Tally slid a plate in front of me, along with a glass of water and a shot of scotch.
“I like doubles.”
“You get a single until you’ve eaten.”
Earlier, the thought of food made my stomach clench, but now that I smelled the cheeseburger in front of me, I was starving.
The words were out before I could stop them. “You get a break?”
“In about fifteen minutes.”
“Join me.”
She frowned. “I’m not sure—”
I cut her off. “It wasn’t an invitation.”
She narrowed her eyes, studying me. Then she shook her head. “Fine. Eat.”
I attacked the burger, the hot meat and melted cheese greasy and perfect. I ate the fries, adding lots of ketchup to them. I drank the water, feeling some of the despair and lethargy lifting. I also downed the scotch, plus got the other bartender to hit me with another double. When Tally sat down next to me with a cup of coffee, I smiled.
“See, I can be good, Momma T.”
She laughed. “How are you feeling?”
“Better.” I picked up my scotch. “Much better.”
She looked at the glass with a frown, figuring out I’d snuck more scotch.
“What happened, Julian?”
I could never tell her. Never say the words to describe the horrors and atrocities I saw all the time. Although Evie knew what he did, Matteo had shielded her from it, and Marcus had tried to do the same with Missy, although she had already been involved. But Tally was different. She was completely unaware of what I did—of the secret organization I was part of. What we did to try to clean up the world of the evil that lurked below the façade of everyday life.
“Just a bad day.” Then I smiled, still drunk enough to say stupid shit. “I missed you in the office today. No one straightened my files or made me a cup of coffee.”
“I see.”
“And I didn’t get my smile.”
“What?”
“Every day. I try to get you to smile every day. It’s like a little bonus.”
“You’re not making any sense, Julian.”
I turned and faced her fully, our knees pressed together. I could feel the warmth of her skin through the material of my pants. I wanted to touch her to see if it was as soft as I thought it would be, but I refrained. “You always look sad. I like it when you smile. I like it when I make you smile. Really smile. Not like the fake ones you have to put on here or when you say hi to the guys.”
“There’s a difference?” she asked quietly.
“Yes. Your eyes change. Such beautiful eyes,” I murmured. “So mesmerizing.”
She blinked and slid off the stool. “I have to get back.”
“Already?”
“I have to use the restroom. I only get a short break.”
She hurried away, and I signaled the other bartender for another scotch, determined to sip this one slowly. Unlike Tally, she didn’t care how many I’d had and filled my glass.
Tally returned, frowning at me again. “No more scotch, Julian.”
I waved my finger. “You’re not smiling.”
“I’m getting you coffee.”
The other bartender came over and said something to Tally. She glanced my way and leaned close. “I have to help in the kitchen. Stop drinking, Julian. Please.”
I nodded. “Coffee.”
“Yes.” She poured me a cup and slid it my way. “Behave.”
She disappeared, and suddenly, it all came back. The images, the horrible building we raided. The scared teenagers who should have been out with their friends at the mall, not locked in a place where they were forced to do things no kid should ever have to do. The faces of the heartless men and women who had torn them from their lives. Lives they would be returned to, yet never be the same. I had relished watching the perpetrators die, although tonight, I hadn’t pulled the trigger myself. I wasn’t sure what that said about my own mind-set, but I never felt guilt when I killed the scum that committed the crimes.
And as soon as Tally was gone, it all hit me again. I lifted my hand, catching the eye of the other bartender.
“Scotch. Now.”
I woke up, blinking and confused. I scanned the room, recognizing my apartment. Everything looked normal, and aside from the splitting headache, I seemed to be in one piece. I had no idea how I got home. And something was different.
It took me a moment to realize someone was in bed with me. I had been asleep on top of someone, my head resting in their lap and my arms around them tightly.
I swallowed, trying not to groan.
What had I done? Picked up some strange woman and brought her back here? Fucked her?
My stomach lurched.
I had done that in front of Tally? I couldn’t hold back my groan of disgust this time.
“How’s your head?” a soft voice whispered above me. A voice I recognized.
Tally was in bed with me. Tally was in my apartment, in my bed. I was asleep on top of her.
Jesus—what had I done?
