Shadow of the Storm Page 8

  He’s concerned. About me. If our positions were reversed, if he’d just attacked me, I’d think that he was mentally unstable, yet he seems to believe I’m sane.

  Which might be a mistake.

  Better to deal with pity than suspicion.

  I release a long breath. “Things have been rough lately. I just got out of a bad relationship and it didn’t end well. There were threats and… well…” I shrug.

  Silence descends.

  I try not to squirm, but it’s challenging. Especially when it feels like a spotlight is focused solely on me.

  “Okay.” Charlie spears me with an intensity that breaks my resolve to sit still. “I’ll let this go. This time. But if you’re going to pin someone to the ground, make sure he’s really a threat, okay?”

  He actually sounds a little amused.

  They could’ve charged me with assault. I think I just got incredibly lucky. “Of course. Absolutely.”

  “Now we probably better get ready to open, don’t you think?”

  A dismissal. Finally. I stand.

  “Yes, of course.” I turn to face Drew. “And again, I’m really sorry.”

  He waves me off. “Don’t worry about it. I’m glad I wasn’t who you thought I was.”

  That makes two of us.

  I steal to the door. My hands shake so badly that I have trouble opening it, but I finally get the knob to twist and let myself out, not bothering to pull it shut behind me.

  This has got to be the most embarrassing day of my life. I may not remember much, but it can’t get much worse than this, can it?

  To top it all off, he just had to be cute, didn’t he?

  “Something’s off here, Dad.”

  Drew’s voice freezes my steps. Is he talking about me?

  Charlie’s reply is too muffled to hear.

  “I know.” There’s no mistaking the agitation in Drew’s voice. “But did you see those bruises? She’s–”

  More mumbling from Charlie.

  I really shouldn’t be eavesdropping. If they catch me out here, I might be fired.

  Banging from the kitchen behind me drowns out most of Drew’s reply, but I catch one word. Danger.

  Is he saying that I’m dangerous? After what happened, I wouldn’t blame him.

  Or that I might be in danger?

  Or that I’m endangering others by being here?

  Wait.

  Could I be endangering others? What would happen if those men tracked me here? Would they take down anyone who got in the way just to get to me?

  “There has to be something we can do.”

  I don’t know if it’s the fact that Drew is closer to the door or his voice simply carries better, but I’m only deciphering his end of the conversation. Which leaves me wondering what he wants to do.

  Get rid of me? Given that he singlehandedly saved my job, that seems unlikely.

  Force me to talk? Hire me as his personal bodyguard?

  A memory slams through me. Another door, much like this one, with me on the outside, listening to a muted conversation between two men.

  Raised voices. A loud bang.

  The memory flits away before revealing anything of substance.

  Who the men were and the topic of their conversation remains as elusive as the conversation Drew and Charlie are having right now. The only thing I do know is that it happened recently.

  I turn from the conversation and force my legs to carry me down the short hallway. I better get to work. The last thing I need is to give Charlie another reason to fire me.

  ᴂ ᴂ ᴂ ᴂ ᴂ

  The restaurant fills up almost as soon as we open the doors. A steady string of traffic flows for the next few hours. At one point I even see Drew out in the restaurant, clearing tables, refilling water glasses, and chatting with the patrons as though he’s done this his whole life.

  Then again, maybe he has. I don’t really know anything about him.

  Still, for some weird reason I find myself keeping tabs on his progress as he moves around the room.

  The bar is slow and I have no problem keeping up with the bar traffic and restaurant drink requests on my own.

  It’s during a lull in business that I look up to find Drew approaching.

  An easygoing smile is fixed in place and his hair is still unkempt, so maybe that’s his usual style after all.

  But why is he coming to see me?

  Maybe he’s filling an order.

  Except that I haven’t seen him working the tables for at least ten minutes. And even then, he was only clearing them.

  A small tremor attacks my hands. I clench my fingers around a damp bar mop and scrub the counter more vigorously than necessary.

  “Hi.”

