Whisky State of Mind (11 page)

A live band belted out a mix of country and rock and drew a large crowd. The dance floor was packed, as well as every table in the building. She had to give her father credit—the bar was certainly doing well for them. It was good to see so many old faces from the club working as either bouncers or bartenders, and a few who just h
ung around for decoration, it seemed. 

“Hi guys, what can I get for you?” Sky asked, smiling at the three men seated at one of the tables near the dance floor.

“You can start with your number, darlin,’” a heavily tattooed man wearing a biker’s jacket said, eyeing her with a sleazy smile. Beneath his jacket he wore a dirty-looking t-shirt that was in need of a good wash.

Sky’s smile tightened, but she kept things light. “Sorry, that’s not on the menu tonight.”

“I know what I’d like on the menu,” another of the men added before lowering his voice and saying something that caused his two friends to look her up and down and chuckle.

“I’ll come back when you’ve made up your minds,” she said, calmly and turned away.

The hand that latched around her arm startled her. “Come on, we’re just having a bit of fun. Let us buy you a drink to say sorry,” dirty-shirt guy said, his hand still holding her arm firmly.

“Let go of me. Now.”

A slow grin spread across the man’s face and he tugged her toward him, catching her off balance so that she fell into his lap.

Sky tried to pull free but the guy
’s strength was no match for her. She tried to stay calm. She needed to talk her way out of the situation until she could catch the eye of one of the bouncers.

“So, how about that drink?”

“I don’t drink, and I have orders to take.”

“I can give you some orders, and I’d bet you’d like to follow them too, wouldn’t ya’ baby,” dirty shirt crooned near her ear
, making her skin crawl at the whispered suggestions he went on to give.

Sky could feel panic beginning to well up inside her as the guy’s arms tightened around her and held her firmly across his lap.

“Let her go,” a voice cut through the air beside them with an underlying menace that even the loud music around them couldn’t drown out.

Her captor lifted his head from her ear and followed her gaze.

Sawyer stood beside the table, his face a hard, unreadable mask, his eyes fixed upon the man holding her.

“Mind your own business.”

“I’m not asking you again,” Sawyer said, the words coming out as rough as sandpaper on timber.

“And I said—” the guy’s words were cut off abruptly as Sawyer slammed his fist in his face. In an instant, Sky was pushed aside as the man held his nose and swore loudly. The two other men at the table were on their feet, ready to defend their still
-swearing comrade, but two bouncers arrived and within seconds all three were being escorted—none too gently, toward the front door.

“You okay?” Sawyer asked, turning his attention back to her as soon as the men were safely away from the table.

“I’m fine. Thanks.”

“I’m going to find out why the hell no one was here. You shouldn’t have been in that position,” he said harshly.

“It was no one’s fault. It happened before I could signal anyone. Don’t make a big deal of it, Sawyer.”

“Those guys shouldn’t have been let in. They were wearin’
colors for Christ sake,” he bit out, surveying the room as though looking for anymore stray, rival bikers who were obviously not supposed to be in here.

She looked down at his fist as he flexed it absentmindedly. “You need to go get your hand cleaned up,” she said, frowning as she noticed the blood smeared across the knuckles. “Are you hurt?”

He glanced down at it briefly, before shaking his head. “Nah, it’s not my blood. It’ll wash off.”

Sky saw that they were still attracting a lot of attention from the nearby patrons, and quickly began straightening the table the men had been seated at earlier. “I need to get back to work.”

“Go take a break.”

“No, I’m fine. I just came off a break not long ago. It’s no big deal—they didn’t hurt me.”

“I’d feel better if you took a break for a while,” he insisted.

“And I’d prefer if you’d just let me do my job and stop
mollycoddling me,” she snapped.

“I owe it to your father to make sure you’re okay.”

“No. You don’t,” Sky grated pointedly. “I’m an employee and that’s it. Now, go clean up your hand before you get blood all over the place and let me get back to work.”

She turned her back on him and walked away to reassure the nearby tables that everything was fine and apologiz
e for the interruption. She soothed ruffled features and tried to make light of the incident, anything to take her mind off Sawyer watching her with that brooding frown on his face that warned her he wasn’t happy.

Well, tough.
She wasn’t about to fall apart just because some guy grabbed her. It wasn’t as though she’d been alone in the middle of Central Park. They were just causing trouble—they wouldn’t have harmed her in front of all these people.  Although, she had to admit, she’d breathed a sigh of relief when Sawyer had arrived…she just wished he hadn’t made such a huge spectacle of it all—violence was so…
unnerving
.

“Are you alright, Sky?” Cindy asked, when she reached the front desk.

Her concern was touching and Sky smiled to reassure her.

“Thank goodness Sawyer came along.”

“Heads are gonna’ roll later,” Yvette put in, brushing past them to seat some more customers.

“I don’t know why, it wasn’t like anyone had time to do anything,” Sky muttered.

“It’s Sawyer and Johnny’s law. There’s a no-colors rule. No one comes in if they’re wearin’ their club’s cut. Causes too many fights.”

She hadn’t known about that rule before she started her shift. She wondered what other club rules she was yet to learn about. So much for not wanting to get sucked back into the middle of all this again.

****

After her shift, Sky knocked on the door of the office and waited until she heard a request to enter. “You wanted to see me?”

Her father stood as she entered the room and walked across to her. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. I heard what happened earlier,” he said, moving to reach for her but dropping his hand when she took an involuntary step back. 

“For the last time, I’m fine! Why is everyone making such a big deal about it?”

