Chapter 10
Isaac is still here over two hours later, glaring at me and intentionally making things uncomfortable not just for me, but for every customer in here.
He came back in after Miles left, claiming he was just here to eat and was being treated like shit when all he wanted was a meal he planned to pay for.
Even when my regulars came in, looking at where Isaac occupied their usual seats, he refused to leave. Again, with the obnoxious claim of being a paying customer like everyone else.
When the clock rounds three hours of him being here, I let out a defeated sigh. The sting of tears burns my nose, and the frustration of the situation is getting to me.
I should never have gotten involved with him, and that is abundantly clear right now as he sits at the end of the bar, a half-eaten tuna melt in front of him.
Taking a hard breath, I look around, wondering if anyone in here would be opposed to just picking him up and tossing his ass out. But that feels extreme because while he isn’t doing anything, he’s doing everything under the fucking sun to make things weird.
No one stays in here for three hours unless Lisa has live music, and that’s usually on a Friday night. It’s a fucking Tuesday afternoon.
“What’s your endgame here?” I eventually mutter to him, standing far enough away that he can’t touch me. “You just going to sit here till my shift is over?”
“Maybe,” he responds gruffly. Shoving a hand through his hair, his eyes never leave mine, staring me down, an intimidation in them that makes my stomach churn.
How did I ever get involved with him?
It’s even crazier that he was at one time friends with Miles. Looking back on that, it feels like it was always a friendship of convenience. He was in the band with Miles. They spent a ton of time together because of that, but beyond that, I can’t see him as someone Miles would have sought out.
And now here we are, in this fucked up mess.
“Can I get you anything else?” I ask him, trying not to absolutely lose it and scream at him to leave. That’s exactly what I want to do, but that’s also what he wants.
“Yeah,” he replies, and I close my eyes, exhaling slowly while I wait for his answer. Knowing it’s going to be something that is not related to the bar.
“What’s that, Isaac?” I ask, my teeth clenched, my hand gripping the edge of the bar. I can feel the anger and frustration bubbling up inside me, hating myself for all of this. I have no one to blame but myself.
“You, Daze. Your ass bent over this bar while I fuck you,” he murmurs, low and deep, and the thought makes me want to vomit. He says it for shock value, to see the look on my face, to push me over the edge of losing it.
But I don’t. I just shake my head, not dignifying his words with a response. My face is stoic, and I walk away to serve another customer who has just come in.
We’re now at four hours, and Isaac is still here. Watching my every move, hating the way I can feel his eyes on me, practically burning a hole through my skin.
The one thing I can be thankful for is that at least he’s not drinking. He’s stone-cold sober because I’m not sure I could handle him drunk. He’s enough of a dick sober.
The bar is basically empty now but will begin to fill back in soon as the dinner crowd comes in, and I’ve got a double shift today, covering both lunch and dinner and working until close. Which means Isacc will literally be here until the doors are locked.
I look around, taking in the old pool table, and I have an idea, a stupid one, but I don’t have much else to work with.
“Hey, Isaac,” I call, leaning back against the counter behind the bar. I push off and walk over to him. “I’ll make a deal with you.” I pause, waiting for him to respond.
“Depends on what the deal is,” he hisses, a sour look on his face.
“I beat you in pool, and you get the hell out of here,” I say, motioning to the table in the center of the bar. He lets out a condescending laugh, his eyes falling to the table too.
“And what do I get when I win?” he hits back with a confidence that only he can possess.
It’s been there since the day I met him, and it’s what did him in with the band. He doesn’t have a clue what it means to be humble, and most of the time his overconfident nature is wholly misplaced. This is going to be one of those times.
“What do you want?” I respond, fully knowing what he’s going to say but never giving him the satisfaction of a smile from me.
“You know what I want, Daisy,” he growls, and again, my stomach churns, bile rising up in my throat at the idea.
“That’s not an option.” My eyes are focused on his, my head shaking in response to his words, too. “It’s either play me, and if I win, you leave, and if I don’t, then you can stay as long as you want.”
“Nothing about this sounds like a deal to me,” he hisses, pissed off that he can’t control me anymore. And honestly, I have no idea why I ever let him in the first place.
