Roxy
“How am I three bottles short?” I mutter to myself as I move around the bar.
This place is a mess. I’ve been looking for these bottles of tequila for the last hour. I’ve pulled everything off of the shelves and spread them across the bar top.
I'm very particular about how I handle things at Savage. When I use up an entire bottle of liquor, I place it in a specific spot. I like to check it off on a spreadsheet so I know it was used. It’s the best way I’ve found to keep on top of how quickly we go through bottles and making sure I order more before we get too low.
I head outside to where the dumpster is. I know this is a long shot, but I'm hoping maybe I’ll see the bottles sitting in there. That somehow, I missed checking them off on my sheet, but this doesn’t make sense.
I stack a few boxes on top of each other and climb on top of them. I'm leaning over the edge when I hear the sound of gravel scrunching behind me.
I whip upright and glance behind me, but I don’t see anyone or anything that could’ve caused the noise. I shake my head. I'm just being paranoid. I’ve heard motorcycles drive by several times over the last thirty minutes, and I know they’re Savage Wolves.
If I'm at work, Dad has men checking in on me, just like they do for Dixie. He doesn’t need anyone to check up on Oakley since so many of the members work at Savage Motors.
I turn my attention back to the dumpster and continue looking. When I hear the sound of gravel crunching again, yet don’t find anyone, I decide I'm done. I don’t care about three bottles of tequila. Not when I feel like something’s off.
I climb off the boxes and hurry back inside. Normally I’d never bother locking the doors during the day, but I quickly flip the bolts and glance around the brightly lit bar.
My brows furrow at the sight in front of me. All of the bottles that were on the bar are smashed onto the floor. There’s no way this could’ve happened. Someone had to have been in the bar.
With shaky hands, I tug my phone out of my pocket and click on Chopper’s name.
“Hey, are you ok?” He answers on the second ring; he never makes me wait long. There’s clanking in the background and I'm sure he’s trying to work while we talk.
“Something’s going on at the bar,” I whimper.
“What do you mean?”
“I was outside looking in the dumpster because I was missing some bottles and I kept hearing gravel crunching, but no one was there. I just came inside and all of the liquor bottles I had on the bar are shattered on the ground.”
“Lock the door. I'm about twenty minutes away, I’ll call some members and get them over to you right away.”
“I did lock it,” I whisper. If Chopper’s nervous, there’s something to worry about.
“Good girl. I’ll have someone there as soon as possible. You’ll be ok, babe. I'm leaving this house now. I’ll be by your side soon.”
“I love you.”
“I love you more than life itself.”
The line goes dead and I glance around the bar again. I don’t know what to do. It seems dumb to stay inside the bar. Clearly, someone was in here and they could still be in here.
I'm about to grab my bat when there’s a knock on the door. I hesitate to answer it, unsure of whether this is a Savage member or whoever’s been tiptoeing around here today.
“Rox, open up!”
“Who is it?” I yell loud enough for them to hear me through the thick wood.
“It’s Lionel.”
“I don’t know a Lionel.” I frown. This guy can’t be serious.
“I'm one of the new prospects.”
“Prove it!”
“How do you want me to prove that?” He yells back. I hear him grumble something that sounds an awful lot like, “this woman can’t be serious. If she opened the door she’d see the cut.”
“I don’t know! But I'm not opening this door until I'm sure you’re a Savage.”
“Fine! Your boyfriend chewed me out this morning because I hit on your sister.”
I quickly unlock the door and swing it open to find Lionel on the other side. He looks completely annoyed with having to deal with me, but at least it’s someone I can trust… kind of.
“Jeez, what happened in here?” He slides his sunglasses onto the top of his head and glances around at the mess.
“I don’t know. I was outside and came in to find this.”
“Could it have happened by itself?”
“No! Someone had to be in here.”
“Ok, well, Chopper wants me to get you back to the clubhouse. Let’s go, then I can come back with some other guys and get this place cleaned up.”
“No. Someone might be in here. We need to search the place before we go. If they’re still in here, they could destroy the entire place before you get back here. No one is destroying my bar.” I fold my arms across my chest and stare him down.
“Fine, I’ll search the place. But go outside, Chopper will kill me if someone’s in here and you get hurt.”
I roll my eyes, but listen to what he says. I don’t want to be here. I feel like the hairs on the back of my neck are standing on end. Like someone is watching me.
I pace around the lot next to the dumpster, impatiently waiting for Lionel to come back out. I'm getting more and more anxious the longer I'm out here.
“How long does it take him to check a bar? It’s not that big,” I grumble.
“Probably pretty long when you get knocked out.”
I spin around at the unfamiliar voice, but before I can see him, I get hit with something in the head. I tumble to the ground as boots move closer to my face. I try my hardest to get a look at the man’s face, but another blow to my head has everything going black.