Good Girls Don't Tell

GGDT // 1

1//Good girls don't start bar fights;

"Jinx! Table 3 needs another round of shots."

"Shit, alright! Be right there." I quickly round up the needed amount of shots for the intoxicated group of men. They have been at The Play House bar for the past 3 hours pounding back drinks, laughing profusely and seem to be extremely acquisitive toward the girls.

I pick up the tray and walk to the men, balancing the drinks; a trait you learn soon after getting a job here. The men's eyes shameless run up and down my body. A down turn of this as a job.

Pigs.

"Jinx!" My bar name rolls off their tongues in a slur chores of cries, so mirthful to see their alcohol on my tray. I give my full watt smile showing my teeth, fake of course. No one would willingly smile at this group of men unless you have half a brain or looking to get railed tonight. They are attractive men but the way they look at you like you are just their next meal detests me.

"Hi boys," I smile for them, "Here's your round for you. Enjoy, call me back over if you need anything else."

I turn to head back to the bar when the dark haired one grabs my wrist, "Wait."

I turn back around looking at the shots, confused as to why he needs to stop me, "Did I forget something?"

"I need something right now, could you help me out?" A devilish glint in his eyes.

My stomach rolls, I can tell already where this is going, "What do you need? I'll do my best to help you."

Always be polite to the customers.

"I need you sweetheart." Gross. He grunts at me as he slaps my ass. My body is jolted forward slightly. I take a deep breath as the other erupted into laughter. Be Polite.

Even though I want to rip out your throat and feed it to a wild pack of dogs.

"I'm sorry. I need to get back to work."

He yanks on my wrist again pulling me to his height in the chair and we are eye level, "That's not doing your best to help me."

Why don't you and your buddies go help each other in the bathroom stalls that are across the room?

I grit my teeth. I open my mouth but before I can say anything he interrupts me, "Don't talk, use that mouth of yours in a good, useful way won't you sweetheart?" He smirks as the others erupt once again.

Again, pig.

"You need to let go of me, please. I'm being polite and I'm asking you stop using that language with me, sir." Before I stop being polite and knock every one of your teeth down your throat. He licks his lips at me. My voice strained and I feel that he is actually getting off by my struggle with being nice to him.

His grip gets tighter on my wrist, my heart rate picks up. I deal with douches like him daily. This shouldn't make me nervous, I shouldn't want to squirm under his gaze. I shouldn't be scared, but I am. I don't like feeling weak. He's enjoying seeing the fear and realization of my weakness seep into my eyes.

I couldn't fight this guy off if I wanted too. His grip is horribly strong and he's drunk. I may be in a bar full of people but I feel helpless and trapped. I have no help. These men think this is funny and the other girls are busy.

I shouldn't feel scared but I am.

I try to yank my wrist way but his grip stays like a boa constrictor, "Sir, please let go of me."

"But, I need your help. Why are you refusing me service? Come on, Jinx. Don't you wanna play for a little while longer?" His blue eyes drill into mine. Panic is starting to sink into my chest, why won't he let go? Fun's over, most get bored by now. I don't understand.

He's one of those guys that loves seeing women squirm. Like seeing the weakness in our eyes. They enjoy being stronger and more powerful. He's one of those guys that likes making you feel less.

"You need to let go now." I growl out, "I'm done playing with you. Take your hands off me." My voice is louder, hoping to show I'm not feeling any affects from him.

"Oh come on sweethea- Ah, what the fuck!"

Before I know what happened his hand is being twisted back and mine is freed. He faced contorted into nothing but pain. I fall to the ground holding my wrist as the man stands up out of pain. The arm shoots out to push him back into his seat.

I look up at the new man. Dark hair and facial hair, very tall, and a dark aurora hangs around him. I can't explain it. He seems like a dark person that holds mysteries that people take years to ever get anywhere close. Closed off. Alone.

"I believe the lady here said to take your hands off. You didn't listen to her repeatedly say it. So, I did it for you. Next time I'll break your hand, understand? Learn respect. " His voice is dark, deep, and demands attention.

The pig doesn't answer so he twists it back farther causing a loud cry. The whole bar turns to look at us. The pigs buddies finally protest but he holds up a hand telling them to shut up and sit down. The man that saves me smiles when they do so then looks back at the man's hand that is bent at a awkward angle, "Am I clear?"

The pig's face is red from pain and anger, "Yes! Let go of me."

Dark Man let go and turns to look at me. He gestures a hand to me and I take it. When I stand I wipe off my jeans before I hold my wrist again. He grabs it lightly looking at it.

"You'll be fine, just a little bruising." He gives me a half smile.

"Thank you." I give a small smile in return.

"Bitch."

I look at the Pig, who clearly spoke up and was mumbling to himself. Dark men slaps his hand to the side of his head, "What did I just say?"

Pig stands up to the other man, the Dark Man still had a good 6" on the Pig. The Pig snorts, "What are you gonna do?"

"Sit down, don't start this. I will put you to sleep. I'm warning you only once." No doubt was put past me by his words.

The Pig swings on the Dark men. He grabs his fist before he hits him in the nose then once in the jaw. The sounds were horrid as the fist connects skin and as the Pig falls immediately to the ground.

I stare at the unmoved body. My eyes dance from the floor up this mans body to his face back to the unconscious pig. My doe eyes like sausages and my mouth ready to catch flies.

Who the hell was this man?

Either way, he just saved my ass. I owe him, I hate owing people anything.

// don't forget to leave a comment or vote! I love feed back.
PSA: This isn't even close to showing how she acts or her character. The fear is something she hides. Feelings aren't her thing and masks everything with anger and attitude. Trust me, she's a spit fire.
Can't wait to grow on Sin's character either and give you the story behind his unusual name. (Yes, his birth given name is Sin Marcus Fox) Haha!
Talk to you all soon, until then. I hope you enjoyed! Love yours truly.