Learning to Forgive (The Learning Series) (7 page)

“Pete. Pete. Pete,” I say through a sigh. “I warned you last year about your habit of fucking with my shit. Didn’t I? And didn’t I, being the gracious person I am, let you off with a warning?” Pacing in front of him, I keep my stare on my boots. “And since I’m such a nice person, I’m going to give you one more chance.” Now I look at him. His fear is apparent, but a small, bloody smile forms. I really hate when I can’t beat the fuck out of him from the beginning, but seeing how my boys have already done it, it leaves me with only one thing to do.

“Yes, sir. Thank you…” He pauses when my hand goes up.

“Don’t thank me yet. I’m giving you thirty seconds to run as fast as you can before I shoot you. And I won’t kill you right off. I’ll take out your legs first. Then your kidneys and just work my way up. I’ll use every last bullet to make you suffer like that girl suffered before I finish you off with the last one.” His face is pale as he sits there in fear staring at me. “I suggest you get off your ass.” I grab my gun out of the holster. “Lou, get your timer started.”

Pete stands and starts when Lou says go, but I’m a helluva shot, which he learns right before he dies.

Leaving the men’s room at Jay’s, I step down the hall and yell in Chris’s direction for a beer before we go on stage. I sit down at our regular table and notice Ryan’s ass sitting on the table, drumming his legs while watching the bar. I know who has his attention, but there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. Finally, his eyes move my way. “What?”

“Hyde here?” I ask, trying to take my mind off Red working behind the bar in those tight jeans that caress her ass. My palm would look great on it.
Cool it, dipshit
. “Where the fuck is my beer?” I need a quick cool down before thoughts of a certain bartender fuck with my head more than she already has.

Instead, I look around and try to keep my mind on the band because tonight’s our first performance with Hyde as the bassist. I made him burn his momma’s boy clothes and loafers in exchange for some jeans and t-shirt. I was surprised to find some ink under his clean cut clothes, and noticed the scar on his left upper back. Not my business. Not my problem.

“Yeah. He’s behind stage, setting up or some shit. Where’d you find the guy anyways?”

“He’s my cousin from NOLA.” That’s all I say because that’s all he needs to know. I like the guy and don’t want him to end up dead. He nods knowing the subject is dropped.

“Figures you two are related. You’re both grumpy shits. Don’t talk. Don’t smile.” He looks at me. He rubs his palms together while his trademark smile makes an appearance. “Want to see what a smile and some conversation can get ya? Then watch me work my magic.”

Before I know what he’s talking about, I hear her sweet, husky voice that causes a stirring in my dick. “Here.” A cold Corona lands in front of me with a loud thud. When her arm is in front of me, I grasp it to hold her in place. “Let me go, you fucktard.” She yanks in an attempt to get free, but she’s no match in strength. My hand encompasses her small wrist and forearm, and I take in every millimeter of skin. Her softness is amazing and something I’ve never noticed before in any female.

I turn my body to face her and tighten my hold just enough to make her eyes flinch. “Not until you learn some manners and bring me my beer nicely.” I look in her eyes that stand out against her pale skin and red hair, wondering what the hell I’m doing? I have no fucking clue, but I can’t seem to control my temper around this chick. She tries to give me her meanest look, but she doesn’t scare me. She might act like a bitch, but I’m sure it’s a front. I’m also sure she’s an attention hog needing everyone’s eyes on her like most of these girls. She’ll probably blame her anger on daddy issues.

“Don’t take it personally, but I don’t do nice.”

“Well, that’s a shame. You’d be downright pretty if you occasionally smiled.”
What the hell was that?

She’s just as surprised by my comment because her eyes widen, and she stops pulling and looks at me questionably. After a minute of the awkward stare down, she finally speaks. “You want me to be nice and happy? Then give me my brother’s bike back.”

Now it’s my turn to be caught off guard, but I’m an expert when it comes to not letting my feelings show. Her words about the bike have one thought surfacing in my mind. This can’t be the sister Ben spoke about. She’s not timid or shy… or sweet looking. But as I search her face, I see it. The similarity is small, but it’s there.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” While lost in thought, my grip must have loosened because she yanks her arm free and rubs her wrist. “Jesus! You’re the one who needs to learn some damn manners.”

“Oh, don’t worry about
The Demon
here. He’s as mean as they come.” Ryan, who I forgot about, scoots around me and stands by Red. “Now me, baby, I’ll be whatever you want. Polite, sweet, kinky… Let me take you out after your shift tonight. I’ll show you how nice I can be.” He wags his brow and gives his best smirk.

Red tilts her head while narrowing her eyes at him. “I’d rather bath in a gonorrhea-infested hobo’s urine.
So fuck off
.” She takes her tray and shoves past Ryan while my lips form a smirk that can’t be helped.

He turns my way, looking like a two-year-old, and she just took his favorite toy. And I guess she did, because pussy is his favorite thing to play with besides his drums. My smile slowly builds into a laugh as I watch his face. I haven’t laughed in years, it seems, and it actually feels pretty damn good. Different, but good. Along with the laughter, I feel relief that she wasn’t affected by his charm.

Ryan now watches me inquisitively. “What?” I wipe my smile away and down half my beer.

