Couple Of Strays

1. The Tankard

There wasn't a man alive that could change her mind about men.  Kenna had seen it all and always came away disappointed.  The bruises on her face had healed over, leaving her flawless golden skin to shine through once more.  Her beautiful blue eyes were tired looking, puffy beneath her brown lashes and bloodshot from too little sleep and too much marijuana.

The flashing neon lights across the street from the gas station were enough to have her temples throbbing, but she ran across the way for the chance at hot food that didn't come from a case.  The Tankard flashed in big cursive blue letters beside an outline of a busty waitress in pink lights.  Perfect, she thought. 

The interior was much the same as the bars she used to frequent in Oakland with Dax.  Dingy barstools, old men, and stained tables decorated the otherwise bare establishment.  Bartenders in skimpy clothing being oggled by men in ballcaps and cowboy hats served drinks with fake smiles and rolled eyes.  It would have to do.

"Excuse me?" Kenna took a seat at the bar and flagged down the woman pouring drinks in a revealing black tank top.

"What are you drinking sweetie?" The blonde asked as she served the two glasses of whiskey to the men beside her.

"Water, please." The bartender nodded and filled up a glass.  "Actually," she added once she had her drink, "I was wondering if this place was hiring?"

"Hiring?" The woman stopped pouring drinks and looked her up and down.  Kenna fought the urge to shrink away from her gaze.  She didn't look like much with her hair up in a messy bun going on three days without a wash, her fingernails dirty, and a pair of shorts that looked like they may as well be a pair of denim underwear.  It was all she had though.  Dax had filled her wardrobe for her with impractical clothing she was usually freezing in, but it turned him on.  Dax was a lot of things, but nice was never one of them.  Being turned on was as close to his nice side she'd ever gotten.  "Hey Walker." She greeted another patron that took a seat beside her on the right.  "Honey, have you ever been in this bar?" The bartender turned back to her.

Walker peered over at her curiously from his stool.  His dark hair contrasted against his pale, yet weathered, skin.  "No." She didn't want to explain how she came to be there.

"Jimmy!" She hollered over the heads of the men in front of her.  A scrawny strawberry blonde man looked up from the pool table.  He wore a denim jacket lined in sheep wool with a crooked grin.

"Do we need to order more drinks, Stacy?  Too slow to stay open again?" He asked politely.

"You're good, Jimmy.  I was just interviewing someone looking for a job." She nodded to Kenna who narrowed her eyes at the statement.  Walker wasn't taking his eyes off her.

"Please don't make me do that again." Jimmy whined and lolled his head back.  She glanced between the two of them, contemplating her next move. 

"Well, no one is twisting your arm!" Stacy snapped, placing a hand on her hip in mock offense. 

Kenna raised a brow and stood up, setting her water down.  "Look, I just got into town and I was just checking to see-" 

"Shit, Jimmy don't be a pussy." The man, Walker, growled behind her in a southern drawl.  She froze when she felt his hand grope her ass and give it one big squeeze with his palm.  Before she could think it through, she whirled around and let her fist collide with his jaw.  Walker fell back, knocking into the group of men playing pool and breaking a chair on his way.  Blood seeped out of the corner of his mouth and she felt every eye in that bar blazing into her soul.

"Holy shit." Jimmy breathed.  The men at the pool table pulled Walker up to a stand.  Her cheeks burned under his stare while he locked eyes with her.  She watched him wipe the blood away with the back of his hand.