“Maybe it’s just a deal that you take so Lisa doesn’t call the police to escort you out because what you’re doing here is loitering.
” I flick my hands around to the small number of people sitting at the bar, and all of them, with the exception of Isaac, are here to eat or drink and then be on their way.
“She won’t call the police on me,” Isaac responds cockily.
“Try me,” Lisa calls out from the other end of the bar. “Take the deal, Isaac. It’s in your best interest. If you win, I’ll let you stay.”
Lisa shrugs, hitting me with a look that makes me want to laugh. She knows I’m going to kick Isaac’s ass at pool. He has no idea, though. It’s something he wouldn’t know about me because he really knows nothing about me to begin with.
When I was a kid, I’d come into Lisa’s bar with my dad. He taught me to play, telling me I could make a ton of money scamming idiot guys. It’s one of the good memories I have of him, one I hold close as a reminder that it wasn’t always bad.
“Fine,” Isaac finally concedes, and I step out from behind the bar, grabbing a stick from the rack.
“Rack them up,” I tell Isaac as I chalk the end of my cue. “You can go first so I can watch what to do. I can’t remember the last time I played.”
“You go,” Isaac says, giving a soft, condescending chuckle again. “Ladies first, right?”
Now I’m rolling my eyes. Like he’s ever been chivalrous, but I’ll take it today.
I hear Lisa let out a half-scoff, half-laugh from behind the bar, and I whip around to glare at her. Luckily, Isaac is too wrapped up in racking the balls to notice. Plus, he thinks I’m an idiot, never having seen who I really am. That girl is about to kick his ass.
“Eight ball left corner pocket,” I call, trying to keep my smile from spreading. He’s watched me call ball after ball, sinking every damn one of them.
I haven’t missed a shot, and I can tell by the look on Isaac’s face that he’s livid. His face is going red, his eyes narrowed.
Letting me go first was the biggest mistake of his life.
He hasn’t even had a chance to play, not a single shot because I haven’t missed, and I knew I wouldn’t.
Not on this table with its pitted felt that I know with my eyes closed.
The way the table leans slightly to the left, countering that with every shot.
I chose solids, and I almost laugh out loud when the eight ball slides in effortlessly, leaving the table cluttered with all stripes.
“That’s not fucking fair,” Isaac yells out, his words taking on the tone of a petulant child. “You’re a fucking ringer and you didn’t tell me that.”
“Dude, you got your ass handed to you by a girl,” a guy calls from the bar, the place erupting in laughter.
“And why did you think you could beat her?” another one asks. “If she asked you to play, you shoulda known she was gonna be good.”
“Deal’s a deal,” I now state without rubbing it in that I seriously kicked his ass, sending a silent thank you to my dad, despite hating him for what he did to our family.
I point to the door, but Isaac stays firmly rooted where he stands. A dumbfounded look on his face with his pool cue still in his hand, the way he’s been holding it since we started the game.
“Fuck that!” he now shouts, but Lisa is louder and meaner. There was no doubt in my mind or hers that I would win, or that Isaac would be a dick about it. She’s ready, and she’s done tolerating his bullshit just like I am.
She’s been doing this a long time, and she may only stand about five feet tall and weigh a hundred pounds with rocks in her pockets, but everyone in here knows not to cross her.
“Get out, Isaac,” she simply states, her words loud among the crowd now. The dinner rush has come in, and the place is busy.
“What are you gonna do?” he spits back, and that’s not the kind of shit you say to Lisa. She’s chill as hell, but piss her off and it’s over. “Call the police?”
“Nah,” she says, shaking her head, her lips curled up in a spiteful sneer. “I did one better.” She doesn’t elaborate, and even I’m questioning what she’s done.
But my thoughts are answered a few minutes later as I’m hanging up my cue. The door to the bar opens, and in walks Kai.
Isaac is still carrying on, bitching at me as if we’re alone, showing his true colors to everyone in here. And I’m waiting for at least one of these men to stand up and help me out.
“You’re a fucking whore, Daisy,” Isaac screams, and that seems to be what does it. Two of the men at the bar walk over just as Kai gets in Isaac’s face.
