong suit. Hell, it never has been, but at least when I have a calculator, I can figure it out. When my phone died, I was extra careful and even threw extra tip money into the drawer to be sure, just in case I did mess up. Waylon heard a customer yelling at me about his change because he thought I was trying to take a tip he didn’t offer. I swear Rogue, I wasn’t keeping anything that wasn’t freely given.”
“What did Waylon do when the customer accused you of keeping money?”
“He stuck around to ‘watch me’, which only made me more nervous.”
“It’s his job to make sure everything is accounted for.”
“I know, and I’m not blaming him for doing his job.” I pick at the hole in my jeans to avoid looking at Rogue. “I was trying to go slow so I wouldn’t make a mistake, but having him hover put me in panic mode, and I tried to hurry along each transaction, so I’m sure that’s when I started to mess up.”
“Luckily, this is a very rare occurrence for the computers to go down like they did,” he says. “Going forward, I’ll make sure that we have calculators placed around the bar. We should’ve had them anyway. Don’t know why I didn’t think of that sooner.”
“You probably never hired someone too stupid to do simple math before,” I grumble.
“The fuck you say?” he growled, and I flinch at his tone. “No one called you stupid. It was a mistake by everyone involved. As your boss, I could’ve been more prepared for something like this. Technology doesn’t always cooperate,” he says gently.
“We can’t all be number geniuses like you.”
He chuckles. “No, my brothers hate doing the books, and to be honest, I hate doing them if they touch them. Someone is always messing the spreadsheets up, so you’re not alone.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“Don’t let it bother you. The systems rarely go down. In the two years you’ve been here, how many times has it happened?”
It takes me a minute to answer him. “Actually, I think they went down one other time, but fortunately, I was off that day.”
“Exactly.” He shuffles some papers on his desk. “I’ll get the calculators ordered today for the bar and waitresses. I’ll pay for the expedited shipping so they should be here by tomorrow night.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.” He leans back in his chair. “Don’t you have a shift starting?”
Relief floods my system, and I jump to my feet. “See ya!” I run out of the room like my ass is on fire, and Rogue’s laugh follows me.
I scurry to the bar and help Tony get ready for the night. Tony lifts his brow in question but doesn’t ask why I was called into Rogue’s office, and I’m not about to give him anything. As far as I’m concerned, no one else needs to know about my so-called failure at math. It’s bad enough that Waylon and Rogue know.
The night speeds by pretty fast. Of course, I’m not being sabotaged by technology, so that helps. Customers are in a giving mood as well, and my pockets are increasing in size due to tips.
“Yo, Skye!” a voice shouts over the music from the other side of the bar.
I glance up from the tedious task of cleaning dirty mugs to see Possum and Knuckles taking a seat.
“Gentlemen,” I greet. “Your usual?”
They both snort, but it’s Knuckles who answers me. “Water for me. I’m training.”
I hand Knuckles a cold bottle of water from the cooler and fill a mug for Possum. “Is the gym ready to open?”
Saints Purgatory recently purchased a building in town, and they’re remodeling it into a gym. It’ll serve as a place for MMA fighters to train, as well as a standard gym for people to stay fit and take other classes like self-defense.
“Fists of Fury should be opening any day now,” Knuckles says proudly. “We’re putting on the finishing touches. We just have to get the cage up.”
“I’ve heard some of the members talking about it. Sounds like it’s going to draw in a huge crowd.”
“Oh yeah. We’re already putting the word out to start recruiting possible fighters.” Knuckles swivels on his seat when Zippy calls his name. “I’ll catch you later.”
“See ya,” I say, but he’s already halfway across the bar.
“When are you gonna let me take a go at you?” Possum asks.
Stepping back from the bar, I slide my hand into my back pocket where my knife waits. “Excuse me?”
Possum tips his head in my direction. “Your ink. When are you gonna let me have a go at your skin?”
Rolling my eyes, I place my hands back on the bar. “You really need to work on your communication skills.”
Possum’s mouth drops open as my words sink in. “Oh shit… I didn’t… Fuck, that’s not what I meant.”
For the first time today, I actually laugh. Not just at Possum but at my own stupidity.
Like any biker would want me.
I pat his arm. “No worries. I was actually thinking I needed some tattoo therapy. It’s been too long since my last one. I don’t know what I want though.” An evil smirk slowly forms on Possum’s face. “I don’t fucking think so! I know all about your little trick. I’m not coming to your chair until I know exactly what I want.”
Possum pouts. “These motherfuckers need to quit telling my secrets. They’re taking all my fun.”
Word around town is that if you enter Persuasion Ink and you’re lucky enough to have Possum do your tattoo, you better know what you want because if you don’t, he’ll put a possum on your skin. Hence, how he got his road name. No, thank you.
Suddenly, an image comes to mind.
I know what I want… how I didn’t think of this sooner, I’ll never know.
“Actually, I’ve got an idea.”
Possum pulls out his phone and scrolls through his calendar. “I can do it the day after tomorrow. Six o’clock work for you?”
“Perfect, I don’t have to work.”
“Cool.” He shoves his phone back into his pocket. “Need me to sketch something out?”
“That’s okay. I can do it.” Possum doesn’t say anything, but you can see the question in his eyes. “I draw sometimes,” I explain.
“Sounds good.” He stands and throws down a five. “I’ll see ya then. I can’t wait to get my hands on you.”
“Creepy dude, real creepy.”
Possum chuckles and heads toward the club members in the VIP section.
There are no customers at the bar when I pull out a piece of paper and start sketching. I draw a simple heart intertwined with an infinity symbol. Over the heart, I write out ‘Because of him’, and under the heart, I finish with ‘I’m always loved’. Clint was my biggest cheerleader and supporter. My grandma loves me because I’m family, but Clint loved me because he was my best friend. Now, I have a way to honor that friendship. I’ve spent years trying to figure out what to do. I thought about getting his name and the date he died tattooed on me, but it felt wrong.
I want something special, and this is it.