Her Only Salvation Page 2

  “Damn it!” Sliding his chair back, he stood up and brushed the shards of glass from his worn jeans. A string of expletives rolled from his mouth as he took in the damage. Blood ran down his fingers, pooling into his palm and dripping from the back of his hand to mix with the golden lager spilled across the table.

  “Oh my gawd, are you okay?” a high-pitched voice squealed. He looked up in annoyance as a slim blond hustled over to him with a wad of paper towels. “You poor baby,” she cooed, pressing them into his hand to stanch the bleeding.

  “It’s nothing, just a cut.” He mumbled gruffly, pulling his hand away while closing his fist around the paper.

  “That’s way more than a cut, sugar.” She bent over, quickly wiping the mess from the table while giving him an eyeful of her ample cleavage.

  Randy cleared his throat and scanned the crowd. Not finding his object of obsession, he felt the immediate stirrings of rage build up inside his gut like a ball of fire threatening to consume him. Somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear the blond prattling on about blood and stitches, but he wasn’t listening. He was more concerned with where his little vixen had disappeared to. But he wasn’t quite ready for a reunion. No, not yet.

  Pulling the wallet from his back pocket, he snatched a bill and slapped it on the table, then disappeared out the side door. He jabbed his hands into his jacket pockets and trekked into the parking lot. The blue 4x4 gleamed under the glare of lights. Slipping behind the wheel, he twisted the keys in the ignition and felt the truck roar to life. He cranked up the heat, then settled back and peeled the bloody towels from his injured hand. His palm was riddled with cuts oozing blood. Crumpling the paper in his fist, he flipped on the radio with a huff. That woman was a pain in his ever loving ass. One thing he could always count on, there was never a dull moment when she was around. Resting his head on the back of the seat, he focused on the back of the building where she would be appearing shortly.

  Chapter Two

  Brent knew he had had too much to drink. That’s the way it was when you were in college. You drank heavily because that’s what was expected. Besides, what was the point in being twenty-one if you didn’t take advantage of it?

  His parents badgered him all the time about his drinking. For some reason, they thought he was an alcoholic. They just didn’t understand how it was. You had to flow with the crowd if you wanted to be a part of it. And Brent was trying hard to get inside the frat house by the end of summer.

  A couple of his buddies put him up to hassle one of the waitresses earlier as part of his initiation. They were easy here, providing services other than taking orders for drinks, and the guys had assured him he could score.

  Unfortunately, the one he chose wasn’t playing.

  She was a pretty thing, with long, jet hair and flashing jewel-green eyes, but she had a chip on her shoulder or something because he couldn’t get her to talk to him let alone entertain the offer he was prepared to make.

  Looking around, he saw that half of the group he had come with were already gone. The other half were tipping back drinks with gusto and moving to the beats the speakers were pumping out.

  Brent was tired, his stomach and brain filled to bursting with beer. He had classes in the morning and he wasn’t even sure he would be able to make them at this rate, but he had to try if he wanted to keep his scholarship. His grades sure as hell weren’t cutting it anymore.

  Tapping Marcus on the shoulder, Brent nearly fell when the guy spun around and stumbled into him. He helped Marcus right himself and blearily straightened his clothing.

  “I’m heading back to campus.” Brent jerked a thumb toward the door.

  Marcus’ glassy eyes followed the gesture. “Yeah, man. Cool.” He turned back to his date and forgot Brent was ever there.

  Brent felt a bit slighted, but it wasn’t like him to feel sorry for himself. He knew that he was still the low guy on the totem pole. Soon, though, he would be fully part of Marcus’ group, then he would be laughing right along with them.

  Drawing his shoulders back, he headed woozily for the exit.

  The bouncer, a muscled black guy with a goatee and hard eyes, pushed the steel door open, and Brent slipped passed him. The night air was still nice for this time of the year, the humidity low and the temperature mild. Tolerable.

