Page 57 of Redemption

Becca looks over her shoulder. “She’s only had two drinks since she’s been here, but I suspect she indulged in a little pre-gaming beforehand. She keeps making unsavory comments about...” Her eyes slide in my direction. “Well, let’s just say she’s fast approaching cut-off, and I’m thinkin’ she won’t take that so well. Her date seems even worse.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Clay promises. “Presley, call Colby for me, will ya? His cell number’s by the phone. Tell him we might need some help convincing this guy he shouldn’t be driving himself home.”

I nod and do what he’s asked. As I’m relaying the information to the sheriff, I watch Clayton approach Nicky’s table. They exchange words, and from the looks of it, they’re not all that pleasant. Her date stands up and puffs his chest out, trying to look intimidating, but my brother has six inches and at least fifty pounds on him. I see Colby’s police cruiser pulling in front of the doors right as the man storms outside. Clayton and Nicky are still getting into it, their volume becoming increasingly louder. I consider intervening but think better of it. The only thing I’m bound to do is make the situation worse. Clayton motions Theo, one of the other servers, over. The two men discuss something briefly while Nicky is going off on Clayton, calling him all sorts of names.

“All right, that’s enough, Nicky.” Clay grabs her by the elbow and starts weaving her through the tables.

“How many times do I have to tell you, dickbag? It’s Nicole!”

“Sorry about the foul language, ma’am.” Clayton winks at an older woman scandalized by Nicky’s language. “Don’t worry, folks, we’ll get this all cleared up in no time. You each get a drink on the house for your troubles. C’mon, Nicole. Let’s go have a chat in my office.”

Theo sidles up to me behind the bar. “Damn, she’s not taking the whole breakup very well, is she? I don’t think I’ve ever seen her be nice per se, but ever since Beckett dumped her, she’s like a swarm of Yellowjackets in a potato sack.”

That’s an interesting—yet freakishly accurate—analogy.

Colby pops his head inside. “Everything okay in here?”

I nod in the direction of the hallway leading to Clay’s office. We can hear Nicky screaming from all the way over here, and if I’m not mistaken, she’s throwing things. Poor Clayton. I’m sure this isn’t the first time he’s had to deal with an unreasonable drunk, but adding a woman scorned on top of it is just askin’ for trouble.

“I think Clayton’s got it handled, but it might not be a bad idea to check.”

The sheriff smirks. “Nah, I’m sure he knows how to handle Nicky just fine. It’ll be good for him.”

My eyebrows rise. “You’re not scared of Nicole, are you?”

He laughs. “Hell, yes, I’m scared of her. That woman is scary. Very, very scary. Give Clay my condolences.”

“Well, okay then. You have a good night, Sheriff.”

“You too, Presley. Say hi to Beckett for me.” He tips his hat with a wink as he walks out the door.

My chest tightens, and sweat beads my brow when a loud crash comes from the office. I know Clayton would rather die than raise a hand to a woman, but the noise triggers a memory of a man with fewer morals. I flash back to when Sebastian threw me into a glass coffee table, and it shattered from the impact. A large chard had pierced my side, and I really should’ve had stitches, but Sebastian wouldn’t let me go to the hospital, so I had to make do with a butterfly bandage. Maybe if I had split my face open, he would’ve been more concerned about scarring, but since the cut was on my torso, he couldn’t care less. He’d put a possessive hand over the jagged pink line as he was rutting into me sometimes. Looking back, I think he was proud of his mark on me as if it was his own personal brand. In a way, I suppose all of the scars he left behind are.

I blink away the awful memory as Clayton appears in the doorway, with a screaming Nicky thrown over his shoulder. “Pres, I don’t suppose you’d mind keepin’ an eye on things around here, would you? I need to take this banshee home before she breaks everything in my office.”

Nicky’s clenched fists are pounding on my brother’s back as her long, black hair brushes against the back of his knees. “Clayton James, I swear to all that is holy, if you don’t put me down right now, I will rip your balls from your body and feed them to you! Then, I’ll repeat the process with your dick!”

Theo cringes. “Damn.”

Clayton seems unconcerned by the colorful threat. “Keep it down, woman. People are eatin’ here. They don’t need to hear about your strange fetishes.”

When Nicky screeches, I see why my brother chose that particular mythical creature.

“Yep, I’m good. Are you sure you’re safe driving with her acting like that? Maybe we should get Colby back here.”

“Yes!” Nicky shouts. “Call the sheriff! Tell him I’m being kidnapped by this jackass!”

“Nah, I’m good,” Clayton insists. “I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

Nicky raises her head as they’re heading for the door. Her face is cherry red from all the blood rushing to it. That doesn’t stop her from glaring at me with all her might and delivering a parting shot. “Beckett might screw you six ways from Sunday, but he’ll never love you, Presley. He’s too messed up to be capable of lovin’ anybody anymore.”

“I said, keep quiet, damn it,” Clayton grunts as he adjusts her weight over his shoulder and ducks down low enough to get her out the door without clocking her head on the doorframe. “Call if you need anything, Pres!”

When the door swings shut behind them, my eyes wander across the bar to find every single person staring in the direction Clay and Nicky just went. They all blink rapidly, some with their mouths still hanging open from the spectacle. It takes ‘em a moment to realize the show’s over.

“Those two really need to bang each other’s brains out and get it over with.” Becca sets her tray on the bar. “Can I get two Crowns straight-up and a Bud Light Lime, hun?”

I pull out two glasses and start filling the order for her table. “Who should screw each other’s brains out?”

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