  I work up a smile that I doubt is fooling anyone. “Hi.”

  “We haven’t officially met. I’m Drew.”

  “Stormy.” Heat washes through me. “Official ninja in training.”

  He grins. “Gotta say that today was a first. Nice moves.”

  “You ever need someone brought down, I’m your girl.” Okay, that didn’t sound quite like it did in my head. “I mean, you know where to find me.”

  Sometimes it’s better to just shut up.

  “So I’m sorry about scaring you earlier.”

  Wait a second. He’s apologizing? I’m the one who attacked him! “Please don’t. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  It was me. It was all me.

  “Well, if you get busy over here before Zak arrives, just let me know. I’ve spent many hours at this bar.”

  I arch an eyebrow. “A preacher who bartends?”

  His eyes widen slightly. “Sounds like you have the advantage. You’ve heard about me, but I haven’t heard much about you.”

  “Zak mentioned that you’re in seminary.”

  A nod. “Yeah. Well, Jesus didn’t just hang out with people in church. In fact, if He were walking this city today, I think he’d be hanging out in bars or strip clubs or something.”

  He walks off with a mysterious little smile on his face, like he knows some grand secret I don’t.

  Maybe he does.

  Especially since there’s an awful lot I don’t know right now.

  Okay, I don’t remember much about God or Jesus, although the names are familiar, but I can’t see them spending time in places like that.

  But then again, Drew’s the pastor.

  “Hey, Samurai Stormy. Feel like shaking up a martini?” Dana, a server whose ego is as big as her ‘80s style hair, leans on the counter and smirks. “Unless you’d rather throw it on the ground, that is.”

  Clever. I wonder how long it took her to think that up.

  I force a smile. “I save the special treatment for those who are important to me.”

  Maybe not the nicest response, but Dana has been snotty to me since we were introduced my first day.

  She sniffs. “You’re lucky Drew’s got such a soft spot for strays. I would’ve fired you.”

  I won’t stoop to her level. “Just the martini?”

  “And a Bordeaux.”

  I fill the order as quickly as possible. Nothing will please me more than getting her out of my area.

  “Hi Stormy, Dana.”

  Dana straightens at the sound of Zak’s voice and flips her hair behind her shoulder.

  “Zak.” The word purrs from her cherried lips. “I’m glad you’re here. No one makes a martini like you.”

  So. That’s why she doesn’t like me. She’s jealous that I work side by side with Zak.

  I take in Zak’s well-styled, wavy black hair and white grin, not to mention the broad expanse of muscles that his button-down shirt does nothing to camouflage. I wouldn’t be surprised if he gets this reaction from a lot of women. He seems to be pretty popular with the female bar patrons at the very least.

  “I’m sure Stormy’s got this.” He rounds the bar and gently elbows me. “Right?”

  Dana skewers me with a glare.

  Does Z
ak know she has a thing for him? Hard to say, but he seems too observant to not know.

  Either way, it’s nice to know that someone still likes me after everything that’s happened today. “Just about done.”

  “Better be careful, Zak, or our local streetfighter there will pin you to the floor.”

  He jerks around to look at her. “What’re you talking about?”

  “Drew. She attacked him.” Dana pretends to suppress a shudder. “It was awful.”

  Oh please.

  “Come on, Dana. That’s not funny.”

  “I’m not joking, Zak. It’s all true. Ask her yourself.”

  “Yeah, yeah, all true.” I shove the drinks across the bar toward her. “You should probably run before I pull my machete from beneath the counter.”

  Zak lets out a low whistle and drops his voice to a mock whisper. “I’ve seen her wield that thing. It’s not pretty.”

  A heavy sigh puffs from her pouty lips. She snatches up the drinks, sloshing a little of the martini on the counter, and flounces away.

  A low chuckle emanates from Zak once she’s out of earshot. “It’s so easy to get a rise out of her.”

  I wipe up the spill and turn to look at Zak. “She’s got a thing for you.”

