14. Char
CHAR
“We should do something.”
“The fuck we gonna do? Bury him?”
“They already did that.”
“Don’t say that shit. Shut the fuck up.”
“Who’s gonna contact his mother?”
“Did anyone know her?”
“That’ll be Deacon’s job.”
“Jesus, that poor woman.”
“Maybe she won’t even remember him. Maybe her dementia?—”
“Shut. The fuck. Up.”
The more I listened, the more I hurt. They had lost one of their own.
Baitfish… was gone. My heart shattered into a million pieces as I stood inside of the kitchen, gazing out across the bar through the snapshot window.
Dallas lifted his fork mechanically to his lips while Gauge stared at the wall over everyone’s heads.
Deac was hunched over, inhaling his food as he shoveled it in with a spoon, barely stopping to breathe.
I couldn’t imagine their pain.
Well, technically…
“Thanks, Miss Char.”
A young man’s voice pulled me out of my trance, and I picked up the dirty dishes he set in the kitchen window.
“Just Char is fine,” I said with a kind smile.
The boy snickered. “Mama wouldn’t think so.”
I clocked his accent. “Tennessee?”
He simply nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“What’s your name?”
“Daryl. But everyone here calls me Deadlock.”
“Well, Deadlock,” I said as I walked his dishes to the sink, “you’re welcome to eat more food if you’re hungry. And drinks.”
“I appreciate that, Miss Char.”
His politeness was such a stark contrast to the rest of the guys that it made me smile.
But when I glanced over at him, that thousand-yard stare already took over his features.
He mindlessly turned away from the window, his brain already captivated by something else as his body gravitated away from me.
I watched him as he went and sat back down at a table full of silent men.
Only for me to realize that the bar had gone eerily silent.
Outside of the chomping of jaws and guzzling of drinks, there was no sound.
No talking. No laughing. No crying. No anger.
Nothing. The silence stood all of the hairs up on my arms, simply because it felt so…
wrong. Bottle Grounds was always full of life.
Maybe not patrons, but certainly life. And there was never any shortage of personality around the place.
But as I stood there, scooping up dirty dishes as they came toward me, I couldn’t help but breathe through the pain as memories of losing my mother came rushing back.
“Oh, Mama,” I whispered as tears sprang to my eyes.
I wanted to do more for them, but I didn’t have a clue as to what I could do.
So I cleaned. I fed them, I stuffed them full of drinks, and I didn’t hold them liable for the messes they left behind.
If I wasn’t cleaning dishes, I loaded the sanitizing rack before wiping down tables.
If there weren’t more drinks to be made, then there were glasses to clean and liquor bottles to replace.
I saw some of the guys coming out of the stockroom with bottles stuck underneath their arms, and I turned a blind eye.
I watched as a couple of the guys rummaged around for to-go trays before heading out the front door, and I gave them the space they needed to get what they wanted.
I couldn’t stop looking over at the guys, though. At Gauge, and Deac, and Dallas.
All three of them looked so… tired.
I lost myself in the monotony of it all, though.
In the even way the strokes against the stainless steel countertop soothed my eyes as they faded away.
I lost myself in the rhythmic wiping of tables and booths while the smell of freshly-cooked food dissipated.
I wanted to stick around until each and every one of them were gone.
I didn’t want anyone sitting in the bar, eating and drinking by themselves.
There were enough lives lost.
“Need a hand?”
I paused the loading of the sanitizing rack at the sound of Dallas’s voice. “With what?”
I heard the kitchen double doors flapping against one another. “With cleaning.”
I shook my head as I focused on the task at hand. “Oh, no. I’m good.”
His shadow cloaked me from behind. “You sure?”
I peeked over my shoulder before raising my gaze to his. “I’m sure. You go be with your guys. It’s been a hell of a day for all of you.”
I should’ve known he wouldn’t listen, though. Because instead of him backing away to head for his bike, he reached around my body and moved the sanitizing rack away from my grasp.
“Dallas,” I said softly.
“Give me a job, Char.”
The pain in his voice was too much to bear. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
So I stepped out of the way and pointed to the sink. “That’s the last of the dishes that need to be sanitized. Then it’s just a matter of putting them up.”
“On it.”
“I’ll get started on wiping down the rest of the stainless steel surfaces. DeShawn’s always weird about making sure they’re extra clean.”
