Prodigal Son(3)

Chapter 2


Krystal


Saturday, May 4, 2013 - Denver, Colorado

I looked down the bar at the Falling Rock Taphouse, and I was finally satisfied with everything. Even though I’d come in a few minutes before my five o’clock shift, it had still taken an hour to get the bar in order for a busy Saturday night. I looked up to see the manager coming my way.

“Hey, Mark, you got a minute?” I called out as he headed up toward the front door.

He walked over and faced me across the bar. “What’s up?”

“Hey, I know I’m new here, and I don’t want to cause problems, but this bar was in lousy shape when I came in.”

I liked Mark so far. He was thoughtful and seemed to be a fair, stand-up guy.

“We weren’t very busy at lunch. There’s no reason that you shouldn’t have walked in to find everything ready to go. I’ll talk to Sam when I see him next week. Won’t happen again.”

I was surprised. After all the years I’d spent hanging out with the Savage Sons, I wasn’t used to people — especially men — paying any attention to what I said. Moses had been the only one who’d ever talked to me like I was a real person and not just a piece of ass. And Moses was gone. God, did I miss him.

“Thanks, Mark,” I said as he waved and headed to the front, always on the move.

I looked over the dinner specials menu while I thought about my new gig. I’d been just heartbroken when Moses had died, and I’d thought all kinds of crazy things in the week that I’d spent in my pajamas staring at the television. Bug had been pissed that I was so upset about Moses, but he’d always made everything a competition between the two of them — or he would have if Moses had given a shit.

I’d thought that Bug would be happy that I didn’t work for Moses anymore, but when I’d finally cleaned myself up and headed out to look for another job, Bug had found something wrong with every single one of them. I was glad he and I hadn’t moved in together yet, because he was starting to really grind my gears. It was like he wanted me around just to wait on him hand and foot — be his fuckin’ arm candy, but I knew better than to be dependent on him. I’d wanted to move up to an old lady, but I was starting to think that it wasn’t gonna be worth it to be Bug’s old lady. I’d be better off being handed around the Savage Sons or even getting out of the MC scene altogether. But I knew that if I left, I’d always miss the leather, the bikes, the tattoos, and the sexy men of the Savage Sons.

I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with myself, but I thought that getting a job at the Taphouse was a good start toward something better. A couple of good-looking young guys walked toward the bar. Something better indeed, I thought, as I set a couple of cocktail napkins in front of them.

Business started picking up, and by eight o’clock, I had a nearly full bar. I waved Mark over on his next fly-by and asked him to keep an eye on things so that I could run to the ladies’ room. As I washed my hands, I checked myself out in the mirror, and I was pretty pleased with what I saw. I’d had to tone down the rough edges for the bar, and I had been surprised to discover that I liked the less skanky look.

I wore my favorite Falling Rock ladies’ t-shirt —the one that was the exact same blue as my eyes and had a low v-neck. My favorite jeans were pretty low rise, and I knew that my lower back tattoo was visible every time I bent over or reached for a glass overhead. There were a lot of shitty tramp stamps in the world, but the one Moses had done freehand on my lower back was a work of art. The lines were graceful and followed the lines of my body beautifully. I checked to make sure the little bit of makeup I wore looked okay, and I applied some fresh lipgloss. Certain that I looked pretty good, I hurried back to my bar.

“Thanks, Mark,” I said as I scanned the bar to make sure no one needed a drink right that second. I had just started to unload the dishwasher full of pint glasses when I looked up to check out the new arrival.

Wow. My view had definitely improved. The man that walked toward the bar was tall — nearly as tall as Moses, probably about 6’3”, I guessed. He was blond, which wasn’t usually my thing, but good grief, was he perfect. His hair was short, but not in a pretty boy preppy way, and the golden stubble along his sexy, strong jaw looked like he belonged in some outdoorsy catalogue. I hoped that he wasn’t about to be joined by his supermodel girlfriend, and I decided at that instant that I would play it cool, but I was determined to chat him up a little.

“Evening,” I said as I tossed a napkin in front of him.

The guy turned to face me after he sat down on the last available stool in the bar, and his blue eyes nearly took my breath away.