Chapter Three #2
Sometimes Dylan still questioned why she had come back to Oak Grove of all places.
She had a small, cramped apartment and a job at her uncle’s bar.
The only way she was better off than when she lived in Richmond was that she didn’t have a loser boyfriend.
Honestly, she shouldn’t even be considering another relationship just yet.
Ah, but Jason made her want things. Right now, it would be worth it if he’d walked through that door again.
Instead, the door opened and the temperature in the room shifted.
A group of Cottonmouths swaggered in like they owned the place.
Coiled snakes on their cuts, the boots, the body language, the presence.
And then she saw her uncle, Eli. He caught sight of her instantly and gave a nod.
He moved toward the bar, toward her, while the rest of his crew scattered to their usual table like hyenas to a carcass.
“Didn’t expect to see you tonight,” Eli said, taking a seat at the bar, expression unreadable.
“I’m scheduled,” Dylan replied, grabbing a clean glass and setting it in front of him. “Same as last week.”
“You know this place gets rough after dark.” His voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent. He wasn’t just making conversation.
“I can handle rough,” she said, meeting his eyes. “You never gave me a chance to tell you about my work experience.”
Eli gave a short, dry laugh as she poured him a beer. “You’re a Crizer, I’ll give you that. Stubborn as fuck.”
He watched her a moment longer, then lowered his voice just enough to make her lean in. “You’re smart. You’ve got options. You don’t need to be here, Dylan.”
“I want to be here.”
Her uncle’s eyes narrowed at her. “Wanting something doesn’t mean it’s good for you.”
Before she could answer, one of the guys at the table hollered for a round of beers, and Eli pulled back, voice lighter. “Go take care of them.”
She nodded, forcing a polite smile as he walked to their table.
But her stomach dropped after that very short conversation.
She could have assumed that his advice was meant to keep her safe and protect her.
But that wasn’t what it felt like. It felt like a warning.
And the way he said it left a cold weight in her stomach she couldn’t shake.
Why was he trying to warn her? Was there something going on that she wasn’t supposed to know about?
Dylan got a round of beers ready, carrying the tray over with practiced ease, balancing bottles and short glasses like second nature. The laughter at the table swelled as she approached. They were the kind of sounds men made when they were trying to look like they ran the room.
“Careful there, sweetheart,” Trucker said as she leaned in to set down the drinks. “Don’t spill any on me. This jacket’s older than you.”
Dylan gave him a tight smile, unfazed. “Then maybe don’t lean so close to the edge of the table.”
That got a few snickers from the others. Grudge, lounging with his boots up, muttered something to Creep beside him, and they exchanged a glance. “Girl’s got teeth,” Eagle said, louder this time. “Might want to watch that.”
Eli didn’t say a word.
What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
Setting down the last glass, Dylan turned to walk away when she caught it, almost a whisper.
Trucker kicked him hard under the table as she started walking.
Creep leaned toward the center of the table, voice pitched just above a whisper. “Midnight drop is behind the lot again. Same place as last week. Crates are marked.”
Dylan didn’t stop walking, and hoped to God she didn’t give any indication she’d heard anything.
But the words lodged in her brain like a splinter.
What was happening at midnight that the big bad bikers had to whisper about?
She didn’t know what any of it meant, but the tone used wasn’t bar business.
Back behind the counter, Dylan took a slow breath and focused on restocking straws just to keep her hands busy. She didn’t know why but she just couldn’t get the coded comment out of her head.
Uncle Eli hadn’t said a word when they talked to her like that. He hadn’t even blinked when they tossed around whatever the hell that was. And for the first time since taking this job, Dylan wondered if her uncle had been trying to protect her from whatever shady shit was going on there.
Or trying to keep her from seeing too much.
The crowd came in even though her uncle and his men stayed a long time.
It was almost ten before they left. Once the bar began emptying out, she stepped outside for a quick break.
The cool night air bit her skin as she leaned against the brick wall out back.
The door shut behind her with a thud, cutting off the noise from inside. Much better.
Pulling out her phone, Dylan’s thumb hovered for a long minute before she typed out a text to Jason.
Dylan: you ever get the feeling you’re not supposed to hear something?
