Women who weren't there for a good time made him nervous. So, the Sergeant at Arms always put them through the paces. He could try to protect her, but it would make things worse in the end. She needed to prove she could stand on her own.
"You up for it?" Snake asked. He glanced down at the slight woman who showed signs of having a backbone.
"Yeah. As long as you don't expect me to do any fancy moves I think I can handle the basics." The haunted look faded. Her eye grew bright, and she stood a little taller. He decided to let the scenario play out.
"All right then, girly. Get your ass behind the bar," Dirty said.
Her jaw ticked. He held his breath waiting for her to snap at Dirty. The man had a way of getting under people's skin. She stalked around the bar, ignoring the curious and lustful stares from his brothers.
Snake moved to the end of the bar, and met their gazes, letting them know without a word she was off limits. He promised her safe passage, and distraction. She'd be getting both in spades. The black pants highlighted how painfully thin she'd become. Her legs looked like twigs and her ass was nonexistent. There were many things he had no control over, but food wasn't one of them.
"Band-Aid," he barked at the brawny brunette who worked as a Registered Nurse. The boy was a walking contradiction. Despite his massive size he had a knack for fixing people.
"Yeah, VP," he replied, hovering at his side.
"I want an order of wings and two orders of waffles fries. Ten Teriyaki, ten Buffalo-style, and ten Honey Whiskey BBQ."
"I'm on it." Band-Aid quickly disappeared in the rapidly gathering crowd.
It was a Wednesday which meant it was slow, and he never brought women in from the outside. The lot gossiped like teenage girls half the time, and he'd given them new fodder. It was the one major drawback of having such a tight-knit family.
She shrugged off her jacket, and he took in her tiny waist. Woman looks like a strong wind could blow her over. He imagined her with meat on her bones.
"What do we know about this one?"
He turned to see Mike in his personal space.
"Not too much."
"But you're bringing her around?"
"She needs a friend."
"That's what Facebook is for," Mike said.
After shit went down with the IRA, his President had been on edge, and cautious of anyone new who came around.
"I met her in my grief group, man." He ran a hand through his hair and cracked his neck. "I couldn't let her battle this shit on her own. Her kid would've been two today."
"Damn, tough break. I feel for her. But we need to make sure she's secure."
"You want to have Data look her over, be my guest," he said.
"Do you even know her full name or address?" Mike asked.
Snake shook his head. "Wasn't important."
"It should've been. You're getting sloppy, brother. That leads to mistakes."
"She's not a part of this world. There's no threat. She's a lonely ass woman broken, hurting, and trying to piece together her life after some terrible shit. She'd looked familiar to me since I met her. I couldn't place her until recently. She was all over the news a few years back for being caught in that tornado. If Data looks up Estelle Noll, he'll find novels worth of info."
"Shit. That little thing survived a tornado?" Mike said.
Snake nodded. "She's stronger than she looks. She just needs to remember that."
"And you're taking this on yourself, why? You can't bring Jade and Jocelyn back. I don't want you to get your shit twisted. I need you sharp."
"Don't you think I know that? She couldn't be less like Jade if she tried," Snake snapped, pissed that Mike doubted him.
"Make sure you don't forget where your priorities lay. I'll talk to Data about running her info. If anything comes up, I want this shutdown."
"It won't," Snake growled.
"We'll see," Mike said.
Snake let the man's words roll off his back like water. It was his job to keep the club safe. The task placed a heavy weight on Mike. Bigger organizations than the Wild Ones had been brought down by a mole implanted amongst the ranks. He returned his attention to the small woman rolling up the sleeves of her white button down and putting on what he could only describe as her game face. His lips flickered into the ghost of a smile. With her furrowed brow and narrowed gaze, she faced down Dirty with all the intensity of a gunfighter.
"I'm ready," she stated.
"How long you been in this class?" Dirty asked.
"About a month."
He scoffed. "So basically, you know jack shit."
"Try me," she said.
"Highball."
She nodded and moved to grab a tumbler.
"You even know what that is, girl?" Dirty taunted.
She ignored him as she added ice, grabbed a bottle of whiskey, and topped it off with a splash of Coke. She sat the drink down in front of Dirty. "What do you think, old man?"
Dirty threw back his head and laughed, breaking the tension. "Hot damn, I might like you after all."
She smiled, and his brothers descended, eager to put her schooling to the test. As they crowded in around her, she glanced at him, and he nodded his approval. She turned to take another drink order. Her deference pleased him. Her silent request woke something protective inside of him. She is mine to protect. She called me because she knew I could keep her safe and help her. The thought made him hard. I'm a pig. The last thing on her mind right now is getting dicked down.
§
Flushed and mused, she slid another drink down the bar and he stepped in.
"All right, the bartender is off the clock," Snake said.
His brothers let out a groan, and he laughed. It wasn't every day they had someone behind the bar who knew what the fuck they were doing. It was usually a hang around or biker bunny looking to bed a bad boy or hoping to make Old Lady status. He nodded his head and she moved from behind the bar. The color in her cheeks looked good.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, that was fun. I always liked making drinks for people. It's why I went to Bartending School."
"Seems like a solid plan. Plenty of people can't say they like what they do."
"Hey, you get out of school and need a gig, you come back this way," Dirty called.
She flashed him a smile, and Snake's heart skipped a beat. Jesus Christ, she's beautiful. It changed her completely. The inner light he glimpsed was a beacon. He took a step closer before he could think better of it. She looked up at him, pinning him with her large eyes.
"You play pool?" he asked.
The smile returned, and he caught his breath. "I dabble."
"We have a pool table and a dartboard."
"Darts? I love darts."
"What's a little thing like you know about darts?" Brawny, an ex-linebacker for a minor leagues football team asked.
"A girl who knows enough," Estelle replied.
That's it, baby, give 'em sass.
"You care to put your money where your mouth is, Sprite?" Brawny wiggled the toothpick in his mouth.
Something wicked moved behind her eyes. "Are you?"
"Oh hooo. I think she's calling you out, brother," Dirty said.
Brawny looked at Snake. "You see this shit?"
"I do," Snake replied with a grin. He'd done the right thing bringing her here. She didn't have time to dwell on anything. The club was good for taking your mind off of everything.
"And you approve?" Brawny said.
"Fuck yes. Hand him his ass, Es." The nickname rolled off Snake's tongue easily.
"One-hundred bucks says I win."
Her lips quirked upward, and she glanced down. He had a feeling she was going to slaughter Brawny. He took a long draw off his beer as they walked to the game room. They moved over to the dartboard set up and Brawny handed her three darts.
"Okay," she murmured. She was an odd mixture of brash and shyness.
"Ladies first," Brawny said.
"Hmm." She took the darts from his hand, stood behind the lines, and narrowed her gaze. Thump, thump, thump. In the blink of an eye, she'd nailed the bull's eyes in a rapid succession.
"Son of a bitch," Brawny muttered.
"My mother's a saint. It's my rakish father who taught me everything he knew about darts."
"You brought a damn dart shark in here?" Brawny said.
Snake shrugged. "Seems to me you were the one egging her on, not the other way around."
"Don't be a sore loser. This is a good thing. Imagine all the money we can make on the brothers who come in from out of town," Hustle said.
"Oh, you would think of that," Brawny grumbled.
Hustle shrugged. "What? We have an opportunity to make easy money."
"I think she'd have to agree first. Come with me, trouble," Snake said, crooking his finger.
They continued to bicker as she played a few more rounds and the food arrived. He plied her with wings and beer until she mellowed. Now it's time to talk.