He was enticing in every way. The way his body moved swiftly around the ring as I watched him from behind the bar. He was the best. And the best never loses.
When Blake Anderson gets a job as a bartender at the local fight club, Chargers, she meets...
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The bar, surprisingly, was relatively empty. The fight Harry was forced to participate in was volunteer based, meaning his opponent chose to fight him. I don't especially understand exactly why people still chose to fight an undefeated fighter, but it happens often.
Everyone knows his reputation but they still chose to try and beat him. I guess that's why the club owner keeps him around. He's an investment as he described to me.
Kadence wasn't at work today, so I was bartending by myself since the club was so dead. There were still people, it just wasn't as full as usual. Harry and I were quiet on the drive here. I hadn't really talked to Anna all day, but Harry told me she's with Grant and safe.
Connor has been a no show recently, so the assistant manager, who happens to be a bouncer usually controls the place. It's like a bit of team work here to keep this place going. That and the money laundering
All of my time at work my mind goes back to wondering how Grayson is doing, if he is even still alive after failing Jason. I don't think Harry would be too upset to find out Jason killed him, however, I myself, wouldn't be too happy even despite all that he's done to me.
Grayson was never a physical abuser in the way most people think, unless you count grabbing me in harsh ways. He never really hit me, but I have only recently come to terms with the fact that he did use to lay hands on me in ways I didn't want. Harry's hands were always gentle.
I'm glad we gave him to Jason, knowing that he was stalking us and anonymously sending texts was unsettling. I think now that we don't have to worry about that aspect of trouble anymore is reviving in a way.
Harry was stationing himself in the backroom like he always does before a fight, preparing himself with bandages and getting his mind set right. The man Harry was planning on fighting was sitting at the other end of my bar surrounded by a couple of women, his eyes on me the whole time. Thinking he needs something, I make my way over to the group to see what I can get for them.
This man is gonna need a drink if he wants to numb the pain that Harry will surely provide him.
He was a big guy. I'll give that to him. He was maybe 6'3", over two hundred pounds of pure muscle. He was going to be a challenge, but knowing he volunteered himself and Jason had nothing to do with it I wasn't necessarily worried.
"What can I get for you guys?" I ask the group politely once I'm directly on the other side of the marble countertops from them. The man smirks at my question, tipping his head to the vodka shelf without uttering a word. I turn my head to look back to where he nodded. Does he think I'm just going to get it for him without him asking or clarifying?
"I'm gonna need you to speak and tell me what you want. I'm no mind reader." My face falls just about as flat as my words.
"Fair enough, pretty waitress." He had the same tone I've come to know so well with men like this. An older cackle undertone with a heavy smoker cough. I scoff at his condescending tone and raise my eyebrows as I impatiently await his answer. "I'll have a vodka martini if you're so inclined."