  He shakes his head. “I wish she’d get a thing for someone else, because I’m not interested.”

  From what I witnessed, she’s not likely to move on any time soon.

  Leaning against the bar, he crosses his arms and studies me. “So. You really attack Drew?”

  It’s bad enough that a dozen people witnessed my meltdown earlier, but now it seems that Dana is determined to make sure everyone else hears about it, too. “Attack is a pretty strong word.”

  He arches an eyebrow. “So you did.”

  Yeah, I did. What of it?

  I try to stem the defensiveness rising inside me, but it’s a pretty strong emotion.

  “I didn’t hurt him or anything. More like pinned him to the ground.” I lift my shoulders in a slight shrug. “I didn’t know who he was and it was dark and he scared me–”

  He holds up a hand. “You don’t need to explain. Are you okay?”

  Me? “I think you should be asking Drew that.”

  “I’m fine.”

  I start as the voice speaks up from behind me.

  A smile crosses Zak’s face and he rounds the bar. “Drew. Been a long time, man.”

  Skirting to the side, I keep an eye on both Drew and the room behind him.

  Zak’s hug engulfs Drew, his hand clapping him on the back. “Good to see you, bro.”

  “Likewise.”

  Drew seemed tall earlier, but compared to Zak…

  Then again, most people would look pretty small compared to Zak.

  Zak steps back and surveys Drew. “So what’s this I hear about you being beat up by a girl?”

  “One girl? I think there were about ten of them. The size of warriors. I’m lucky to be alive.”

  “Oh yeah? And how big was the fish you caught?”

  A pang hits inside me. There’s something about the camaraderie they share that makes me want to cry. I suspect that level of closeness is forged only by going through hard times like the ones Zak described last night.

  Do I have a friendship like that? Or am I as alone as I feel?

  “Seriously, man, what happened?”

  Drew’s eyes slide over to me. Tears sting at the compassion I see there. “What can I say? I scared her pretty bad and got what I deserved.”

  Funny. That’s not how I remember it at all.

  Before I can set the record straight, Zak chuckles. “You really oughta work on that.”

  “And now that we know we have a Kung Fu master on our hands, we just might promote her to bouncer. Looks like you’ve been demoted.”

  I don’t see how he can be so casual about it.

  He must have some kind of agenda. No one is that nice.

  Not even pastors-in-training with a soft spot for strays.

  Sam approaches with an order about the same time that a few customers wander into the bar and sit at a table in the center of the room. While Zak moves toward the customers, I start mixing Sam’s order.

  “I heard about what happened.” He leans on the counter and studies me. “Are you okay?”

  I really wish everyone would just leave me alone. “I’m fine.”

  “Gotta say, that’s pretty wild. Never had something like that happen before. And you picked about the only guy in this place who’d shrug the whole thing off.”

  Huh. Maybe Drew is that nice after all.

  I’m not sure if that’s supposed to make me feel better or not. “Well, I’d like nothing more than to forget it ever happened.”

  Hopefully he’ll take the hint.

  I finish mixing the strawberry margarita and place it with the other drinks on Sam’s tray. “You’re all set.”

  He zips off.

  All I need is something more interesting to happen to take the focus off me. Too bad it’ll take something pretty major. Attacking the boss’ son is kind of a big deal.

  The after-work crowd starts filling the bar around six, packing it fuller than I’ve yet seen it.

  Then again, it is Friday night.

  It’s busy enough that Drew joins us behind the bar, but we’re so slammed that I don’t have time to feel uncomfortable.

  I hand Malachi his order and turn, smacking into Drew for the second time today. “Sorry.”

  Drew’s brown eyes crinkle. “No problem. Hey, you want to stay late? Just until things die down a little?”

  “Sure.” It’s not like I have anything else to do anyway. Except sit by myself and jump at shadows.

  “Thanks.”

  It’s almost nine before things begin to quiet and Drew tells me I can clock out.

