Page 13 of Duke

“Well, good luck with that, he just left,” I mutter shoving the towels in the trash and leaving.

The crowd thinned out. Walking past the window on my way back to the bar, I shake my head almost feeling bad for Federico. I probably should have cut off the bachelor party instead of serving them more. They are falling all over the goddamn place and a few are pissing right by the road as Federico tries to escort them into the hired van.

Ducking under the bar, I get to work clearing empty bottles and washing sticky shot glasses, only stopping when Meat signals me over.

“Go easy on the boy, Shanna. His old man just died. He came back here to bury him.”

“Oh god,” my hand splays over my heart, “I had no idea.”

“Why would you. You’re not blind or stupid though. He has the burning hots for ya’. Not that I can blame the bastard. Tread easy girl. A man like that you can only push so far. You don’t have experience in things like this.”

“How could I?” I seethe, “When you and Pops made damn sure every man within fifty miles never looked at me?”

“It was for your own good.”

“Whatever. If you’re so worried I’m naïve—why don’t you keep Duke away too?”

He looks me dead in the face with somber eyes, “Because even a dumb fuck like me—knows not to buck fate.”

Speechless, I grab his empty bottle tossing it in the recycling bin. “It’s closing time. Get lost.”

We both know this is a complete joke since he’s always the last one out the door, most of the time even locking up behind me. He guards me like a lost princess. It’s been that way since I was born. He was Pops’ Sergeant in Arms; the bad man from your nightmare, killing men and drinking blood from skulls. But I was never afraid of him.

As a child, it was cool always having the attention of twenty different men as large as the giants in your storybook bounce you on their knee. But as the years went on—it stopped being fun. They weren’t playmates. They became bodyguards and I was their prisoner.

Things have eased up since I graduated high school. But old habits die hard. I know the only way I’ll ever break free, is by packing up all my shit and hitting the gas pedal until I see the city limit sign behind me in the rearview.

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