Page 2 of Sully
“Since when do men like you worry about being polite?”
“She’s got you there.”The second guy chuckled.
“I still want another chance.How about best two outta three?”
“So, I’d have to hit the target one more time without missing?”
“Yep, only this time we’re gonna move it in just a little bit.Now you need to hit the ring just around the bull’s-eye.”
“That’s a whole lot smaller target,” she said, curling a finger in front of her bottom lip in contemplation.“I’ll have to win more when I hit that.So, instead of twenty dollars, I want an extra hundred.You’ll owe me a hundred twenty dollars.”
“Well, at least the bitch can add.”The third guy, who’d been silent until now, rolled his eyes and sat on the edge of a nearby table.
The girl gave him the side-eye before turning back to Big Beard.“Well?”
“Sure, little darlin’.You won last toss, so you go first.”He winked at her, like it was a big joke.I got an itch between my shoulder blades.I knew the guys would try to take something the girl probably wasn’t prepared to give, but I couldn’t make myself move.Because I had the distinct feeling things were about to get interesting.
She turned her head back to the dart board.This time, she didn’t take a practice aim.Instead, she raised her arm and tossed the dart in one smooth move.It landed in the outer bull’s-eye, just like it was supposed to.If she’d been any closer to the inner bull’s-eye, she’d have been inside it.
Big Beard raised his eyebrows.“Nice one.”He grinned then.“But I’m better.”He concentrated on the board and with careful movements, tossed his dart.It landed just barely inside the inner bull’s-eye.“Looks like I got one more chance.You ready, little darlin’?”
“Yep.”She grinned and motioned to the board.“After you, big guy.”
Big Beard tossed his dart.He landed in almost the same place hers had in the toss before.Not inside the inner bull’s-eye, but not even a millimeter outside of it.“Looks like you got some work to do.”
She grinned at the guy.Then she raised her hand to the bartender.“Double shot of Jack on” -- she looked at his vest -- “Butch.”
“Never said I was payin’ for your liquor.”
“Nope.But I said you were.”She held her hand out as the bartender -- Mike, I think his name was -- brought her drink.She took the glass with her free hand and, very deliberately, picked up a second dart in the other hand.With a little half smile, looking straight at Butch, she downed the double shot and tossed her dart with her other hand at the same time.The dart landed dead center.Never taking her eyes from the big man, she tossed the remaining dart in her hand, again without looking at the board.The tip of the dart landed practically in the same fucking hole as the previous dart.The bar erupted in cheers.Christ.I’d been so mesmerized by the woman I hadn’t realized the whole fucking bar was watching her too.Including the bartender, who’d backed his way to the bar so he hadn’t missed the throw.
“Well, I’ll be God damned,” muttered Mike beside me, pausing his endless wiping.At thirty-nine, I prided myself on not being taken in by a pretty face.But this girl wasn’t like anyone I’d ever seen in my life.The bikers stared at the board in disbelief.Their easy mark had just turned the tables, and from the expressions darkening their faces, they weren’t happy about it.
“Beginner’s luck,” growled the bearded one, reaching for his wallet with reluctance.
The woman laughed, a sound both musical and dangerous.“Hey.I just wanted enough to make sure I could pay my bar tab.”She collected her winnings, folding the bills with nimble fingers before tucking them away inside her bra.I noticed she kept her back to the wall, her eyes never staying in one place too long.“Another round?”
Her challenge hung in the air, sharp as the darts she’d just thrown.The bikers glanced at each other, wounded pride warring with the knowledge they were outmatched.The bearded one narrowed his eyes.I knew this guy wasn’t going to give up.I wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t like getting beaten by a girl, or if he simply wanted her company a little while longer.
“You hustling us?”he asked, stepping closer to her.
She didn’t back away.Just tipped her head back and looked up at the massive guy.“It’s only a hustle if I lied about my skills.”Her smile widened, showing teeth.“I never claimed to be bad at darts.In fact, I think I told you from the start I wouldn’t lose.”
The tension stretched between them like a rubber band pulled to breaking.My grip tightened around my glass, knuckles whitening with pressure.I should mind my own business, stay in my corner with my whiskey and my silence.But there was something about her, something in the fearless way she stood her ground against men twice her size that pulled at me.
Fascination had me headed in their direction before I’d made a conscious decision to move.The woman’s eyes flicked to me for an instant, assessing, then returned to the bikers surrounding her.That brief look held no plea for help, no fear, only a calculating intelligence that seemed to categorize me as an interesting new variable in her game.
I didn’t know her name but as I took that first step toward her, something inside me recognized what was happening.I was walking toward trouble with my eyes wide open, and for the first time in longer than I could remember, I felt truly alive.
Finally, the guys burst out laughing.The bearded one stuck out his hand to her.“You’re all right, girl.I like you.What’s your name?”
“Darby.”
She took his hand, grinning up at the big guy.I wanted to separate her from the other male, but he wasn’t threatening her.While I didn’t know Butch personally, I knew the club he represented.They might play hard, but they never abused women.Their president would have their patch as well as their lives.
I watched as she accepted an unopened bottle of beer from one of the other men.She twisted off the top and clinked bottles before moving deeper into the bar.And like a creeper, I followed her.
She’d moved on to new targets.I got the impression this was all for fun, not the need or even want of money.She approached a pool table where four men were in the middle of a game.She didn’t interrupt, just watched with apparent admiration as one lined up a difficult shot.When he made it, her applause was enough to make him stand taller, enough to make his opponent narrow his eyes.Realizing she didn't need my help, I stepped back to the bar to watch from a distance.
