In Their Arms

CHAPTER TWO

TWO
DAWN

There’s a crush of people in the bar tonight and I’m busy cleaning tables. A local band that’s popular is playing tonight so everyone is here to support them. I’m making my way into the back when I see the guys walk in and make their way to a vacant table. I hurry to clear my tray of dirty glasses and appetizer plates so I can clean the table they’re sitting at.

Kelli, one of the servers, runs out past me as she fluffs her hair and I can’t help but roll my eyes. Ever since I moved in with the guys they pop up here at Snake’s. Sometimes it’s all of them, other times just three or two and, on a few occasions, just one of them. They usually give me a ride back home when I’m done if they stay late enough.

By the time I shove the kitchen’s swing door open and head back to their table, no less than three serving girls are around them. The guys are looking around while the girls are braced around them in various poses, all of which are shoving their boobs out. Just as I’m closing in, a firm hand grabs my arm pulling me to a stop. Turning I look at the hand on my arm and try to keep myself from scowling. Pasting on a professional smile, I raise my brow at the man holding me.

“There’s enough bitches at that table to take care of them.” He snaps at me causing a few of his buddies to snort in agreement. “Go get us some pitchers, whatever is cheapest that you have on tap. We’ll also do four orders of wings, regular, and four orders of nachos.”

“One with no jalapeno.” A guy adds with a smirk.

“I’m not a waitress so I can’t help you. If you-”

“I didn’t ask what your job was, I gave you something to do. Now go do it.”

“Like I was saying before you cut me off, if you give me a second I can get you someone who can help you.” When I go to step away from their table his hand latches onto me again and this time, when I try to tug away, he doesn’t let me go.

“Listen here, you dumb bitch, I said there’s enough women at that table. You’re all like bitches in heat but today you’re going to serve us, you got that?” His fingers dig deep, causing the skin to grow white and my lips to pinch down.

“I can’t help you. Now, let me go!” I snap as I jerk backwards, trying to get my arm free of his grasp.

He yanks me closer than before and I can feel his breath on my cheek, the smell of old coffee and cigarettes strong. The table laughs when I stumble on shaky legs. His other hand comes up like he’s going to touch me and I drop my tray. Pulling my fisted hand back, I begin to swing at his too smug face but a hand grabs me and then a warm chest is against my back. The man holding me lets me go immediately and his face pulls down in a dark scowl.

“What the hell do you want?” The guy barks aggressively as he leans away.

“I’d like to know why you’re messing with the bus girl when she’s supposed to be cleaning my table.” Tyler’s artic voice rolls over my shoulder and I feel myself sag in relief. He surprises me when he lifts an arm, moving so that his hand is cupping the front of my neck. The move is intimate, possessive and makes me feel, well, protected.

Not something I ever expected from Tyler.

“I told her to get us some beer and food. She kept giving me lip so I was trying to teach her her place.”

I bristle but Tyler just strokes his fingers along my neck.

“Teach her her place, you say?” Tyler purrs in warning. Apparently the man thinks Tyler is agreeing with him so he nods happily.

“Yeah. These bitches in here need a firm hand.”

Tyler leans down, curling over my back so that his mouth is pressed against my ear. “Kara, go clean our table. I’ll be there in a moment.” I peek over my shoulder at him only to see his cold blue eyes burning with anger. “Go on, babe.”

I give a quick nod at him and all but run to the guys. Luckily, the table is vacant of hair twirling girls and I lay my hastily grabbed tray on the tabletop. Grant begins to help me pile up plates while Holland slips his hand into my pocket to take out the damp rag I have in there to wipe down the tables.

“There’s a mark on your arm.” Kent’s eyes land on my arm when I reach out in front of him to grab a glass. “Why is there a mark on your arm and why is it in the shape of a hand print?”

“Oh, that.” I shrug dismissively.

“Yes, that.” Grant growls as he also stares at the spot on my arm that’s slowly turning into a bruise. Damn my pale skin.

“I guess that someone-”

“That guy who was just touching you, he did that.” Holland interjects as he finishes wiping the table, plopping the now dirty rag onto my tray.

I don’t answer since he didn’t ask a question. Just then Tyler pops up in my peripheral vision and his body heat seeps into my side. Turning to look at him more fully I see his jaw ticking. When he lifts a hand to run his fingers through his hair, I see his knuckles are bloody. Dropping my tray on the table I grab his hand without thinking and bring it down closer to my face so I can inspect it.

Blood is caked on his knuckles while small flakes are flecked further up on the back of his hand. I can see that his knuckles are slightly red and swollen. When I register the feeling of eyes on me I notice I'm rubbing his hand with both of my own. Just when I'm about to let him go a familiar voice rolls through the air.

“Look, Homeless is groping Ty.” Melanie and her little group giggle as I drop his hand, my cheeks heating slightly.

Grabbing my tray up again, I keep my eyes downward and turn to head off to the kitchens. At the last minute I half turn to him. “If you want, I can get you an ice pack for your hand.”

Without waiting for a reply, I flee.