Slay Page 8

The guy squared his shoulders.  I could swear, though, I saw fear flash in his eyes.

Oh dear god, he wanted to take on Scary Dude.  As if, asshole.

A frightening energy filled the space and I knew I needed to end this before it got out of hand.  As the scary dude came closer, I raised my hand to his chest to halt him.  I hit rock-hard muscle.  Fuck me, built much?  My core clenched.  Shit, now wasn’t the time to be thinking about how much I wanted to see what his shirt hid.

He frowned at my hand on his chest.  Only for a moment and then his glare returned to the asshole.

“Not till I get my money,” jukebox dude answered him.

The scary dude pushed forward, easily ignoring my hand on his chest.  He stepped around me, moved into the other guy’s space and spoke quietly to him.  I couldn’t hear what he said.  It must have been something significant, though, because the asshole’s eyes widened, he nodded and with one last dirty look at me, he took off.

Scary Dude turned back to me.  Our bodies almost touched, and the energy surrounding us turned from frightening to something else.  A shiver spread down my spine and my heart rate sped up.  Surely he wouldn’t mind if I placed my hand on his chest again.  I just needed one more touch.

“You okay?” he asked, interrupting my sexy thoughts.

I wished he would take a step away from me so I could get my brain going again.  “Yeah, there’s always one of them to deal with most nights.”

He nodded and finally took that step back, giving me space to move and think.  “I doubt he’ll be back.  Ever.”

I didn’t even want to know where his certainty came from.  “Thanks.”

We stood silently watching each other.  His face hid his emotions well; I couldn’t make out a damn thing.  After a few moments in which we both sized each other up, he murmured, “Good.”

Shit, a man of few words.  That was too hard for me.  I liked a man I could read and one I could talk to.  “You want a scotch?” I asked.

He gave me a nod.  “Yeah, thanks.”

Well, at least he knew how to be polite even if he didn’t speak much.  It had become so hard to find men with manners these days.

He followed me over to the bar, and a couple of moments later, I placed a scotch in front of him.  The fact he sat at the bar surprised me: he usually claimed a table in the back corner.

“That guy come in here often?” he asked after taking a swig of his drink.

“I’ve never seen him before.”

He nodded and a thoughtful look crossed his face, but he didn’t say anything.

“You know him?” I asked.

His eyes focused on mine.  Guarded.  I bet this dude held thousands of secrets inside.  “Let’s just say I know of him.  He’s not a man you want back in here.”

He kept his eyes glued to mine while he drank some more of his scotch.  His stare unnerved me.  Something no one managed to do these days

Fuck, time to move away from him.

I nodded at him and said, “Well, thanks again for your help.”

Without waiting for his reply, I left the bar and headed to the office out in the back.  I hadn’t even taken the time to make sure the staff was okay on their own.  I needed a time-out so, hopefully, they’d cope without me.

***

Two hours later I left the office and headed back out to the front.  Paperwork had consumed my last couple of hours to the point of weariness.  I found the bar almost deserted.  Jess and Damian were serving the last few stragglers and I began getting ready to close.  It looked like we might get an early one tonight, which, in one respect, was good, because I needed sleep, but the bills wouldn’t pay themselves.

As I cleaned up, I knocked a glass to the floor and it shattered everywhere.

Bloody hell, why couldn’t things be easy for once?

I bent down to clean it and when I stood after getting all the glass picked up, I came face to face with a man sporting a long scar down his face.  Malice clung to him and the hairs on the back of my neck raised.  I feared for my safety and instinctively took a step back.  When his two friends stepped forward with hostility clear on their faces, I figured we were as good as fucked.

“Dale in?” Scarface enquired.

“No.”

“Where is he, sweetheart?”  His voice gave me chills.

“I haven’t seen him for two days so I can’t help you there.”

His face darkened.  “Looks like we’ve got a problem then, you and me.  He owes me a lot of money and I need that money within the next forty-eight hours.”

“Fuck off.  It’s not my debt to clear up.”

“You’re Layla, right?  His business partner?”

Shit, how the hell did he know that?  “Even if I am, it’s still got nothing to do with me.”

“He used his bar as collateral so it’s got everything to do with you.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”  Anger didn’t begin to cover my feelings toward Dale now.  I should have done some damage to him the other day.

“I don’t fucking kid.  When I come back in two days, I’ll expect to see the twenty grand he owes me.”

My head almost exploded.  Twenty fucking grand!

“There’s no way I can come up with that kind of money in two days.”