Asa (Marked Men #6)(4)

My hands were full, so I just moved my entire body into her path to stop her. Avett took after Darcy way more than Brite, her dad. Brite was a giant of a man with a beard that I was sure had folk songs written in its honor. Avett was petite and barely came up to the center of my chest, and she had to tilt her head back in order to keep glaring up at me. What she lacked in height, she sure as hell made up for in bad attitude.

“Put it back. Don’t do it again and this is the last you’ll hear about it.” When I was irritated, the South tended to be heavy and thick in my voice, and not in the same way it was when I used my drawl to get something I wanted or to make someone think I was nicer and stupider than I really was.

“Get out of my way, Asa.”

“No. You don’t get to steal from Rome. I don’t care what your beef with Brite is and I don’t care that you obviously would rather be out wrestling wild mountain lions than working here. I’m not letting you take advantage of Rome. He’s a good guy and he deserves better than that.”

We had a glare-off and for a second I thought she was going to try and step around me knowing my hands were occupied, but I think there was some kind of invisible thread, some kind of aura that we shared that made her instinctively know that she could get away, but not for very long.

She huffed out a breath that sent her pink bangs dancing across her forehead. She would be a really cute girl if she wasn’t such a pain in the ass and practically a decade younger than me. She was just a kid really and she sure as shit acted like it.

“I’m going to a party and I don’t have any money for beer. I didn’t think it would be a big deal to take a twelve-pack from the cooler. After all, my dad practically handed this bar over to the soldier for free. A few beers seems like a fair trade.”

I rolled my eyes. “It wouldn’t be a big deal. You know that Rome wouldn’t care if you asked him. But walking around like you’re owed something for some unknown reason isn’t all right with me, and I’m not going to let you do it.” I furrowed my eyebrows at her and shifted my weight. “How can you be broke? You just got paid on Friday.” Since she worked in the kitchen, I knew Rome paid her an hourly wage. It wasn’t enough to retire on but it was enough that it shouldn’t be gone in less than twenty-four hours unless she was up to no good.

Instead of answering me, she whirled around and went to put the beers back in the cooler. I waited until she came back out, and made her lead the way out of the kitchen back to the bar. I had been gone long enough that the band was done with their set and that meant a crowd had gathered and Dixie was standing behind the bar trying to catch orders up. I nudged Avett with my elbow and deposited my haul into her hands. I pointed to Royal, who was sitting stoic in the middle of the rush, her head bent down and her gaze locked on the bar top.

“Feed the redhead. Make sure she eats it, and if I ever catch you trying to steal again you’re out of here. I don’t care what I promised Brite or how much it would break Darcy’s heart.”

She gave me a baleful look and muttered just loud enough that I could hear it, “Funny coming from you.”

She wasn’t wrong. It was ridiculous coming from me, so I ignored her and dove into the mess of trying to sort the rush out. It was only half an hour until last call, so it proved to be a little trickier than usual. The weekends at the Bar were getting busy enough since Rome’s remodel that I thought maybe I was going to have to ask him about hiring another server as well as a bouncer. Business was good, and in order to keep it that way we needed to make sure the crowds got service just as good as the battered old veterans that littered the place during the daytime hours.

I tried to keep an eye on Royal. I was worried she was going to try and leave before I could talk to her and before I could judge if she was sober enough to drive, but she was in the same spot, head bent down, eyes focused on the bar, and her water was gone. She had also put a good-sized dent in the food in front of her, so that made me breathe a little easier. She was abnormally quiet and I wished I had thought to grab her shirt for her when I pulled her out of the crowd earlier. She looked rumpled, like she had just climbed out of bed, and that wasn’t doing a thing to help me remember why I needed to get her out of the tailspin she had been in ever since the week before Christmas.

I got last call done. I paid the band and thanked the lead singer for helping me out with the frat kids, and he in turn asked me if I thought Royal would be interested in going on the road with them as a backup dancer. I had to laugh and broke the news to him that she already had a full-time job. I didn’t bother explaining what it was because I doubted he would believe me anyway. I helped Dixie clear the floor, and when we started to move people toward the front doors, I stopped next to Royal’s side and told her, “Hang out for a minute.”

She didn’t respond but she pushed some of her hair out her face, tucked it behind her ear, and looked at me out of the corner of her eye.

I took that as silent assent and helped Dixie get everyone outside and gave her a hand putting all the chairs up so that the cleaning crew Rome hired could spit-shine the place before we opened again tomorrow. Dixie and I had a system since we did this together six nights a week, so it was work that went by pretty quickly. When I was done I went behind the bar, poured myself a Dalwhinnie on the rocks, and took myself and my drink back around the other side of the bar so I could sit on a stool next to Royal. Everyone teased me that I should drink bourbon or whiskey, being as I was from Kentucky, but I preferred the smooth and dirty taste of scotch. It sort of fit since I was both those things myself.