  Brent fingered his keys, locating the little fob as he stumbled over uneven ground toward his red Jetta. He just needed to get home, take a few aspirin and sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a killer.

  ***

  Randy was staring out the windshield waiting for his tramp of a wife to reveal herself when the pretty-boy asshole he had watched fondling her emerged. He watched him trip over his own feet several times as if the ground heaved and rolled beneath him. Although his car was parked just feet from the entrance, the obviously drunk college kid seemed to be having difficulty traveling that distance.

  Finally giving in to gravity, the boy crumbled to the asphalt, landing on his hands and knees, and gave up the contents of his stomach to the ground beneath him.

  Randy saw his opportunity, and took it.

  Shifting into drive, he let off the brake and let the truck start its slow roll forward.

  “Thou shall not covet,” he whispered, angling the truck until the kid was in his crosshairs, then flipped on the high beams and stomped on the gas.

  The impact of the boy’s body was solid against the grill of the sturdy 4x4. With a whump! the truck easily plowed over the insignificant scrap of flesh and bone and continued its path. The tires bumped a couple of times and recovered, squealing as Randy flew out of the parking lot and disappeared into the night.

  ***

  Something was going down outside. Terri finished filling a pitcher of draft and lining glass cups up on her tray. She kept her eyes on her work, but her attention was focused on what was happening around her. A flurry of excitement had people evacuating the dance floor and their tables and crowding out the door.

  “What the hell’s going on?” Luke yelled, storming from the hall that led to his office.

  “No clue,” Cathie replied. “They all just started hollering and running like cattle from the slaughter.”

  Luke shouted at his bouncer, Ray, to close the doors. “Don’t let anyone else out until they’ve paid their bill,” he commanded.

  From behind the bar, Terri and the other waitresses waited to see what would happen next. If it became mob scene, Terri was prepared to bolt for Luke’s office where she knew the door to be sturdy, and then lock herself inside.

  As predicted, the patrons trapped inside began shouting their protest, encroaching slowly on Luke and Ray, who didn’t look concerned in the least by the threat.

  Pointing over their heads, Luke directed their attention back to the bar. “If you want outside, go pay your tab first!”

  A tension-filled silence followed his statement, and then one by one the group disbanded, forming a line in front of the counter. Cathie stepped up and began ringing them up. Terri relaxed a little and picked up her tray with shaking hands, prepared to deliver her order now that things seemed to be dying down.

  Luke waited a minute longer to be sure everything was under control, then disappeared outside. In the brief moment that the door opened, Terri’s ears captured the frantic sounds of something terribly wrong happening. Just as fast, it was shut out again, the hollow sounds of rock ‘n’ roll vibrating the club walls.

  “Here you are, gentlemen.” Glasses were passed around the table. Terri used the full pitcher to get the men started, then placed it down between them. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

  “No thanks,” the man with the green bandana and rough southern voice responded.

  Effectively dismissed, Terri checked on her remaining customers then found her way back to the bar.

  “What’s he doing?” she asked Sara, pointing to Luke. He now stood with his back to the bar, the phone pressed firmly to his ear and one arm resting high on the wall in
front of him.

  “Calling the cops, which is just what we need around here.” Sara popped her bubble gum while she finished preparing a margarita.

  Terri knew the last thing Luke wanted was police showing up and tromping around. They might ask questions, and Luke tried to avoid being in situations where he had to answer them. This wasn’t the kind of business that welcomed inquiries of any kind. Customers came here because they got good service and were guaranteed anonymity. If cops started crawling around, the waitresses could lose clients, and at worst Luke could lose his club.

  It was best if people kept to themselves, and problems were handled quietly. That was why Luke ran such a tight ship. So it must have been bad if he was the one calling the police.

  Terri hung around until Luke was finished making his call.

  She propped her hip against the counter, resting on her elbow, and addressed his profile. “Everything okay?” she asked. She knew it wasn’t, obviously, but it was the only thing she could think to say at the moment.

