Chapter 1
Eight years later. Present Day.
“Well, it’s about fucking time, Marv. My regulars are threatening to stone me to death. You can throw them in the back. Next to the other cases.” I sign the clipboard before handing it back to him.
“Sorry, Cherry. We’ve had three delivery trucks hit this month. It’s getting rough out there.” Marv’s been at this a long time. He’s old, weathered, and weary. But lately, he just seems dejected. Too poor to retire, and too proud to complain about the shitty working conditions.
I sigh as I shove a steaming hot, foil-wrapped burger into his calloused hands. “For the road. Stay safe out there, Marv. Ain’t no amount of liquor worth dying over. You get held up, let them have it all. That’s what these big corporations have insurance for.”
He nods. “Thanks, honey, but they’re hitting the small businesses just the same. Anyhow, you be careful too. No offense to your daddy, but not even holy water’s gonna keep these thieves away.”
I hold up the bat I have stashed behind my bar. “Don’t you worry, Marv. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time.”
He chuckles. “I feel sorry for the schmuck who gets on your bad side.”
If he only knew the truth. That dark cloud returns, but I disassociate like usual. “Yeah, better not. My fuse is getting shorter and shorter these days.”
He thanks me again for the burger before heading back out to his rig.
It’s one of the few newer looking ones parked out there.
The rest of my vendors tend to pull up in semis that look like they’re being held together with duct tape.
Times are tough and people are cutting corners.
The increase in prices isn’t helping either.
I’m met with an onslaught of cheers when I drag out a case of Lavender Heights ale from the back. It’s been on order for weeks with no estimated delivery date in sight. My regulars were threatening to go track it down themselves. It ain’t cheap, so not having it was killing my bottom line.
“All right, relax,” I tell them. I set three down on the bar with chilled pint glasses for Hal and his buddies.
They come every Wednesday after church. Only in a town like ours do people go to church on more than just Sundays.
They drive straight here, pulling up at 10:55 am on the dot, five minutes before I open.
I’d love to open the doors earlier to get more of that breakfast crowd, but my daddy would have my head.
You can’t let grown men choose between God and liquor, Cherry.
They’ll choose the devil’s drink every time.
I hear his voice in my head again, reminding me anytime I bring it up.
One of the drawbacks of being the preacher’s daughter.
So, I agreed to open later, lest I interfere with his random midweek services.
And don’t even get me started on Sundays. I’m not allowed to open at all. That’s the Lord’s day, Cherry. Honestly, I’m not too mad at it. It forces me to take at least one day off. God knows I’d work all seven if I could.
It’s a miracle he didn’t disown me for buying the bar to begin with.
But I’m all he’s got in this world, and no one else is gonna wipe his ass when he’s too old to do it himself.
It took some getting used to. Having an arcade and a small food menu helped soften the blow.
But he loves to remind me every chance he gets that I’ve got one foot in heaven and one in hell.
“Hey, Cherry, give us three cheeseburgers and a big bowl of those famous cheese fries,” Hal orders.
“And extra ketchup or this one will hog it all for himself,” Jerry chides.
I chuckle and nod, used to their abrasiveness. It’s not that they’re rude, it’s just the way we talk to each other around here. It’s casual and lived in. No need to fuss with formalities. We’re all here to live and get by just the same.
“Coming right up.” I jog to the back and throw a few hamburger patties onto the grill before dumping a bag of pre-cut fries into the hot oil basket.
Level Up is a simple place. It’s small and outdated, but I keep it clean and running.
I can’t afford to hire anyone, so I do it all myself.
I was lucky enough to find my grill and fryer at an auction for a good price.
There’s also a decent walk-in freezer to store product.
It’s not much, but at least it’s all mine.
I paid off the loan when I turned twenty-one with the money from my momma’s life insurance policy.
My daddy had put it in a trust for me when I was a kid.
He was hesitant to give me it at first. He wanted me to use it for college or trade school.
But Level Up has always been my dream. And he knows that.
Besides, once he saw that college was gonna cost a whole lot more than a shitty dive bar in Crimson Valley, he conceded real quick.
As for the land it’s on, it comes pretty cheap. We’re in an old strip mall owned by some company that doesn’t even have an office here. So, I don’t have to worry about any landlords crawling up my ass. I send them their check every month and they don’t bother me.
I load the plates on a push cart and roll it out to them at the bar. “You cheating at cards again, Hal?”
He scowls at me while Jerry and Abe laugh. “You know he is, Miss Cherry,” Abe quips.
I take care of another regular at the other end of the bar, a college girl, little younger than me, who posts up in the corner reading every weekend. Today, her eyes are glued to a worn copy of Jane Eyre. The plastic’s even still on it from the old Crimson Library that burned down.
I set her usual down in front of her—a bowl of cheese fries, ranch dressing, and a glass of white wine to wash it all down with. “Here ya go, Lila. Holler if you need anything else.”
“Thanks Cherry.” She smiles warmly. It’s customers like her who keep me afloat.
I laugh and joke around with Hal and his buddies as I cut up the rest of my bar fruit for the day.
Limes for gin and tonics, lemon twists for the occasional martini order, and my namesake, luscious red cherries.
See I don’t buy the cheap kind that dye the inside of your stomach.
No, I order the fancy ones from Italy. I gotta have at least one bougie element to class up the place.
As I drop the fruit into their respective trays, a hint of chrome catches my eye through the front window. Wow, what a fucking beauty. With its shiny rims, glossy black paint, and roaring dual exhaust, I watch as it slides into the parking spot next to mine.
I squint through the glass, battling with the glare to try and get a look at who’s behind the wheel. When the driver’s door swings open, a man gets halfway out and leans against the frame.
My stomach flips.