“Throbbing and confused,” I mumbled. I pushed myself up and, with a moan, fell back on my pillow. I looked over at her, drinking in the sight of her, half sitting, half lying in my bed. Her hair spread around my pillow like wildfire. Her blue eyes looked sleepy, and a huge part of me felt relieved when I noticed she still had on her green T-shirt and I wore the T-shirt I’d had on under my sweater last night. But how had we gotten here? I searched my memory, but all I got was a scotch-hazed image of Tally pulling my hand and telling me to behave.
“I’m afraid to ask,” I admitted.
She pulled herself up and crossed her arms in vexation. “You disobeyed me and drank way too much scotch. I gave Lillian shit about how much she let you drink. She said you seemed fine.” She snorted. “Until you tried to get off the barstool and fell face-first onto the floor.”
“Oh.” I vaguely recalled something about trying to stand.
“I found your keys and looked at your wallet for your address. I brought you home and only meant to make sure you got inside safely, but you refused to let me go. You kept asking me to stay. You said I made it all go away.”
“Oh,” I repeated. It was the truth. She made things better. Easier.
“I finally got you in here and went to get you some Tylenol and water. You kicked off your shoes and pants. You got your sweater stuck trying to pull it over your head.” Her lips quirked, then she frowned again. “I helped you, and you fell into bed. I gave you the pills and tried to leave, but you grabbed my hand. Asked me to sit with you.” She sighed. “You sort of curled up and put your head in my lap. I stroked your head, and you seemed to like it. It relaxed you and you fell asleep. I thought you’d move and I’d leave, but you never did. I couldn’t get you to unlock your arms. I guess I fell asleep too.”
“I’m sorry?” I offered. I was sorry I had gotten drunk and made an idiot of myself. I wasn’t sorry about holding her all night. It was the best night’s sleep I’d had in months. No nightmares or images filtering through my mind. No restlessness.
“Why did you get so drunk last night?” she asked.
“Bad day.”
“Not good enough.”
“That’s all I can say. I’m sorry I was such a handful, but really, it’s none of your concern.”
She met my gaze with her own, not backing down. “None of my concern? You come to my bar, get drunk, and practically beg me to stay with you, and it’s none of my concern? I beg to differ, Julian. It’s very much my concern.”
I ran a hand over my face. “Leave it, Tally. It won’t happen again.”
“I don’t get you,” she replied. “You’re hot and cold. One moment, you’re teasing and nice. Then you’re removed and distant. Every day, you say something, do something, to make me smile, and then you disappear as if I insulted you.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand you, Julian.”
“I don’t understand myself,” I muttered.
“Some days, I think you regret hiring me.”
“No,” I swiftly denied. “I don’t. It’s-it’s complicated, Tally. I have to be your boss. That’s it. I’m sorry for my behavior, and if it’s made you question working for me, I understand. But it won’t happen again.”
“You won’t tell me why?”
I shut my eyes, my mind once again swimming with the images and sounds of yesterday.
“I had to…help someone with a bad situation. Really bad. It bothered me more than I wanted to admit.”
She was quiet for a moment, then spoke. “I’m sorry.”
“I shouldn’t have gone to your bar and gotten drunk. I shouldn’t have made you responsible for me and my welfare. I’m sorry.”
She slid from my bed, smoothing down her wrinkled shirt. “I would rather you did that than go somewhere else where you may have been in danger. The city isn’t a safe place, Julian.”
It was all I could do not to laugh at her words. She had no idea. Instead, I dropped my head and nodded.
“I hope you have a better day,” she said quietly.
I startled at the feel of her fingers on the back of my neck. I loved how they felt playing with my hair.
“Get some rest and drink lots of water.”
Then she was gone. I listened to the pad of her footsteps walking through the apartment, not stopping anywhere, not investigating. She had to be the most un-curious woman I had ever met. I heard the sound of the door opening and shutting and the muted click of the automatic lock. I flopped back on the pillow, rolling and grabbing the one she had lain on, inhaling her sweet scent.
She had looked after me, was concerned. Her closeness had banished the dark and given me rest. Her touch eased the turmoil and brought me peace. I wanted her back there, in my bed, wrapped close to me. I wanted to feel her gentle touch again, soothing me.