  A tick started in his jaw. “If your definition of okay is having one of my customers get mowed down in my parking lot, then yeah, everything is just peachy.”

  Terri gasped at the news.

  Damn it!” Luke’s fist slammed down on the bar. He knew an incident like this could ruin everything he had worked for.

  Terri placed a hand meant to reassure him over his fist and squeezed it lightly. “It will be alright, Luke.”

  Eyes blazing with anger and irritation turned on her. “How the hell would you know.”

  “I…”

  Turning his back on her, Luke tore down the hall and out of sight. Moments later she heard the door to his office slam shut, even over the deafening pulse of music.

  “Sorry,” she muttered. Picking up a damp cloth, she began wiping down the bar.

  Cathie was talking to a few of the waitresses who had been attending to some side business earlier as she came to sit at one of the stools.

  She knew better.

  The stools were reserved for paying customers only. Luke didn’t allow the women to sit down at the bar unless it was after hours, or the club was dead, in which case it wouldn’t matter anyway.

  Terri looked around, performing a brief head count. Despite those who had left when the commotion began, the place was still operating at half full. She turned narrowed eyes on the women, but didn’t voice her objection. She was still relatively new here and had no wish to start making enemies.

  Marianne, an attractive woman with straight, golden-brown hair and wide, piercing blue eyes talked animatedly, her hands gesticulating as she spun her tale.

  “He was gorgeous,” she said. “Had hair the color of sun-bleached wheat and eyes of the deepest brown with flecks of gold in them. Seated at table fifteen, he didn’t see me coming.”

  Terri listened intently, swirling the rag in circles on the bar counter. Her imagination had already crafted a vision of this man, and she didn’t like was she saw. He reminded her of her ex. She shivered, but kept listening. She hadn’t heard a good story in a while, and these women always had something spicy to share, even if most of it was embellished.

  “So I walked up behind him intending to offer him another drink.” She dropped her voice and leaned in conspiratorially.

  Terri had to strain to hear her.

  “And maybe something more.” She winked, and the women giggled.

  Terri pursed her lips and set back to work cleaning. She never could understand the appeal of selling your body. Was money really that important? It didn’t seem that way to her. She would rather be poor any day than sacrifice her morals and reputation over a few extra dollars.

  “So, I round the table to stand in front of him. And girls, I tell you what, the man was shocked stupid when he looked up at me, like a man who's seen Jesus himself. Next thing I know he’s squeezing his beer in his fist, and glass is flying everywhere.”

  Sara gasped, raising her hand to her throat. “Was he alright?”

  Marianne shrugged a slim shoulder. “He looked pretty cut up to me. I offered him some paper towels and next thing I know; he was out the door.” She flicked her hair over her shoulder. “I figure he was just embarrassed at having seen such a pretty thing like me.” She smoothed her hands down her curvaceous figure. “Few men can handle all this.”

  Terri rolled her eyes at the same time Luke decided to make an appearance. “Get back to work,” he hollered.

  The women leapt off their stools and tore off in opposite directions, searching for something to do. Seeing that his foul mood was still firmly intact, Terri kept her eyes down and found some glasses that could use polishing.

  Luke stomped across the floor and poured himself a glass of water. Gulping it down, he placed the empty cup in the small sink basin and turned to survey the room.

  Terri didn’t try to make small talk this time, not after what happened the last time. Instead, she cleaned around the human pillar parked in front of the taps. He would have to move sometime, but she wasn’t about to tell him that.

  She could feel his eyes on her as she moved about the confined area.

  “The police said it was a hit and run.” Luke’s voice was gruff, tortured.

  Sensing his need to unburden himself, she put the glass she was cleaning down and met his eyes. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” He broke eye contact, staring at the shelves of liquor above her head as if deep in thought. Eventually, his gaze shifted back to hers. “They said since it was on my property, I might be facing a lawsuit.”

  Terri rose up straight. “How is that possible? You weren’t the one that ran someone over.” Anger for Luke’s situation had her fisting her hands against her sides.

