Chapter Five #2
Wraith sat at the end of the bar next to Ghost. He tapped his finger, and Barry looked up, making his way to Wraith. “Get me a beer.”
Barry jerked his chin, grabbed a glass, and walked over to the tap.
Wraith rested his arms on the bar, scanning the room.
He’d seen the place at maximum capacity.
Tonight it was basically dead. There were a few men seated at the opposite end and an older woman two stools down from him.
The only table occupied were three women on the other side of the room who couldn’t have been much older than Cleo.
Wraith had done his best to put all thoughts of her in the back of his mind.
His ride to clear his head that night hadn’t worked as he’d hoped.
He should’ve been solely focused on her breaking the rules.
But he wasn’t. Wraith had hurt her feelings, and he couldn’t get rid of the gnawing ache in his chest. He wasn’t soft by any means, and no one had ever referred to him as kind or nice.
And I don’t give a shit. And he didn’t when it came to everybody but Cleo.
“Who’s got a lighter?”
“Where the fuck is yours?” Oak reached in his pocket, sliding it down the bar. “Ah shit, did you lose it?”
Wraith turned his attention to Gent, who scowled and lit his cigarette. “No, asshole. I forgot to refill it before we left.” Gent tapped his chest. “I got it.”
“Has any brother ever lost theirs?” Oak asked.
He was one of the younger brothers and had only been with the club a few years.
“No,” Wraith said.
“What happens if you do?”
Wraith narrowed his gaze. “Lose yours and fucking find out.”
Wraith was one of the longest patched brothers, and he’d never heard of a member losing their club lighter. When a member patched in, they got their vest, and a symbol of the club, a lighter with the MC insignia. It was expected that every man would have it on them at all times.
Fire. It’s our specialty.
Wraith barely smelled the faint scent of smoke. But it got someone’s attention. A girl from the group at the table got up and rounded the bar, making a beeline for Gent. His brother had his back to her. She reached out, tapping her hand lightly on Gent’s shoulder.
“Excuse me.”
The corner of his mouth curled, and Gent slowly turned in his seat. His gaze perused her body, making the girl shift on her feet. He brought the cigarette up to his mouth and took a drag.
“Hey darlin’.” Gent smiled.
She shifted her gaze down the line, first Oak, and then Ghost. When she reached Wraith, he hardened his gaze, and her eyes darted back to Gent. She cleared her throat, stepping back a foot.
“I’m sorry, but you can’t smoke in here.” Her tone was assertive, which Wraith would give her credit for.
Gent cocked his head, taking another drag. He slowly blew out the smoke in her direction, and her nose twitched.
“I can’t?”
“No.” She waved the smoke from her face. “So if you don’t mind, can you go out front, or” —She pointed to the hall in the corner that led to the bathrooms— “Out back.”
Gent grinned, reaching across the bar toward the ashtray. Wraith shifted his gaze to the girl, who seemed slightly relieved. He resisted the urge to scoff. The girl was getting ahead of herself thinking Gent would put out the cigarette.
“Thank you.”
Gent grinned, tapped his ashes, and lifted the cigarette to his mouth. “You’re welcome, darlin’, but I do mind.”
Her brows knitted in a tight scowl, and her nostrils flared. “It’s the law!” She turned to Barry. “Do you want to be reported?”
Barry laughed, tossed the rag on the bar, and spread out his arms. “Take a look around, honey. Cops come in here, the last thing they’re gonna bust me on is smoke.”
The girl shook her head and stomped away, passing Cross as he was heading to the bar. He sat next to Gent and lifted his hand. A universal code for ‘get me a beer’.
Barry walked to the tap then glanced over at the front door. With very few customers, he seemed hopeful more were coming in. His scowl deepened, and his gaze shot up to the clock hanging on the wall.
“You’re fucking late.”
Wraith didn’t bother turning around when he heard the clacking of heels on the wood floor.
Dancer. The bar served two lines of clientele.
Those who wanted to drink and those who wanted to see tits and ass.
The strip club was located in the back and only accessible through the main entrance of the bar.
Whoever was coming in had to pass through.
If they were suspected cops, the bartender could quickly shut down anything illegal in the back.
Wraith never partook but he was aware of the extra services offered at the strip club.
“My son is sick and I had to pick up his prescription at the pharmacy before I left.”
“How the fuck is that my problem?” Barry snapped, walking to the end of the bar and giving Cross his beer. He braced his arms on the bar, glaring at the woman. Wraith took a long look. Mid-thirties, long light brown hair, and a curvy body. She probably did well at the strip club.
She stopped at the end of the bar and slowly turned. “If you don’t want it to be your problem, then don’t ask any questions. It’s twenty minutes. I’ll make it up at the end of my shift.”
Barry dropped down to his elbows and curled his finger for her to come forward. She took two steps, seemingly unbothered and unintimidated.
“I can think of another way you can make it up.”
The woman snorted, rolling her eyes. “I’m sure you can. But as I’ve told you over a dozen times, my talent only extends to a PG-13 greeting, cashing out registers, and dealing with the occasional unruly customer.”
Barry straightened and lifted his chin toward the back hallway. “Get your ass back there ’cause now you owe me twenty-five minutes.”
She shook her head, smirking, but didn’t say another word.
“I should fire her ass.”
“It’s a great ass,” Cross said, watching the woman walk into the back.
“Why the fuck do you think she’s still here.” Barry looked over at Ghost when he lifted his hand.
“You selling those?” Ghost gestured to the counter below the shelves of alcohol.
There was a small jewelry stand with bracelets hanging off the prongs. Barry looked over at Ghost then to the counter.
“My daughter’s shit.” He glared at the small stand as if he had a vendetta against it. His lips twisted, and he shook his head with a disgruntled grunt. “She started up some little business, and now my wife’s got me pushing that stuff in the bar.”
“She sell a lot of them?” Oak’s lips twitched. They all knew the answer, and Barry’s scowl confirmed it.
“Take a look around. This clientele look like the type who’s buying fucking jewelry? I’m lucky if these shitheads are wearing shirts.”
Wraith grabbed his beer, taking a sip and watching Ghost stare at the bracelets.
“How much?” Ghost asked.
Barry cocked his brow. “You serious?”
Ghost nodded, and Barry walked to the corner, eyeing him. He bent down, peering at the card next to the stand.
“Ten bucks each.”
Ghost shifted on his stool, digging into his back pocket and pulling out his wallet. He flipped it open, pulled out a fifty, and tossed it on the bar.
“Give me five.”
Wraith shared a look with Gent, who seemed amused. Who the hell was he buying jewelry for? There were a lot of women who hung around the club, but none worth claiming. Except one. Mine.
Barry snatched the bill and pointed to the display.
“Which ones?”
Ghost waved his hand. “I don’t care. Just grab five.”
Wraith stared over at Ghost but the brother kept his eyes on Barry.
“You sweet on one of the whores, Ghost?” Gent taunted.
Ghost stuck up his middle finger. “Fuck off.”
That got a roaring reception from Oak and Cross. Wraith stayed neutral, though he was curious. He hadn’t paid much attention to who his brothers spent time with when it came to the women. Nor was he interested.
Barry grabbed the first five and bent down, getting a plastic bag and putting them in it. He walked over, laying it on the counter with a severe scowl marring his face.
“I’d thank you, but now my kid is going to think she’s making money here. My old lady’s gonna force my ass to keep that shit around.” Barry shook his head and walked away, muttering, “Dick!”