Hell Yeah!: Gun Shy (Kindle Worlds Novella) (2 page)

BOOK: Hell Yeah!: Gun Shy (Kindle Worlds Novella)
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Chapter Two

 

Damn.

Damn, damn, damn.

There was nothing Melissa Divine-Hadley hated more than being late, especially to a relatively new job. She was so thankful to Isaac, the owner, and Doris, the manager, for giving her this opportunity—just when she desperately needed the extra work. The last thing she wanted to do was let them down.

But everything had gone wrong today, from her alarm not going off, to a clunky old car that refused to turn over. She’d had to walk all the way here. Thank God she’d had the sense to get a place midway between her two jobs.

Even though the bar wasn’t busy yet she hated leaving Emma alone, even for a few minutes. Though it was clear as glass that Emma didn’t need her—Emma didn’t need anyone to do her job, despite her visual impairment—Melissa hated the thought of letting her down.

But Emma didn’t seem angry or disappointed. In fact, as Melissa set up her till, Emma hovered.

Hovered.

“So?” she said in a tone that made clear she expected Melissa to immediately know what she was talking about.

“So, what?”

Emma sighed. “So, have you thought about Chase?”

Oh, crap. Yeah. She should have guessed. Emma had been trying to set her up with her cousin since Melissa walked through the door. Had she thought about it? No. Not a whit. There was nothing to think about. “Of course I thought about it, Emma, and it is so thoughtful of you to think of me. I appreciate it.”

That was as close to a
butt out
as Melissa could get with Emma.

Her friend’s button nose wrinkled. “You didn’t. You didn’t think about it, did you?”

“Of course I did.” She’d thought about not thinking about it.

“He is perfect for you. He’s tall and hunky and he is so
gentle
.”

Melissa nodded, but she knew better. Most men who appeared gentle were only pretending. Baron had been the perfect gentleman…until there were no eyes on him. “I’m just not—”

“Not ready. Yeah. I know.” Emma turned away, but she wasn’t finished. “You’ve got to get back on the horse sometime, Mel.”

“Not when the horse kicks you,” she said in a sickly sweet tone. And then she regretted the edge to her words. Emma didn’t understand—thank God. She’d never been in the kind of situation that had been a personal hell for Melissa. She didn’t understand that some wounds didn’t ever go away—and for good reason.

Survival.

“I’ve known Chase my whole life. I’m telling you, he’s not like Baron.”

Melissa didn’t have the heart to tell her it didn’t matter. If, by some miracle, there were some really truly nice guy out there, who really and truly had no desire to pound his wife into pulp on a regular basis, it didn’t matter.

She just wasn’t interested.

She didn’t need a man, and she didn’t want to deal with their shit.

Her life was just fine. She had two great jobs—one waitressing at Millie’s Diner during the lunch shift, and this job at Hardbodies, slinging drinks from 5pm to midnight. Tips were pretty good. She loved her bosses and she had a place of her own. A place where she was safe and alone.

Sure, it was only a motel room right now, but soon she’d have enough saved to get a small apartment and some real furniture of her own.

The thought of decorating her own place was exciting.

The thought of having the freedom to decorate her own place was better.

And, by God, if she wanted to leave a paper towel on the kitchen countertop, she damn well would. No one had the right to berate her for something like that. Not anymore.

She wasn’t sure why she’d stayed in her marriage for so long, other than some twisted sense of loyalty—or maybe fear—but she was free now. The divorce was final and she was out. The best thing that had ever happened to her was Baron Hadley beating up the chief of police’s son in a drunken brawl. The fight had resulted in charges against her husband, and he’d gone to jail.

There had been no one to stop her exodus.

Oh, her in-laws had tried, but they’d failed.

Granted, she was worried what might happen when Baron got out—he’d been furious when she’d filed the paperwork to end their marriage—but she’d decided to let tomorrow worry about itself.

At the moment, she was happy to enjoy her freedom, pull her life together and
not
date Emma’s cousin. Not date anyone.

“Just meet him?”

Oh, Lord. Was Emma still talking?

“How about I invite him to the bar and you can look him over?”

“Look him over?” Melissa snorted a little laugh. “You can’t judge a book by its cover.” She’d been beaten by a very nice looking book. More than once.

“I agree. But I’m telling you, once you talk to him, you’ll see. He’s a puppy dog.”

Awesome.
Despite her disinclination to date any man, she would only be exposing this sweet puppy dog to a ferocious pit fighter. Baron would eat him alive.

“Thanks anyway, Emma. I really do appreciate the sentiment.”

“Oh, all right,” her friend muttered in a disgruntled tone. “If you change your mind, let me know.”

“I will absolutely let you know.” She would absolutely not change her mind. “Now, I better get my station set up, or Isaac might just take me in the back room.” They shared a chuckle; the owner’s proclivities were no secret amongst the staff of Hardbodies. He and his wife often slipped off to the playroom, lovingly referred to as the dungeon.

Melissa didn’t understand such inclinations. She was even more mystified by the loving relationship between the Dom and his sub. She’d lived beneath a man’s boot for the past seven years and she’d hated every moment.

But there was a world of difference between Isaac and Avery’s relationship and her marriage to Baron. For one thing—and this was odd—despite the dynamics of their play, Isaac didn’t seek to control Avery. He never belittled her. In fact, it almost seemed as though he cherished her. Sometimes it even seemed as though Avery were in charge, not Isaac at all.

Weird.

But the two of them seemed happy together. That was all that mattered. It was hardly Melissa’s business.

It was just…unfathomable.