I barked out a humorless laugh.
So much for not getting involved.
It was a long day of meetings and going through the raid the night before. As usual, I dressed in my suit, carried my gun and a secreted blade as I did when I had anything to do with Hidden Justice. It was an image the men relied on. When I was finally free, it was late evening, and I was restless. I drove my car around aimlessly, trying to clear my head.
Trying to stop myself from complicating matters any more than I already had.
I failed.
I lasted until ten o’clock, then I headed to the bar again, parking my car down the block. The seat I had sat in last night was empty, the bar busier this evening. A small group of bikers was in the corner holding court, loud, obnoxious, and insistent. I had noticed their bikes parked in front of the bar, some illegally on the sidewalk.
Tally was busy pouring pitchers of beer, filling orders, the other bartender busy as well. Tally’s hair was in a long braid hanging over her shoulder, and I noticed she had on tights under her shorts. Her legs still looked spectacular. So did her ass. I slipped into the seat, waiting patiently until she found my gaze. Her eyes widened, and I shook my head, offering a silent promise not to repeat last night’s behavior.
But I’d had to see her. I had struggled all day not to call her. Not to beg her to come see me. She had looked exhausted this morning, and I knew my behavior had caused a lack of sleep for her so I didn’t want to disturb her. I was going to wait until Monday, but I didn’t want this discussion to happen in the office, and I had finally admitted I couldn’t even wait until Sunday.
She approached me, one eyebrow raised in question.
“Just a soda. And a cheeseburger when you have a moment.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I was hungry.”
She waited.
“I wanted to see you,” I said simply. “To apologize.”
“It’s fine, Julian. I don’t have time tonight. We’re a waitress down, a busboy short, no proper security on the door, and we’re all trying to cover. I have tables to serve. I’ll put in your order.”
I held up my hands. “No problem. I don’t want to make your life more difficult.”
“Hey, sweet cheeks! We’re waiting over here!” a voice yelled out.
I turned and met the eyes of one of the bikers. He returned my glare with a curl of his lips, saying something to his crew, making them laugh.
“I hate bikers,” Tally muttered, filling a tray with more pitchers of beer. “Especially this bunch. Every time they come in, they’re a pain in my ass.”
“You’ve dealt with them before?”
“We rarely get any of them in here, but sadly, yes. Brian usually watches them carefully, but I think Tom is more afraid of them. He lets them get away with too much. They’re repugnant.”
Anger began beating under my skin. “And they’re bothering you?”
“Since the moment they came in.” She tossed her braid over her shoulder. “Bikers,” she said again, distaste in her voice. “The one who just yelled yanked on my braid so hard, it gave me a headache.”
I grabbed the tray as she began to slide it away. “Let me.”
“What?”
“Order my burger. I’ll take this over.”
“You can’t.”
“Oh, Ms. Wells.” I smirked and winked at her. “You’ll find I like nothing more than a challenge.”
I stood, taking the tray with me. I approached the group. They were a small bunch—brawny, tatted-up tough guys who liked to frighten women by acting like they were important. Command attention with their loud voices and overinflated egos.
I counted in my head. Six-to-one. I liked those odds. Especially given a couple of them had potbellies and looked older. I could take them easily. The “leader” of the group was about my age, mouthy and full of himself, and he was the one who had yanked on Tally’s braid.
Unacceptable.
I slid the tray on the table as they all gawked at me.
“Where’s the girl?”
“I’m helping. She’s a little behind.”
“I’d like her behind me,” one of them muttered. “Or under me. I like the red ones. They fight.”
“That won’t be happening,” I growled and leaned close. “In fact, you fine gentleman are going to finish your beers, tip the ladies well, and leave.”
“Says who?” the one I had narrowed in on as being the leader snarled. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
I lied. Convincingly. I tugged aside my jacket so they saw my holster, letting the fabric drop back into place casually.