“Maybe we’re worried about you.”

Sky turned around to see Sawyer leaning against the wall next to the window.  The way he stood, arms folded across his chest, watching her with that unnerving intensity that always managed to unsettle her self-assurance, irritated her. Why was he
everywhere?
  “Well, I’ve managed to take care of myself for a while now. I think I can handle the odd wandering hand.”

“Those guys were dangerous,” Sawyer said, his eyes narrowing as he took in her exasperated stance.

“Baby, those boys belonged to the Switchblades. They were here to cause trouble. I’m just grateful Sawyer here was able to contain things before it went any further.”

“
Contain things?
You call smacking the guy in the face containing things? Surely there were other ways you could have handled the situation,” she accused. “I thought you were supposed to be businessmen now?”

“We
are
businessmen,” her father said, now mirroring Sawyer’s body language, folding his arms across his chest, his eyebrows scowling at her.

“Ah, newsflash. Businessmen don’t go around hitting their patrons.”

“They were bikers, Whisky. What part of
they were dangerous
don’t you get?” Sawyer asked, pushing off the wall to come to a stop before her.

“Seems a bit
hypocritical, considering the Black Mustangs are a motorcycle club. I’d have thought other bikers would be your biggest clientele.”

“We start letting one club come in here—then we look like we’re takin’ sides. Pretty soon, we’re stuck in the middle of a war. We fought hard to get away from all that crap,” Johnny told her. “I’m not part of that life anymore, Sky.”

She believed him. Another tiny piece of the wall began to crack.

He abandoned you,
an echo in the back of her mind reminded her faintly, and she felt a moment of conflicting emotions. She took a shaky breath. “Well, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m okay. I better get going.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wait.”

Sky paused, eyeing her father warily. It was too much, too soon. She could see he wanted things to be different—he was doing his best not to push her, but it wasn’t easy to forget all those years of loneliness and regret.

“Sawyer tells me you’re catching the bus out here each day?”

“Yes.” She eyed him suspiciously. She didn’t want him messing with her independence any more than he already had; albeit doing her the favor of giving her a job. She wasn’t going to lose what little freedom she still had.

“I’m sending a car to pick you up and take you home each day.”

“No thanks. I’ll just take the bus.”

“You’re not traveling alone on a bus from here at night.”

“It’s perfectly safe,” she forced out trying not to clench her jaw.

“I’m not asking.”

Sky felt her mouth drop open in disbelief. “You can’t dictate my travel arrangements.”

“It’s nothing I wouldn’t do for any other employee.”

“Oh right. I’m sure you ferry all your waitresses to and from work,” she scoffed.

“I take the safety of my workers very seriously. There’s a car out the front waiting for you. Organize a time with the driver for the morning,” he said, picking up the phone on his desk. “That’s all,” he dismissed.

Sky turned and began walking toward the door. Automatically she’d obeyed his order, just like she’d always done as a child—because it was her father telling her to go. The thought startled her. When had that happened?

“Sky,” he said as she reached the door. She didn’t turn around, she felt too confused and fragile. “It really is good to have you home, baby.”

Tears swelled, hovering at his gentle words. How long since she’d heard those words? How many nights as a child had she dreamed of her Daddy, coming back for her and saying those very words? Quickly she squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, before pulling the door open and walking outside.

Damn it.

She quickly wiped at the few tears that had escaped and took another deep breath to pull herself together. She was angry and she was hurt. She didn’t want to fall for his lame-ass apology. It felt wrong, like she was selling out the sad little girl who didn’t want to lose her Daddy or her life. Anger felt good. It gave her the strength to fight and to move on…forgiveness felt weak and made her sad. It felt hollow and empty, as though nothing she’d gone through had been important. That little girl needed her to be strong now.

Pushing open the front doors, she looked around for the car her father had supposedly ordered to deliver her home. The car park was almost deserted. The few remaining employees still having a quiet after work drink were still inside and their cars were scattered across the now barren parking lot.

“It’s over here,” a deep voice came from behind her and Sky jumped.

She watched Sawyer brush past her and move toward the rather plain
-looking sedan parked near the side of the building. He stopped in the shadows when he realized she hadn’t moved.

“What are you waiting for?”

“You’re the driver?” she asked skeptically.

“I am now. Hurry up, I don’t have all night.”

It was late and she was exhausted. That’s the only explanation for why she didn’t bother arguing and simply followed him like a lamb to the slaughter. She slid into the passenger seat and pulled on her seatbelt without looking at him, even though she could feel his gaze on her in the dark interior as he reached for the ignition and turned it on.

She leaned back against the headrest and shut her eyes. Before she’d gone in
to see her father, she’d felt pretty good. Now, though, she felt drained, both emotionally and physically. She hated all this emotional crap that seemed to make up her life these days. She preferred it when life was mundane. She missed the highlight of her day being the coffee shop and imaging a new fantasy with her mystery guy…who had turned out to have a name and a job and after discovering all that, had somehow lost his mystery.

“You did well out there tonight,” Sawyer said, breaking the quiet as they drove through the quiet streets.

“Glad you were impressed.”

“You know, you can cut the attitude whenever you want. It’s getting old.”

“Just pull over here,” she said tightly.

Sawyer’s grip tightened on the steering wheel and he gave a brief shake of his head in frustration, but continued to drive.

“STOP THE CAR!” she yelled.

Sawyer pulled the car to the side of the road. “For fuck sake, woman. What the
hell
is your problem?”