Dare To Run (The Sons of Steel Row #1)(19)

The biggest guy at the table kept staring at me, so I raised a glass to him and downed the water I’d gotten myself moments before. As soon as I set the empty glass down, he smirked and rested a hand at his hip. On his gun, no doubt.

Then he stood and moved toward me, one cocky step at a time.

My heart sped up and my muscles stiffened, but I forced myself to remain calm outwardly. When he stopped before me, he leaned on the bar casually, his back to the wall and his front to the door. Watching out for Lucas, more than likely. I knew how men like him worked. Always on guard. Always ready for the next fight.

“Where’s your man?”

I stared back into his eyes, not backing down. He was tall and muscular, but I didn’t care. It was all about appearance with guys like this, and to show him weakness or fear would be the biggest mistake I could make. “I don’t know. Working, maybe? I’m sure he’ll come in soon. He always does. It’s why we started dating in the first place. The guy just kept showing up, like a bad penny. Eventually, I gave in. Romantic, isn’t it?”

Shaking his head, he chuckled. “For your sake? You better hope so. I need to talk to him. He crossed the line last night, and this needs to be settled. I understand he felt the need to protect his girl, but thing is? No one knew you were his to protect. And if you’re not, and he lied to us . . .” He let his words trail off, staring at me menacingly.

He didn’t need to finish his sentence. I knew exactly what he inferred, and exactly how much danger I would be in if the lie was exposed. Damn it, Lucas had been right. I still needed his protection. Tossing the rag down, I crossed my arms. “That’s all fine and dandy. What can I get you to drink . . . while you’re waiting for him to show? I see you didn’t have anything on the table back there, and this isn’t a charity establishment, so . . .”

“Is that so?” He glanced down and tapped the paper on the bar that had tonight’s specials printed out on it. “Well, then . . . I’ll have four of these two-dollar Sam Adams, please.”

I gave him a small smile, being careful not to reopen my wounds. It didn’t hurt much anymore, but I figured better safe than sorry. “Of course.”

As I walked away, I felt his eyes on me. Everywhere. The attack still fresh in my mind, I had to fight back a telling shudder. I knew exactly how men like him got what they wanted . . . all too clearly. And I didn’t want him anywhere near me or my bar. But business was business, and the Patriot needed all the money it could get. As it was, I barely managed to make ends meet. The past few months had been particularity tough, but I’d be damned if I’d let it go down without a fight. I owed that much to Frankie. According to him, the Patriot had been around since the birth of our country. The way he told it, the Founding Fathers themselves had sat in this bar, plotting and planning for this very country. Whether it was true or not? I didn’t care.

This was my baby, and I wasn’t about to send paying customers away when I had bills to pay, booze to buy, and employees relying on me. I’d watch them, sure, while waiting for Lucas to show up and scare them away. But still . . .

Relying on a guy to swoop in and rescue the day didn’t sit well with me.

I took care of myself and my own on my own. I didn’t need some guy helping me. Protecting me. Not until now, anyway. What the hell had I gotten myself into? I slid the beers onto the bar and met the man’s eyes. Or tried to, anyway. He was too busy staring at my boobs to notice. I found myself wishing that I hadn’t sent my waitress and cook home when the kitchen closed at nine. But since we weren’t serving food, no service was needed, so I couldn’t just pay them for sitting around and doing nothing. I was on my own. Holding my hand out, I cleared my throat. “That’ll be eight dollars.”

“Yeah.” Slowly, his gaze lifted. “I figured that out by myself.”

I arched a brow. “I wasn’t sure if you could. I mean, math can be confusing for guys like you. So can the word no.”

“I never had a problem with math, but you’re right. I don’t like the word no or what it stands for. Never have.” He handed me a five and four ones. “Keep the change.”

A whole dollar. “Gee, thanks.”

He nodded to me once, grabbed the mugs, and walked off. Swaggered off was more like it. As soon as he was back at his table, I released the breath I’d been holding and went to the register to put the eight dollars in, tucking the lousy tip away safely.

Marco came up behind me. “They gonna be trouble?”

“Nah.” I blew out a breath. There was no way in hell I wanted Marco anywhere near this mess. Not when he was about to leave all this crap behind him, once and for all. “Nothing to worry about. I thought I told you to go upstairs. I’m fine on my own.”

“Are you sure about that?” He leaned on the bar, his eyes on the Bitter Hill Crew. They stared right back, challenging him without words. Marco straightened. “They look like trouble to me.”

I stared down at the register, taking a second to compose myself. I hadn’t told him about the attack last night, and I had no intention of ever doing so. I told him I slipped on the wet floor, and busted my face on the bar on my way down. If he knew the truth, he’d confront those guys. And if he did that, someone would get hurt. Him, more than likely. He was a good kid and an effective bouncer, but he wasn’t a match for guys like them, who killed without blinking.