“Well, aside from the fact that the redhead is under my personal protection, I’m the narc officer who can have a full team here in ten minutes, but before they arrive, take at least four of you out. I have a few other men in the bar who’ll finish off the job, so I suggest you listen to what I say.” I leaned on the table, my voice deadly cold. “If you don’t want to risk it and spend the night in jail, wondering why your dicks are getting personal with the contents of your stomach, I suggest you do as I say. I already have your plates down, and I’m sure my other men will be happy to spend the night digging into your backgrounds. So, I suggest you shut up and leave.” I stood straighter. “Enjoy the beer.”
I sauntered back to the bar, typing in a message to Damien. His reply was swift.
Got it.
I picked up the ginger ale Tally had left for me, drinking the cold liquid. A moment later, Damien had what I needed. He’d tapped into the camera outside the bar, and now, I did indeed have their plates. I chuckled as he informed me two had outstanding warrants and he’d called in a tip to the cops. One way or another, the bikers’ night was about to end.
I wasn’t surprised when they drank their beer and stood, grumbling loudly about the service and shit beer, throwing money on the table, and stomping out. The leader was the last one out the door, glaring my way and flipping his fingers between us as if we had unfinished business. I gave him the one-finger salute and picked up my burger.
“What did you say to them?” Tally asked.
I shrugged. “I speak biker.”
Tally laughed. “Another one of your talents?”
I heard the relief in her laughter. Saw the way her shoulders relaxed. Recalled her words. There was history there. I wondered if I would ever know it.
“One of many you’ve yet to discover.”
A real, wide, beautiful smile curled her lips. “I look forward to figuring them out.”
I was pretty sure I was forgiven.
I ate my burger, enjoying it thoroughly. I had no recollection of tasting it last night. The manager, Tom, came over and spoke to me.
“You’re the guy who ran off the bikers?”
I wiped my mouth, preparing for a huge discord with him—chasing off business, etc. I planned on telling him what I thought of his management style. Or lack thereof.
“Yes.”
“Thanks. Your bill is on the house. That group causes a lot of trouble. Whatever you said, I’m grateful.” He walked away before I could speak my mind. I had a feeling he knew he was in for a dressing down.
“Damn,” I muttered, turning back on the barstool and looking at my half-eaten burger. “I should have gotten rings with the burger.”
Tally laughed. “I can add them.”
“And a Guinness.” At her raised eyebrows, I chuckled. “I’ll sip it. But a burger without a beer—a free one? Come on, woman.”
She poured me one, the head foamy and perfect, the dark ale bitter and satisfying on my tongue. She stepped into the kitchen, returning a few moments later with sizzling onion rings, laughing as I squirted ketchup on the plate beside them. I chewed and sipped, watching her. She was extraordinarily pretty. Even wiping the counter, collecting dishes, and pouring drafts, she drew my stare.
Tally stopped and refilled my soda, sliding it in my direction. I chuckled at her mothering ways but took a sip. “If you dislike dealing with bikers, or even the general public, why bartending?” I asked, curious.
She shrugged. “Sometimes you take what you can get. I had experience already. I had to eat and pay rent. I keep to myself here, so it works. The bikers are just my own personal, ah, thing. Otherwise, it’s an okay gig.”
I nodded in understanding, picking up my burger.
She disappeared through the door again with a trayful of dishes. I finished my burger and rings and pushed away my plate. I waited for her to return, my eyes never straying far from the door. The other bartender, Lillian, took my plate.
“Anything else?” she asked in a slightly bored tone.
A strange feeling took hold. One of worry and panic. I had no idea where it came from, but it was strong.
“Where’s Tally?” I asked Lillian.
“Oh, probably on dish duty. We’re all sharing tonight.” She walked away, backing into the swinging door with her ass. “Or taking out the trash.” She made a face. “We’re sharing that too.”
Something in me froze. The panic grew, my breath caught in my throat, and I was off my stool in seconds. Without waiting for permission, I barged through the swinging door, startling the staff.
“Taliyah,” I barked.
The kid trying to tackle the pile of dishes jerked his head. “Trash. Taking her time too.”
I was out the door he indicated in two seconds, my heart plummeting to my feet at what I saw.
Tally, terrified and crying, pressed against a brick wall, the leader of the biker pack crowding her, his hand gripping her throat.
The world around me turned red.