“Hankie-poo, I’m thirsty,” she whines, and it feels like fingernails on a chalkboard.
“Can you just be fuckin’ quiet for a damn minute? If you want a drink, then get it yourself,” I bark at her, more concerned with finding the woman I actually do want around.
I blink, my eyes thinking they see a patch of red heading toward the door. But when I look again, she’s not there.
Lifting my wrist, I check my watch. Her shift starts in five minutes, and she’s always early. So where the fuck is she?
The bitch, Angela—that's her name—hasn’t moved; instead, she’s still beside me pouting while keeping a death grip on my arm.
“Hank,” a gruff voice shouts my name a couple of times over the bass of the music. I look in the direction it came from and see Javier, a scowl on his face. Not the one he normally wears; this one seems more pissed.
“What’s up, man?” I ask when he stops in front of me.
“What are you doin’ here?” he questions like I’m a kid. “Earl told you to take the night off.”
“I know. And I am. Doesn’t mean I can’t come and drink with my girl.” I place my arm around her shoulders, pulling her in closer to me.
“It’s me and Hankie-poo’s first date,” she giggles, and I want to slit my throat.
“Get lost,” Javier growls, not even giving her a second look.
She doesn’t move. Just stands there, holding on to me like I’m her lifeline or some shit.
“Bitch, I said get lost. Get your ass back to the clubhouse and get on your knees for one of the brothers.” Javier shifts his gaze to her, and all I can see is murder in his eyes.
I hold back the laugh as she tugs on my arm tighter, gasping as if she’s appalled he dare to speak to her like that.
“As for you, she’s not here. Whatever game you’re playing with this trash, you better put a stop to it,” he barks at me. His eyes goback to Angela. “I said go, or I’m going to drag you out of here by your hair and ban you from the damn clubhouse.”
A steady supply of dick must be the thing that registers with her because she scurries away toward the door, mumbling under her breath as she goes.
“What are you doin’, Hank? She saw you with her. You think fucking around with some club bitch is going to win her back?”
She was here. It was her I saw and not my fucking imagination. Was she jealous? My heart perks up at that. Maybe she gets what I mean now about sharing.
“Who says I want to?” My response comes off cocky, but I don’t give a fuck.
“Any idiot knows that you do. You’re fuckin’ up big time, man. Vee is a good woman, and you’re gonna regret this shit later,” he lectures me.
“I ain’t sharing. This was to prove to her that she wouldn’t like it if the situation was reversed. Which apparently she couldn’t if she left.” I cross my arms over my chest, looking anywhere but at Javier.
“Well, since you’re here, you can fuckin’ work the bar. We’re down a bartender. I’ll be lettin’ Earl know you said fuck you to his orders.”
Fucking narc ass bitch. I have to bite my tongue since he is an officer in the club and I’m not.
“He told me not to work. I’m not. He never said nothin’ about not comin’ and lettin’ off some steam,” I snap back.
Javier just laughs. The head falling back, belly shaking kind of one. But I know it’s laced with something darker.
“I’ll give you a pass this time. But heed my warning. Keep doin’ stupid shit like this and you won’t have to worry about Vee changing her mind about just being with you.”
I'm getting fed up with this shit. I’m a fucking Hellion. His brother, yet he’s more concerned with her feelings and not mine. Yeah, it makes me sound like a pussy, but I don’t fucking care.
“Come on, man, can you seriously say that you’d share your woman? The one you want to claim as your ol’ lady, with another man? Another brother?”
He shakes his head and says two words before walking away. “I can.”
I blow out a deep breath and head to the bar. I hate dealing with fucking idiots, and now I have to. Working at the door is a cakewalk compared to dishing out drinks.