  I do, gladly leaving the chaos of the day. I skirt the kitchen and stop by the employee lockers, retrieving my wallet and jacket.

  Now out into the cold.

  Ugh.

  Maybe I’ll grab something to drink first. It won’t save me from the cold, but it’ll put it off a little longer.

  I head back into the bar and claim the stool at the furthest end.

  Leaning against the wall behind me, I survey the room, seeing but not really seeing. A dull pulsing settles behind my eyes and my feet throb in rhythm with some unheard beat.

  I am much too sleep-deprived for the day I just had.

  Zak wanders toward me. “Couldn’t get enough of this place, huh?”

  “Just putting off going outside. I’m not looking forward to a cold walk in the dark, even if it is only for a few blocks.” Although, I obviously know how to take care of myself.

  “Happy to give you a ride, if you don’t mind waiting it out.”

  I check the clock on the wall behind him. It’d be about three hours.

  Three hours of sitting in the bar when I could be in bed. “Thanks, but I think I’ll just call a cab.”

  Or walk. That option is still on the table.

  “All righty. You want something to drink?”

  “Gin and tonic.”

  He arches an eyebrow. “What? You actually drink alcohol?”

  Obviously so. “It’s been one of those kinds of days.”

  He delivers the drink a minute later and I take a sip. The slightly bitter, slightly sweet flavor with a hint of lime drifts across my tongue.

  And with it, images. Me, in a loud place. A nightclub. Lots of people, dancing, laughing, drinking way too much.

  There’s a guy.

  I don’t know him, but I’m watching him. I don’t know why.

  Then he’s in front of me. A blood-colored t-shirt stretches across a tight chest, with chiseled arms poking out the sleeves. A faint scar runs along his squared jaw and his almost black hair sticks out in carefully constructed abstraction.

  He’s menacing. Dangerous. I can see it in his light blue eyes.

  He’s also the club’s owner. Not sure ho
w I know, but I do.

  “Having fun?”

  I smile, tilting my head slightly. “A blast. You?”

  His gaze travels down me. “You know it. Name’s Mason.”

  “I’m Emily.”

  He leans his elbows on the counter and surveys the room. “So, Emily, why’s a pretty girl like you not dancing?”

  I giggle. The high-pitched noise sounds nothing like me. “I guess I haven’t gotten the right invitation.”

  “Well, howsabout I fix that?”

  He takes my hand and I follow him into the midst of hot, sweaty bodies moving with the music like one large, living monster. Conversation is impossible, but that’s okay. I don’t think he’s interested in talking anyway.

  About halfway through the third song, he gives a slight nod, his eyes focused over my head. I pretend not to notice and continue to dance, turning around a second later – just in time to see the bartender pull a vial from his pocket and put a few drops of something into my glass.

  So that’s how this goes.

  I keep dancing, acting like I saw nothing out of the ordinary, but I know I won’t be finishing my drink.

  Heck, I knew it the second I walked away from the bar.

  I turn back to Mason, who leans close to my ear. “Hey, you wanna take a break? I’m getting kinda thirsty.”

  “Stormy?”

  I blink. Drew’s face swims into focus.

  The club is gone. Mason is gone. My spiked drink is gone. Unless there’s something I don’t know about the glass still held in my hand.

  “Uh, I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

  A glimmer of a smile glances across his face. “You looked pretty out of it there. Tired?”

  “Beat. It’s been a long day.” Maybe a touch of humor will defuse the tension I feel every time I’m around Drew. “Attacking innocent people really takes a lot out of me.”

  The smile spreads to encompass his eyes. “Sounds like something that would be best to not make a daily habit.”

  “I was thinking the same thing.” I sip my drink. “I really am sorry.”

  “Anyone can make a mistake.” He waves off my concern. “Besides, it’s in the past.”

  “Thanks.”

  The humor drops like a curtain and he studies me seriously for a few seconds. “Stormy, I know you’re not telling us everything and that’s okay. But if you’re in some kind of trouble or need some help, just know you can come to us, okay?”