Grave Mistakes (Hellgate Guardians #1)(7)

I step to the side so I can get around him, but Sean moves in my way to block me. He crosses his arms and looks down his nose at me. “You think you’re hot shit because this is your last fucking night working here?”

Anger makes my whole body tingle, and rage floods in my veins. All of the shit I’ve swept under my proverbial rug is suddenly being ripped right out from under me. I want to wreck this bastard. I want to grab his head and knock his skull into the lacquered wood until he’s bleeding all over the bartop’s scoreboard. I am so done with his shitty attitude.

It takes a lot of willpower to shove away those wicked thoughts, but I do. I’ve had plenty of practice.

Because he’s right. This is my last night. Which means I only have to put up with this for a few more hours. It’s already eleven PM, so I just need to make it until two, grab my last paycheck—which my utility bill is counting on—and then say fuck off to Sean for good.

I set the beer down on the bar with a sigh. I’m just asking for a fucking new beer. Why does everything always have to be a fight? I’m so sick and tired of this shit. “Look, the customer sent it back; what do you want me to do, Sean?”

“I want you to do your fucking job, Delta,” he growls.

“I’m a bartender.” Not to mention a glorified waitress and janitor, I think bitterly. “My job is to serve people drinkable drinks. That’s all I’m trying to do.”

“Not today, it’s not. Today I need you to wait tables, and that means you grab the drinks I prepare and then sashay your slutty ass over to the customers to serve them. That’s all you do. Fucking simple. But you can’t handle it, I guess. So why don’t you just get your shit and go?”

I rear back. “Excuse me?”

“You fucking heard me. It’s not like you’re important, Delta. Anyone can do your job, and I got Vicky and Sara. They at least had the fucking decency to keep working until we closed.”

That’s what has a fire poker up his narrow ass. He’s pissed that I quit on him before his business quit on me.

“You’re closing,” I say through gritted teeth. “Everyone has to find a new job.”

“I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything less,” he goes on, like he didn’t even hear me. “You always were a little orphan bitch.”

My eyes go hazy with fury. But instead of my vision turning red like some people claim, mine goes pitch-black when my rage takes over. There’s something inside of me that’s not quite right. There always has been. I usually lock it up nice and tight, but I’m really tempted to let that side of me loose right now.

I hate that he knows exactly where to hit to cause the maximum amount of damage. Those violent urges? Yeah, I don’t know how much longer I can suppress them. I need to get the fuck out of here before I legit attack this dude.

“You know what? Fine,” I say, ripping the order notepad out of my pocket and slamming it on the bar next to the spoiled beer. “Give me my last paycheck, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

He snorts. “Paychecks are for working, and all you’re doing is bitching. Don’t think you’ve earned it.”

My mouth drops open as heat floods over my skin in a furious flush. “You can’t do that.”

He leans in, just to get in my face. “Yeah, I can.”

My hands curl into fists. The festering rage starts to come up my throat and burn the back of my tongue, falling out in venomous words. “I may be an orphan, Sean, but I’m pretty sure you’re a fucking failed abortion.”

My words catch him off guard, and the cocky look leaves his face for a half second.

“Give me my pay, because you know I’ve worked my ass off for every minimum-wage cent,” I tell him, looking him dead in the eye. “You’re a shitty boss, and Ollie would be ashamed of you. I’m glad this is my last night so I can be done with your bullshit.”

Sean gets an even nastier look on his face than before as he puffs out his chest indignantly. “Is that why you’re such a bitch? No old Ollie dick around here for you to suck on during your breaks?”

I gape at him, completely insulted. Not on my behalf, but on Ollie’s. The fact that he has this scum-licking nephew who would even say such a thing about him just goes to show how horrible Sean really is. “You’re such a piece of shit,” I seethe before I shove away from the bar.

“Yeah, yeah, bitch. Get the fuck out,” he drawls, his voice loud enough to cause a scene.

Before I even know what I’m doing, the inky black fury takes over. I whirl around and slap the rotten beer right off the counter. It goes spiraling toward Sean, spilling the putrid contents all over him before he bats the bottle away to keep from getting hit.

It shatters behind him on the liquor shelves, taking several bottles with it. I wince at the noise as customers look over, the volume in the bar dropping as everyone takes in the scene.

Sean and I stare at the damage, stunned into silence for a second before he rounds on me. His face is mottled with color, and he looks angrier than I’ve ever seen him before. But then his eyes glint with a vindictive edge of satisfaction, and he sweeps his hand around the destroyed glass with victory. “There goes your so-called hard earned pay. Your check will cover the damages,” he tells me snidely, making my heart sink right down to my knees. “You’re lucky I don’t file charges against you.”