Chapter 8
SKYLAR
Mack, the old man who owns this bar, is the father I’ve adopted as my own.
His father handed down the establishment when Mack was twenty-one, and he has been running it for the past thirty-five years.
Originally, I applied for the bartender position he had listed when I arrived in Golden Heights, but being the nice man he is, Mack pointed me in the direction of Capital Vice.
He told me I could make a lot more money at the club than I could in his bar.
I appreciated his honesty and have made sure to visit him at least once a month since then just to chat.
We’ve become close, our relationship similar to a father and daughter or a grandfather and granddaughter.
“Hey, pumpkin! How are you?” Mack yells from behind the bar, immediately dropping what he’s doing and coming up to give me a bear hug.
He hugs me tight; his embrace is that of a loving father who’s seeing his daughter after being apart for too long.
Or at least, this is what I would assume it would feel like.
“Hey, Mack. I’m good. Sorry it’s been so long,” I apologize, my head resting perfectly on his chest as he holds me close to him.
“Oh, don’t do that. No apologies. I’m happy you’re here.
” Pulling away from me, he rests his hands on my shoulders, looking down at me with his bright green eyes.
“You look great, girl. You here meeting someone? A man maybe?” Mack wriggles his eyebrows at the mention of a possible date, but I quickly shake my head.
“Nah, just here to ask for a favor, actually.” I hate asking Mack for anything, but I need this if I’m going to get the edge on Damien.
“Name it, pumpkin.”
“Would you mind if I sat in your office and watched your surveillance for a bit?” It’s cryptic as fuck, but Mack knows my background with the Hellstorms and rarely asks me for details when it comes to my shady favors. Tonight is no different.
“Of course, help yourself. But first, should I be worried? You’re not in trouble or anything, are you?”
“Oh no, I’m not in trouble, but someone will be.” I give him my sweetest smile.
“That’s my girl. You know where it’s at.” He grabs his office keys out of his pocket and hands them over to me. “Want a drink or anything?”
“No, I’m okay. Thank you though.”
“Nonsense, I’ll have Charlie leave a plate of food for you at the door.
I’ll tell him to knock once and leave it on the table beside the door for ya.
” Mack is already making his way back to the bar and begins typing in an order of food on his monitor at the register. I smile as I watch Mack type away.
The bar only has two customers occupying a table in the far-left corner.
The two older women sit, talking and picking through a plate of fried pickles.
This bar is rundown, but the customers are regulars, and the atmosphere of this place is cozy.
A close-knit community supporting a local business.
Mack has really put his heart and soul into his bar, making sure every customer is comfortable and feels welcome.
Remembering why I’m here, I make my way to Mack’s office, the last door on the left at the end of the small hallway.
Putting the key in the handle, I unlock the door and push it open.
His office is small—a desk, his computer, and a large screen against the side wall that’s currently displaying the four camera views of the bar.
Three inside and one in the parking lot.
I round the desk and pull out the roller chair, sitting down and getting comfortable.
Leaning back, I look over the contents on Mack’s desk, the small picture frame drawing my attention immediately.
Grabbing the photo, I brush my fingers down the faces of his late wife, Macy, and his daughter, Emily.
Twenty years ago, Mack and his family were driving to the coast for a long weekend beach getaway when a drunk driver veered over the yellow line, hitting Mack head on.
Macy and Emily died on impact. Mack suffered severe spinal injuries, as well as having to be placed in a coma due to swelling in the brain.
He’s lucky he survived. However, after waking up, he learned he lost his whole family, his life, his world. Emily would have been my age this year.
A lone tear slides down my cheek. Why do the worst things happen to the best people?
“No tears, pumpkin. I’ll see them again one day.” Startled by Mack’s voice, I look up and see him carrying a plate of buffalo wings and a side of fries. I quickly wipe away the tear and place the frame back on his desk. I hadn’t even heard the door open.
“I’m sorry, Mack, I didn’t—” I’m cut off.
“What have I told you about apologizing?” His warm smile makes me smile as well. Placing the food in front of me, he points at it.
“Now eat. You need to get a little more meat on your bones.” I snort out a laugh and stand from his chair, rounding the desk and hugging him once again.
“Now, what’s this for?” he asks me, resting his chin on my head.
“Just needed an extra hug from you, that’s all.” Mack squeezes me a little harder.
“I needed another one too, kid.” We stay like this for a long moment, two broken souls. An unlikely friendship that I thank God for every day. I love Mack, and I know he loves me too. He’s the father figure I never had, and I’m a daughter he lost many, many years ago.
“You know, sometimes I think God sent you to this bar to help mend a broken man’s heart.” I don’t reply. I just nod my head into Mack’s chest. If God sent me to him, then he also sent him to me.
“Now, whatever you’re doing, do you need my help?” he asks me as he steps back and gives me a look of concern.
“I think I can handle it tonight but know that there will be a man here tonight with a girl named Chastity.”
“The other bartender from Vice?” he asks, his head cocking to the side.
“That’s the one.”