  A shoulder lifted and fell. Luke sighed deeply, as if he were exhausted by the whole ordeal. “It all depends on whether the guy lives or not and how much he can tell the detective about what happened tonight.”

  “What do you mean, if he lives? How serious was it?”

  Luke smirked humorlessly. “Every hit and run is serious, Terri.”

  She raised an eyebrow at that. “Duh. What I meant was…” She shook her head. “Yeah, I don’t know what I meant.” She huffed at her own stupid remark.

  Retrieving his cup, Luke poured himself another glass of water. He sipped it slowly, thinking. “The guy was only twenty-one,” he stated, as if that should clarify everything. The look she gave him said it didn’t. “He left my club falling-down drunk, intending to drive home.”

  Terri winced. The dram laws said that bartenders, and anyone else who served alcoholic drinks, were supposed to monitor how much was too much for any one customer. If they looked like they weren’t handling it so well, they weren’t allowed to leave unless it was by cab or some other designated driver. It was a good rule that kept a lot of heat off of the Sunset Black.

  “Okay, but how can this be held over your head? He never drove away, and they can’t prove the guy who hit him was drunk,” she pointed out.

  “Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have some responsibility to make sure my customers make it home safely.” Pushing off the bar, Luke returned his glass to the sink without finishing it. “If he wakes up, he might decide I didn’t hold up my end. If I’m sued, I’ll probably lose this place in legal fees alone.”

  “Well what about this driver? Didn’t anyone see who it was? What kind of car they were driving? Anything?” Terri felt desperate for answers. It wasn’t even her business to save, but she felt a kinship with Luke, and that made her concerned with what happened to him in his life.

  He had offered her a job when no one else would. She was uneducated and hadn’t worked since the day she married. To top it off, he treated her kindly, something she hadn’t experienced in years, and he was her friend. Those she called a friend she stood behind fully. His fight was now her fight, as far as she was concerned, and anything she could do to keep him from losing his livelihood—his dream—she would do.

  “One
of the witnesses said they saw a late model blue pickup speeding away. They didn’t get the plates or see who was driving, though. So they probably won’t catch the guy, which leaves just me, unless that boy recovers and gives us something good to go on.” Reaching out, Luke placed a gentle hand against Terri’s cheek. “Hey, you’re all pale. What’s wrong?”

  She didn’t know how she could’ve missed it, but her eyes were wide open now. The guy at the club earlier with the broken beer bottle and the driver of the truck in the parking lot responsible for running down one of their patrons…

  Shaking now, Terri peered up at Luke hoping he wouldn’t confirm her worst fears. “Who was the victim? The guy they took to the hospital.”

  “Terri, I don’t see how—”

  “Please,” she pleaded, “I have to know.”

  “It was that guy who hassled you tonight. The college kid.”

  Terri’s legs crumbled beneath her. Luke’s quick reflexes made sure she didn’t fall. Scooping her into his arms, Luke carried her quickly to his office before anyone noticed what had happened.

  Luke place Terri on a very smart-looking sofa in his office. He left her long enough to close the door, then returned, pulling up his desk chair and sitting down to face her.

  “Want to tell me what just happened out there?”

  Terri shook her head. Words failed her. They were all locked up in her throat. Blood pounded through her veins, making her pulse thunder inside her ears.

  Rubbing two fingers across his chin, Luke studied her. “Okay. Do you want to go home, Terri?”

  She thought about it. The idea of going back behind that counter, walking around the dark club floors where someone could be watching her, and she’d never know it, terrified her.

  “Yes” was all she could say.

  “Okay then.” Luke stood and rounded the desk. He slid open a drawer and drew out a set of keys. “I’ll drive you home.”

  Terri’s attention snapped back to him. “What about my car?”

  Luke held up a hand. “Leave it. I’ll pick you up tomorrow afternoon on my way in. Your car will be fine until you get back.”