No fucking way.
“You all right, Cherry? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Hal and his buddies snicker.
“That’s because I fucking have.” I move from behind the bar to the window and peer out to get a closer look. I gotta make sure my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me.
My breath hitches. It’s him. There’s no fucking doubt. When he catches me staring through the window, his whole body tenses.
We lock eyes and it feels like my heart’s about to cave in. He can crush me with just one look. Always. Since we were kids. And he knows it. He knows every thought and every emotion I have before I even know I’m having it.
I leave the bar and walk over to where he’s parked, ignoring the rapid rise of my heartbeat. I try to push it down as he looks at me like he’s seeing into my fucking soul. I beg my cheeks to cool, to stop flushing. Please.
“How long have you been in town?” I ask breathlessly. I’m annoyed with myself for being so winded.
“We just got in last night. This all yours?” He points his finger toward the bar. With his sleeves rolled up, I can see three of the many tattoos I watched him get. Every piece, a different memory that shatters me.
I nod. “Yeah, you want a drink?”
“Not right now. I’ll be back later tonight. We have a lot to talk about, Cherry. But I need to take care of some other shit first.” He lights a cigarette and leans back against the driver’s side of his black muscle car.
Straight to the point as usual. “I live above the bar, so I’ll be here all night… It’s been eight years, Hawk. No one’s seen or heard from you. Where the fuck have you been?” I’m trying desperately not to let him see me shake, but I’m seething.
He gives me that familiar look of disbelief. Hawk never trusted anyone or anything, including me. Especially me. Looks like that still rings true. “We’ll get into it later. You’ve done well for yourself, Cherry. You still going to your daddy’s sermons?”
I hate the way he dismisses me. Even after all this time, it still gets under my skin.
“Nah. It’s better for both of us if I don’t show my face there.
The Lord has enough sinners in his house.
He doesn’t need one who can’t be redeemed.
” I clench the bar rag in my fist like it’s one of those stress balls, grateful that I held onto it before strolling out here.
Hawk gapes at me, a flicker of remembrance in his eyes. He stubs his cigarette out on the pavement before stuffing the butt into the pocket of his jeans. He points toward the bar again. “Be here when I get back, Cherry. If I have to track you down later…”
“I told you I’ll be here. Is my word not good enough for you anymore?” I snap. I fucking hate it when he gets like this.
He sighs. “Keep the kitchen open for us. Omen and Scarrow will be hungry.” Another dismissal.
I snicker. “Excuse me? You don’t get to boss me around. I’m not a kid anymore, Hawk.”
He glares at me again before hopping back into his car.
“I know it’s been a while, so let me remind you.
You fucking owe me. And you know what happens to those who fail to pay their debts to us.
So bite that pretty tongue of yours and play nice, little sis.
I’m back, and I’m not going anywhere for a while. ”
My stomach flips. “I can pay you now, Hawk. I’m not rich, but I have some money saved. Just name your price so we can squash this.”
He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “As I told you then, I don’t want your money. I want your loyalty, your obedience, and your fucking submission. The way I see it, you owe me your freedom. Which means I own you. But then you always knew that, didn’t you, Cherry?”
My heart feels like it’s going to bottom out. A memory flashes in my mind. I’m touching myself in the mirror while he watches. While he tells me where to put my fingers next. “We can work this out, Hawk. Just be reasonable. Please.”
He shakes his head. “Oh, we’re gonna work this out all right.”
I nearly choke on his exhaust when he starts the engine. Part of me wants to run away. To close up the bar and make myself scarce for a while. But I know him better than anyone. Even better than he knows himself. He won’t stop until he finds me.
That’s why I’ve never bothered to run before. I’ve just been here like a sitting duck waiting for him. And now that he’s back, I regret that decision. I should’ve at least tried to start over. Like Roxy did. She met a man who adores her, and they made a nice life together in Lavender Heights.
Sometimes I wish I had someone looking out for me like Roxy does. The way Hawk used to. But then I remember that a love like that isn’t in the cards for me…
Hawk is harder, colder, than he was before. But I’m not that wild girl he grew up with. I’m still unhinged, but these past eight years have taught me a lot about patience and humility. I have more to lose now than I ever did back then.
I know I owe him for more than just that night at the murder house. But he owes me too. For making me feel like this every time he comes around. For turning me into that desperate pick me girl that he loves to push around.
I flip him off with both hands before he drives off. He rolls down the window and returns the gesture before peeling out of the parking lot.
“Asshole,” I mutter under my breath.
“Hey, Cherry, can we get another round while we’re still young?” Hal calls out.
“I’m coming. Hold your horses, or I’ll call your wife and tell her you’re here instead of at bingo,” I yell back. That shuts him up. He still grumbles as he shuffles back inside though.
I take a deep breath and try to gather myself before heading back in. Fuck, this is going to be a long fucking night. It’s going to take everything I have to put on a happy face for the next eight hours. With each second, the anxiety grows like a pit in my stomach.
I’d be lying to myself if I thought Hawk was going to forget about my debt to him. A girl can dream. But I even stopped looking over my shoulder after that second year went by with no sign of him.
Eight. Fucking. Years. Now that’s what I call a blindside. Anyone in their right mind would think it was over at this point. That he was never coming back for me. Well, fuck me and fuck him.
But what really pisses me off is that he brought the other two with him.
Omen and Scarrow. I don’t know them. Sure they helped that night but they ain’t family.
They’re not even locals. I never asked Hawk how he ended up with them.
Not that he’d tell me anyway. I’m assuming they all met in prison. Another thing I’m to blame for.
I make drinks on auto pilot, nodding and smiling but not really hearing what’s going on around me. All I can think about is how Hawk is going to ruin everything tonight.