“Got it. Is this man someone I need to show to the dumpster or what?” I laugh at his protectiveness and smile at this reference to the dumpster. Because, unbeknownst to Mack, that’s exactly where Damien will end up tonight.
“I got it all planned out.” I give him a wink. Giving a nod of his head, he leans down and gives me a kiss on my head, before turning and heading towards the door.
“Before you sneak out the back, eat your food and come by again soon when the bar’s closed. We need to catch up. I need to know all the hot gossip from Vice.”
“Will do, Mack,” I say to him and give him a smile as I watch him leave me in his office alone.
Taking a seat back in the chair, I pull the plate of food to me and dig in.
Buffalo wings are my favorite, especially the ones Charlie makes.
Taking a big bite, I groan as the flavors burst across my taste buds and bring me a sense of happiness.
Eating two more wings in quick succession, I keep my eyes on the monitors when a man with a black and white flannel walks through the doors. I freeze.
It’s him.
He’s here.
I wipe my hands on a napkin Mack placed under my plate and lean in closer to the monitor.
Damien heads straight to the bar, pulling out a stool and raising a hand towards Mack.
I can’t hear what they say, but I watch as Mack grabs a Modelo out of the cooler and flips the cap off before sliding it to Damien.
I don’t miss the look Mack gives the camera I’m currently watching.
He knows. He knows this is the man I’m here for.
Not only is he not a regular to Mack’s, but he’s also sporting a large H tattoo on his forearm below his rolled-up sleeves.
Mack gives the camera a slight nod, and I smile at him as if he can see me too.
Moments later, I see familiar bright blond hair enter through the doors, and I know it’s Chastity.
She has no idea who Damien is, or why I asked her to do this for me, but she’s one of my few and closest friends here in town.
She agreed instantly. And here she is, sexy as hell in tight leather pants, black heels, and a micro tank top that’s pushing her tits so far up her chest I can’t help but stare at them through the camera.
That’s my girl.
Damien turns around, locking eyes on Chastity, and I roll my eyes as he gives her a sleazy smile, his eyes roaming up and over her body.
Dirtbag.
She takes the stool beside Damien as they start the usual first date conversations.
I told Chastity the plan for tonight already.
She’s going to talk to Damien, get him comfortable and relaxed.
After they start feeling cozy, she is going to suggest leaving the bar and bring him out to the parking lot straight to my car.
Once they get to my car, she is going to tell him that she left her phone at the bar and head back in.
That’s it. That’s all the obligation she has because the moment she gets back inside, Damien is all mine.
I watch the pair chat for the next fifteen minutes, Damien reaching over and sliding his hand up and down Chastity’s leg.
I force myself to swallow and not let the bile escape my throat while watching his touchiness with her.
I make a mental note to buy her a long spa day for her troubles tonight and continue watching.
She leans into Damien and whispers something into his ear, and that’s my cue to get my ass to the parking lot.
I stand and immediately leave the office, heading down the remainder of the hallway and sneaking out the back door. My car is parked along the side of the building, so I’m able to get to my car before Damien and Chastity even leave the bar. I crouch behind my Mazda and wait.
The faint sounds of Chastity giggling have my muscles tensing. The moment I’ve been waiting for is about to arrive. My revenge against Damien is the one I’ve been planning for the longest, and I can’t hide my excitement. My nerves and body are buzzing.
“Oh dammit, I left my phone on the bar. Can you wait here for a moment, and I’ll be right back?” Chastity says with her sweetest voice.
“Want me to go get it? I don’t mind.”
“Ever the gentleman, but I can get it, just stay by my car. I’ll be two seconds.” I smile at her response. She’s good. I’ll give her that. I wait until I hear the bar doors close behind her and give the parking lot a quick scan. There’s nobody, just him and me.
“Damien, long time no see,” I say as I stand to my full height behind him.
Damien is in the middle of lighting a cigarette when he turns towards me, but I don’t wait for his response.
I lift my hand and plunge the needle I had ready into his neck, depressing the plunger and filling this piece of shit with a heavy dose of tranquilizer.
I filled the syringe with more drugs than necessary, but rage will do that, and there was no way I was going to fuck this opportunity up.
Damien hits the pavement with a loud thud, and I step back just in time for him to miss colliding with my feet.
I pull out my keys and quickly pop my trunk before I grab his legs and start dragging him to the back of my car.
This fucker is heavy, and as I struggle to pull him the short distance to my trunk.
I silently curse myself for not drugging him closer to my car.
It takes all my strength to lift Damien’s upper body up and across my tailgate.
With half his body in the trunk, I bend down, grabbing his legs, and hoist him the rest of the way in.
I’m fucking sweating but pat myself on the back that I was actually able to lift his dead weight.
I slam the trunk closed as I swipe my hands together, smiling at a job well done.
“Well, this was quite a show to watch, tesoro.” Before I can turn around, thick arms wrap around my waist and hoist me in the air, pinning my arms to my sides. I’m spun in the air, coming face-to-face with the only person who could possibly ruin my plans for revenge.
Saxon fucking Wilder.
Which means the person currently rendering me immobile in a vise grip is none other than his guard dog, Saint.
Perfect.