“You know, I’ve known you for almost two years now, and I’ve never heard you laugh. Not once. And I’m funny as hell. But this chick comes along, and now you're smiling like a fucking Disney character. What the hell is wrong with this town? First Cory starts dating some fuckin’ yee-haw, David keeps fucking moping around, and you’re fucking laughing?” He runs his fingers through his hair while shaking his head. “And to top it off, a chick turned me down. What. The. Fuck.”

As he continues to vent, my mind goes toward Ben. He always wanted to play in Lyrical Obsessions, and man, he had some serious talent. But he couldn’t stop using. I offered to pay for his ass to go to rehab, but he always refused, saying he was going to get clean on his own because he couldn’t leave his sister. But that’s a song that has been worn out over and over again with addicts.
This is the last time. After this bag is gone, I’m done
. I know because I’ve been there, and it took some major shit for me to stop. And by major, I mean life changing.

It’s apparent not even his sister was enough to get him to put down the pipe and needles because he overdosed almost a year ago. Pretty fucked up that it was my shit he tweaked out on all the time. Even though I don’t sell it to individuals, my clients and their runners do. Unfortunately, most have to lose something important to wake the hell up and finally pull their shit together.

Ben was good at hiding his habit from people and refused to bring his sister into this lifestyle. I didn’t even know he had a sister for months after we met. Even then, he only mentioned her when he was fucked up. He told us how she was a quiet girl who was terrified of everyone who looked at her wrong or said something the wrong way. But he also bragged about how smart she was and how she was the most talented one out of the two of them. She wrote the music, played multiple instruments, and she could sing. He also mentioned scars that are on her. I’m not sure if he was talking metaphorically or physically because he’d usually pass out before he said more.

I’m not going to lie. This mystery girl he talked about always intrigued me, but the girl glaring at everyone as she works behind the bar is not what I was expecting.

Maybe she’s not Ben’s sister. Maybe she’s lying.
But why would someone fake that?
No. I know she’s his sister. If Ben wasn’t right in the head, I’m sure she’s just as fucked up. Who’s not this day and age though? I’m fucked up in my own right, and I kill in my job, but I’m not a complete monster. Well, not to the innocent. I don’t believe in hurting women or children. I believe if you’re guilty then you need to pay, and my gut tells me this chick has a story. And as much as I don’t need this shit, right now I want to know what it is.

Feeling a sting on my left ear, I turn and swing my fist, barely miss a laughing Ryan. “Did you just flick my ear?”

“Fuck, yeah. You’re daydreaming, and we need to get on stage.” He spins his drumsticks in his fingers. “Now, let’s rock this shit so I can mend my broken heart and get between some warm thighs.” He jumps on stage with more energy than a damn monkey on meth.

Putting my guitar strap over my shoulder, I climb the steps. Looking at Hyde tuning his bass and Ryan sitting on his stool, an idea starts to form. Hopefully, it’ll prove if Red is, in fact, Ben’s sister, and if she is, I finally get to meet this enigma of a girl I’ve heard about.

“Games are meant to be fun for all parties involved.

I guarantee you won’t be laughing when it’s over.”

~Blaire

Blaire

The night has been going relatively pleasant since I left asshole’s table. The crowd of girls has doubled since they started playing, and I hate the fact I still have a few hours to endure this shit. Chris’s side of the bar has been slammed with just as many horny college girls as the dance floor was earlier. Luckily, Lyric is off stage, but he’s still making his presence known as the band sits at their regular table in the corner. I’m busting my ass trying to avoid his eyes on me.

Thank goodness the annoying vaginas help to keep my anger in check and my stare from clashing with his intense one. When they introduced Hyde earlier, I swear I got a busted eardrum from the squeals. Get your libidos under control girls! These guys are all about fucking you and leaving you with either a baby, STD, or low self-esteem. Okay, so maybe some of these girls need to be brought down a notch, but do I have to witness all the lap grinding? I swear it’s just how I imagine Disney world. There’s a fucking line of girls that are waiting for a ride.

“You know you’d make more money if you’d smile every once in a while?” Chris says as he pulls the lever to the draft beer.

“I don’t smile. I work. I breathe. I sleep.” I slide a shot of Jack to the asshole in a rented suit with slicked back graying hair, and laugh with sarcasm as he tries to look down my shirt. Again. He’s been like this for twenty damn minutes, and it’s starting to piss me off. “You gotta fuckin’ problem with my tits, dude?”

His drunk, red, hooded stare meets mine. “Yeah, baby, I do. They’re covered. Why don’t you show me what you’re hiding under them clothes?” He reaches out, trying to take hold of me while licking his nasty chapped lips.

Immediately, I start to shiver as my hidden terror surfaces. Without a thought, I throw the whiskey in his face.

“You bitch!”

Chris has me behind him before the ass can reach over the bar. “Back off, asshole.”

“Look what that cunt did!” He points to his wet face and upper body. “You’re gonna pay for this suit. You’re gonna pay for this.” His finger is directed at me as I peek over Chris’s shoulder. The guy is older and well dressed, but I know a fake when I see one.

I step out from behind Chris, remembering I’m not Mouse anymore, or Blaire from years ago. I’m smarter… tougher. “Look, tiny dick. You can’t ask girls to flash you their tits and expect them to show the goods to you. Especially if you live at home with mommy and rent a suit just to make yourself look respectable. Your gel-smothered hair needs a cut, and the dandruff you’re sporting is reason enough for us to run for the hills. Add your fucked up, perverted ways of approaching a girl and you might as well go back to your blow up doll because the real thing is out of your league.”