“You’re gonna need to leave, dude,” Kai says, calm and composed. “If Lisa’s gotta call me, it’s not gonna be good for you. Miles is the easy one, but not me.”
“What the fuck are you doing here, Kai? You high?” Isaac asks. I think it’s a rhetorical question, but Kai’s answer almost makes me burst out laughing. It would be hilarious if we weren’t in this situation right now.
“Yeah, probably am high, which is why kicking your ass isn’t going to bother me one bit,” Kai replies, still with his laid-back approach.
“I don’t have a problem with you, Kai, so let’s not make this one,” Isaac says, but that’s the wrong thing to say to Kai.
“Here’s the thing: I’m a fucking Sagittarius, which means I’m loyal as fuck to my friends and family. You fucked with my brother, and now you’re fucking with my friend, so it’s a problem now.”
Everything happens in slow motion, and before I can react, Isaac is swinging at Kai. A fist flies through the air, barely connecting with Kai’s face before Kai has Isaac by the collar of his shirt.
Dragging him out of the bar, the two men follow closely behind, and I scramble out the door right along with them.
“Just want you to remember, you took the first swing,” Kai says, laughing as he tosses Isaac onto the gravel parking lot. “So when you try to file charges against me with the police because you’re the kind of loser who would do such a thing, you hit me first.”
And as Isaac stands up, Kai nails him with a left hook right to his cheek. It knocks Isaac back, but he rights himself and lunges at Kai, and that’s when things go from bad to worse.
I watch it all play out in front of me, desperate for it to end and for Isaac to just leave. He doesn’t stand a chance against Kai.
“You can hit me as many times as you want,” Kai taunts, beckoning Isaac with a call of his hands. “But for every time you hit me, I’m hitting back, and I’m not leaving until your ass leaves.”
Isaac swings again, this time nailing Kai in the jaw, but the punch rocks Isaac, and you can tell he’s never been in a fight against anyone bigger than him. He stumbles backward, shaking his hand, the pain visible on his face, and that’s when Kai just wails on him with one solid punch.
“Enough yet?” Kai asks as blood begins to flow from Isaac’s nose, a gross pool forming on the gravel.
“Fuck you, Kai!” Isaac screams, but he pulls his shirt up, holding it against his nose. Walking to his car, he looks over his shoulder at us. “This isn’t over, Daisy.”
“Yeah, it is, dude,” Kai responds for me. “I have no problem showing up anywhere Daisy is to keep your ass from bothering her.”
We stand there watching him drive off, his tires flinging up gravel as he barrels out of the parking lot, obviously embarrassed and with a massively bruised ego. I know Kai would have waited him out even if it meant getting hit a million times. He’s just that kind of guy, and I love him for it.
Kai walks over, slinging an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. “You okay, Daze?” he asks me, a goofy smile on his face like usual. “Only two hits, and he was gone. That was way easier than I thought it was going to be.”
“I’m fine,” I reply, the lie falling from my lips with too much ease. “You didn’t have to do that. I could have handled him.”
Letting out a hearty laugh, he pulls me in for a hug. “I know you could have, and I could have called Miles, but that would have been a lot of stress for you. It’s easier for me to take the brunt of Isaac’s shit than it is for Miles or you.”
“You’re a great guy, Kai. You know that?”
“Fuck yeah, I do,” he says, laughing again. “Why don’t you go get your things and call it a night? I’m sure Lisa will understand. I’ll follow you home. My house or your mom’s?”
“Yours.”
Lisa sends me on my way but not before thanking me for the drama I brought into the bar today. A joke on her part, telling me that the bar hasn’t had that much action since she was in her twenties.
She might think it’s funny, but it’s nearly killing me. I’m exhausted beyond belief, and this feels like the longest day of my life. With first Isaac showing up, and then Miles coming in, only to have my night end with Kai basically kicking the shit out of Isaac.
It’s a fucking mess.
And to top it all off, when I drive past mine and Miles’s little red wooden building, there’s a huge sign in the front window.
Sold.
I didn’t even know it was for sale.