Page 8 of Volt
I nod but say nothing. He’s right. The fight is coming, and I need to get my head in the game. I can’t let the guilt I feel drag me down and distract me. I do that, I’m going to get somebody else killed. My brothers need me. I don’t know how I’m going to accomplish it, but I’m going to be there for them.
There will be time to grieve for all we’ve lost later. Right now, I need to get myself ready because we’re going to war.
Chapter Four
Fallon
“Another round, please,” he calls.
I grab a glass and pour out another Newcastle from the tap and fill another glass with a shot of Jack then walk to the far end of the bar. He’s huddled in the corner by himself and has been for the last couple of hours. He hasn’t said anything to anybody other than “another round, please.” I’ve been tending bar long enough that I’ve developed a sixth sense about these things and know that guy is hurting.
“Haven’t seen you around here before,” I say.
He nods. “Yeah, I don’t get over here too often.”
I laugh softly. “Only when you need to get out of town and hide out for a while?”
“Something like that.”
I set the drinks down in front of him and give him a small smile. He returns it, though his smile doesn’t reach his eyes and looks absolutely wooden on his face. He’s a really good-looking guy. A couple of years older than me with sandy blond hair that falls to his shoulders and green eyes that sparkle like polished emeralds. He’s got a neatly trimmed beard and a strong jawline. He’s wearing a black T-shirt that showcases his tight corded muscles and lean frame, though I don’t get the impression it’s in a peacocking look-at-me kind of way.
He obviously takes good care of himself. I’m not the sort of girl who typically puts a lot of stock in things like physical appearance. What a guy looks like doesn’t interest me as much as the kind of man they are. But then, I’m not really in the market for a guy anyway. I’ve made some bad romantic decisions in my past and have put myself on time-out. Rather than pouring my energy into yet another failed relationship, I’m putting it into focusing on improving myself and improving my art.
“Hittin’ it kind of hard tonight, aren’t you?” I ask, pointing to his drinks.
He shrugs. “Guess so.”
“You all right?”
He nods but doesn’t say anything. He lowers his gaze and stares into the bottom of his pint glass like it holds all the answers he’s looking for. There’s just such a lost, sad look in his eyes that it hurts me to see it. I can’t help but feel sorry for him. My mom used to say I was the nurturing type, and I guess it’s true because I have the overwhelming urge to make him feel better about whatever he’s going through.
“Listen, I know it’s cliché to spill all your problems to your bartender, but you kinda look like you can use a friend right now,” I tell him.
He finally looks up and offers me a smile that has all the warmth of a glacier. “I’m good. But... thank you. I appreciate it.”
“Hey, Fallon,” somebody behind me calls out. “We need some drinks down here.”
“Yeah, be there in a minute.”
I let my eyes linger on the sad man’s for a moment, waiting for him to change his mind. He doesn’t though so I give him a nod. I’m usually not this bold or this forward, but I guess it’s that nurturing spirit coming out in me. It’s nice to know that I can still surprise myself sometimes.
“Fallon—”
I turn around and glare at the guy at the other end of the bar. “I said I’d be right there, Tommy. Keep your pants on.”
“How about you come take ’em off for me?” He chuckles, elbowing his buddy, Dutch, who’s sitting next to him.
I roll my eyes and turn back to the mystery man. I’m intrigued by him. I’m sure whatever town he came from has plenty of bars he can hole up and drink himself stupid in. Why come out to Pineville to get sauced?
“If you change your mind and want to talk, just give me a shout,” I say. “I’ll be behind this bar all night.”
“Thanks,” he replies. “I appreciate it.”
“You got it.”
I turn and walk over to Tommy and Dutch, a couple of the regular denizens of The Red Grizzly. A couple of the more obnoxious ones, I should say. They’re both tall, well-built, good-looking guys. They’re in construction and have solid frames. But it’s like because they’re good-looking, they think they’re entitled to my time, attention, and whatever else they demand from me. Most of the time, I can let all their sexual innuendoes and lewd remarks roll off my back. But sometimes, it really irritates me. The problem is, the more I object and blow them off, the harder they seem to pursue me.
It’s like a game or a competition to them. I’ve told them more times than I can even count anymore that it’s never going to happen. That I’m never going home with either one of them. But they never listen and seem to take it as a challenge. Neither one of them will take no for an answer. They’ve made me feel completely uncomfortable a million different times in a million different ways, but they do nothing to alter their behavior. It’s like they think their repulsive behavior is winning them points with me or something. Idiots.