“Would you do a quick round?” Emma asked.

“Sure.” Melissa tied on her apron and headed onto the floor. Most of the people here at this hour were regulars and even though she’d only been working here a few months, she already knew their drinks. It only took a few minutes to check in with all of them.

The only table left was a booth in the corner where Joseph McCoy sat with a stranger. It took her a fraction of a second to size the new guy up. He’d be a straight whisky kind of guy.

He was a tall man, and broad, made more ominous still due to the fact that he was dressed in biker leathers and sported a long scraggly beard. She’d always hated beards on men. They hid too much. She didn’t bother meeting his gaze. That was, until he responded to her, “Can I bring you something else?” with a slow, sexy drawl.

“Whisky, ma’am.” Two little words and they sent frissons of unexpected pleasure shafting through her.

Against her will, she looked at him. Their gazes clashed, clung.

Damn, he had beautiful blue eyes. Her attention flicked to his lips, framed as they were by that beard. They shouldn’t look so kissable. Or maybe she shouldn’t notice how kissable they looked.

She was still a woman, despite her vow of celibacy, and her body responded to his magnetic presence.

That in itself was reason enough to keep her distance.

She was about to spin on her heel and head back to the bar when Joseph stopped her. “Say,” he said. “You two probably know each other.”

Melissa blinked, and then glanced back at the bristly bear.

No.

He was not a man she would have forgotten.

“Andy grew up in town too.”

Andy? She didn’t know anyone named—

Oh, hell.

Her gaze sharpened. She tried to see past the beard and the leathers and the weathering of his face. He was older. Harder. Remote. But the eyes she remembered.

“Andrew Grant?” she asked through a lump in her throat.

A waft of regret blew through her like a hot wind.

She remembered Andrew from way back when. From a time when she had been young and carefree. When her parents had been alive and her boyfriend had been sweet. When life had seemed to be full of opportunities.

“He’s here to settle his father’s estate.”

Of course. She’d heard his dad had passed and in a momentary flight of fancy, had imagined buying that old house she’d once thought so perfect.

“I am sorry for your loss,” she said and to her surprise, his lips twisted.

But his only response was a gravelly, “Thanks.”

“Andy, you remember Melissa Hadley?”

“I remember Melissa Divine,” he said with a devastating smile.

Hell. Hell on wheels.

She looked away.

The need to escape rose in her so she nodded to the two men and with a quick, “Nice seeing you again,” she headed back to the bar to get their drinks.

But her mind was in a whirl.

Andrew Grant was back in town.

The years had turned him into a powerful, dominant, alluring man. A man who stirred feelings inside her. The kind of feelings she swore she would never succumb to again.

Nothing could more effectively decimate the peace she had so painstakingly created than a man like that.

One thing was certain. She needed to avoid him like the plague.

 

 

Andy stared after Melissa as she scuttled back to the bar like a frightened rabbit.

He didn’t remember her being skittish, and he hated to think what might have happened to make her so. It was an energy he recognized—having seen it so many times in his mom. The thought made him sick to his stomach.

“So…” he said. “Hadley?”

Joseph snorted and shook his head. “She married Baron right out of high school. They moved out to his ranch, so we didn’t see her much until…”

“Until what?”

“Until she moved back to town.”

For some reason, Joseph’s frown was grim so Andy asked, “Why did she move back to town?”

“The usual. Divorce.”

That howl of satisfaction at the news was probably below him. But if Melissa was divorced, she was available. His inclination to stay in town for a while grew.

“Irreconcilable differences?” he asked casually, though there was nothing casual about his need to know.

Joseph huffed a laugh. “I suppose. He liked to beat her up and she preferred not to spend every other weekend in the hospital.”

Holy. Fuck. The acid churned in his gut as his suspicions were confirmed. “That bad?”

“Probably worse. She never reported him.”

Yeah, sometimes victims were too afraid of their batterers to get help, and in some instances, as with his mother, the victims were practically prisoners. Until one day things got out of hand and then they were just dead—

“Of course, Baron didn’t keep it in the family. One night he got drunk and beat the shit out of Tom Connolly.”

“Wait. The police chief’s kid?”

“Not a kid anymore. And not afraid to press charges. Her hubby is doing time for battery.”

Fucking-A
. “How long?”

“Five years.”
Not long enough.
“When they took him off to county, she moved into town and Isaac hired her. Took one look at her and hired her on the spot. He does that sometimes, hires lost souls. Fortunately, she’s a great waitress.”

“What do you mean, he took one look at her?”

“Oh, yeah. Apparently the night before he was scheduled to surrender himself, Baron took his frustrations out on her.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“You got that right. Her face was a mess. I don’t even want to imagine what the rest of her looked like.”

Andy didn’t need to imagine. He knew. He’d had plenty of experience staring at himself in the mirror as a kid.

“Well, good for her for leaving.” It was the first step. The best step. The only sane step.

“Yeah. We worry she’ll go back to him when he gets out.”

That did happen. But it wouldn’t. Not if Andy had anything to say about it. “How much longer does he have?”

“Nearly the full five years. But you know how that goes. He could qualify for parole if he can convince the board he’s a good guy.” Joseph shrugged. “No one had any idea he had such a temper until he blew up.”

Andy nodded. “My dad was the same. Deacon at the church. Chamber of Commerce president. Popular guy.” No one had known the hell going on behind closed doors at the Grant homestead. Not until his brother Danny opted for the ultimate escape. And even then, their father had concocted a story to cover up the truth.

At the thought of Danny, Andy’s fury rose again and scored him with sharp talons.

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