It didn’t take him long to reply.
Jason: you okay?
Staring at the screen for a second, she debated how much to say.
Dylan: yeah. just… weird vibe at work tonight. uncle showed up with his crew. it was weird.
There was a pause. Longer this time.
Jason: you wanna talk about it? i can bring pizza to your place.
Her lips curved before she realized it, looking down at her phone again.
Dylan: yeah. that’d be nice. pineapple okay?
Jason: real pizzas dont have pineapple
Dylan laughed. Oh, he was one of those.
Dylan: fine. no sausage
She laughed, tucking her phone back in her pocket. She wasn’t sure what was happening at Ned’s Sundown Lounge, or what exactly she’d stumbled into. But for now, knowing someone was willing to show up with food and no questions made the world feel a little less twisted.
* * *
Dylan
Ned’s Sundown Lounge was still buzzing behind her, but Dylan’s shift was over, and that was all she cared about. She pulled her coat tighter around her as she stepped into the cool night and spotted Jason’s van idling under the streetlight across the lot.
The headlights were off, but she could see him through the windshield, quietly waiting.
Something about that made her heart squeeze in her chest. In a world full of noise, his silence felt like safety.
She opened the passenger door when she reached him, and the scent of pizza hit her before she even got in.
After the day she had, climbing into the van with him and the smell of warm pizza was literally heaven. Did she smell…
“Pineapple?” she asked, sliding inside and closing the door behind her.
He handed her the warm box without a word, and she smiled. “You’re good.”
“I try,” Jason said, his voice low and even.
She set the box on her lap and buckled up. “You really didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to.”
That was all he said, and that was all she needed.
The drive to her apartment was quiet, just the hum of the tires.
By the time they pulled into her lot, the pizza box had warmed her lap, and her nerves had settled just a little.
Upstairs, inside her apartment, she kicked off her boots.
Jason set the pizza on the table while she grabbed two plates and a couple of drinks.
There was no small talk or pressure. When was the last time she shared comfortable silence with anyone?
She sat next to him on the couch, eyes scanning his face as she chewed on her bottom lip. But he beat her to the punch.
“So…” he said gently. “What happened earlier?”
Dylan leaned back, blowing out a sigh, and finally let it spill.
“My uncle came in with his crew. You know, his Cottonmouths. They were rowdy but… not in a drunk way. Like something was going on. I brought them drinks and overheard one of them mention something I really wasn’t trying to hear when I walked back to the bar. ”
Jason wasn’t looking at her, just eating a slice of pizza. It made it easier to get it out.
“One of them said something about a midnight drop behind a lot and…” She paused, watching him carefully. “I don’t know what that means, but it didn’t sound like beer deliveries.”
Finishing up his pizza slice, Jason kept listening.
“And the way they acted…” She shook her head.
“They were different with me. Like I was a piece of furniture. And my uncle didn’t say a damn word to stop it.
” She looked down, her voice softer now.
“Eli doesn’t want me working there. Did I tell you that?
When he came to the bar tonight, he was still trying to get that message across.
I guess that’s what has me overthinking all this.
I mean, I know things go on behind the scenes at sketchy bars.
I’ve quit a couple. But it makes me wonder. ”
Jason leaned back slightly, his gaze steady on her. “If your uncle doesn’t want you working there, maybe you should listen to him,” he said quietly.
Dylan looked up at him. “You think he’s right?”
“I think,” Jason said, carefully, “that places like that don’t get better just because good people walk through the door.”
The silence that followed said more than any warning could.
Thinking he probably hadn’t come there to listen to her talk about her job, she reached for the pizza box and flipped it open again. Like the silence between them didn’t feel like a loaded gun resting on the table.
“Ham and pineapple,” she said, trying for light. “Don’t judge.”
Jason’s mouth twitched, just slightly. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
They ate at a quiet rhythm for a few moments, comfortable, but not quite relaxed. He watched her carefully, like he was trying to understand more than just her taste in pizza. “You mentioned your uncle,” he said finally, tone still casual. “You two close?”
Dylan shrugged, swallowing her bite. “As close as you can be when you move back home at twenty-five and ask for a job at the one place he doesn’t want you to work.”
He nodded slowly, waiting.