“Makes him good at his job.”
I smiled softly. I missed my best friends. I needed to call them soon. God only knows what the hell they were up to since being informed that the bar was closed until further notice. It felt like ages since the three of us last talked, even though it was only a few days.
It felt like a fucking lifetime passed since the guys came swirling into our lives.
Still, Dallas and I fell into a groove. We danced around one another while he searched for the last of the dirty dishes and I wiped down surfaces he touched.
It was like a tango, with our feet moving across the floor as if it were ice.
I leaned into the massive sinks and scrubbed them down.
I reached over the wide countertops and scrubbed the backsplash.
I swear, I really knew how to make a mess when cooking.
So much so that when I looked down, I found that my shirt was soaking wet.
“Jesus,” I muttered as I wiped haphazardly at my chest.
“You could just take it off, you know.”
I snickered as I tossed the wet rag into the sink. “Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Dallas paused. “Actually, yeah. I would.”
I slowly turned to face him and watched him shove the empty sanitizing rack into its rightful place.
“The distraction would be nice,” he murmured.
I tilted my head. “Dallas?”
“Yep?”
“Look at me.”
He peered over at me, and the intensity of his stare rooted me to my spot. “Yes, Char?”
He was right.
The distraction would be lovely.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
He turned his body to face mine. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
With our eyes locked, I grabbed the hem of my shirt.
I peeled it over my head, wiggling my sweating body out of it before dropping the drenched fabric onto the stainless-steel countertop.
Dallas’s hungry stare raked down my body, his eyes darkening with every inch that he combed over.
My chest rose and fell with my steady breathing.
I needed to keep in control. If for any reason he had to back out, I wanted to be of a decent enough mindset to listen.
“Like this?” I asked breathlessly.
Dallas abandoned his post as he approached me. “Yeah. Just like that.”
The last few steps he took toward me were furious.
They clomped against the floor as he scooped his arms around my waist, pulling me close against his body.
I gasped at the feel of his muscles pressing into my excess.
His mouth, hovering over mine as his gaze danced along my face.
With his muscles pulsing and his cock reaching out for me, he hoisted me off the floor and placed my ass on top of the countertop I just cleaned.
My legs parted effortlessly for him as he stepped forward.
And when his lips touched mine, the delicateness of his movements held me hostage.
“Dallas,” I whispered.
He captured my lips, his hands roaming my bare back before his fingertips found the snaps of my bra.
With a flick of his fingers, my breasts were freed, and his lips pressed warm, wet kisses down my jaw.
My pulse point shivered at the delicate strokes of his tongue.
My breasts hung against my body, my nipples puckering with every touch of his fingers against their softness.
My skin flushed for him. My legs spread for him.
He maneuvered my body, easing my jeans away from my hips and down my legs.
He picked me up when needed and placed me down as if I were a porcelain doll he was charged with protecting.
And as he drew one of my puckered peaks between his lips, his fingertips danced along the damp cotton of my panties.
“Now this just won’t do,” he murmured into my skin.
He grabbed my legs and pulled my ass toward the edge of the countertop.
“Dallas,” I gasped as my back fell against the backsplash of the wall. “What in the?—”
I felt him move away and the rush of cold air that accompanied his absence made me shiver. Through half-hooded eyes, I watched his shadow gravitate away as my hand reached out for him.
“Dallas?” I asked softly. “Are you all right?”
And instead of him answering, the sound of a chair scraping across the floor sounded out instead.
I propped myself up onto my elbows long enough to watch him drag a chair from across the room.
He walked toward me, his gaze locked with my almost-bare pussy as he moved the chair in front of me.
He hiked up his jeans a bit and sat down as if he were about to sit down at a desk and get to work.
He scooted himself in between my legs, his body relaxed back into that chair as he slid my legs over his shoulders.
“Dallas?” I asked.
He reached for my panties and pulled them off to the side. “Yes, Char?”
But when he flickered his heated gaze up to mine, the question got caught in my throat. I wanted to ask him what he was doing. I wanted to ask him if he needed me to do anything. I wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to do this. That it shouldn’t be me who got to enjoy things, but him.
However, my voice got caught in my throat at the hunger that dripped over his features.
“That’s what I thought,” he said as a cocky grin crossed his cheeks.
He bent forward and lapped his tongue the entire way up my slit.