“We’ll have two Bombay Sapphire martinis, please,” I order for her. The bartender breaks away from Cindy to look at me.
“And can we run a tab?” I hand her my credit card as I eye the tables.
Bikers are playing on one, and the other has what looks like college guys. Before I can pick, Cindy starts to swish over to the college boys.
“Hey.” The bartender sets our martinis down. “This might not be the place for you two.” Her pretty brown eyes are filled with concern.
The bar is like a full-on dive bar. Heavy metal eighties music is blasting, and Mötley Crüe’s “Girls, Girls, Girls” is almost making me bop my head. I can’t help but smirk. There’s nothing better than a good seedy bar. Sometimes I think I should sell the diner and buy one.
Picking up our drinks, I say, “Thanks, but don’t worry about us. We’re stronger than we look.”
She doesn’t seem reassured. Instead, she shakes her bleached blond hair and goes to the end of the bar. I hate that people always think because I’m tall and thin that I’m like some sort of prissy girl. Okay, I do like makeup and stuff, but I was raised with a dad who made sure I knew how to protect myself.
I smile at a couple of bikers with their arms around some mean-looking girls. One of the dark-haired girls wears a vest that says “Property of Dragon.” I can’t help but stare for a second. The only visible body part not covered in colorful tattoos is her face.
I take a quick sip of liquid courage and almost dare anyone to fuck with us. God, maybe I do need to get laid again. The mere thought of hustling makes me wet.
“Here you go, Bobbi.” I hand Cindy the martini. She giggles and waves her hands at the two guys in basketball shorts and tank tops.
“So… Amber, this is Josh and Spencer, and they said that we could play pool with them.” She kind of jumps, causing both men and the bikers to stare as she sips her martini.
“We’re not that good at pool. Is that okay?” I bat my eyes.
Spencer, or the one I think is Spencer since I wasn’t paying attention and they both kind of look alike, says, “Don’t worry, baby. We’ll teach you.”
I want to roll my eyes, but I smile and say, “Rack ’em.”
Two hours later, I’m on my third martini and we’ve made close to a thousand dollars. Spencer and Josh were beyond pathetic pool players but had cash. Thankfully, after we took them for five hundred, they left in shame.
The crack of the balls being broken makes me try to focus on the game.
Cindy stopped drinking after the first martini. She smiles and rubs her tits against the tall dark-haired biker with a scar on his left cheek and a long beard.
He’s not cute at all but actually a good pool player. Not as good as me, but hey, unless you’re a pro, you’re not going to beat me.
I think Quiet Riot is playing or maybe it’s Metallica—whatever it is the bikers seem to like it. Two balls go into different corner pockets and Cindy jumps up and down causing the biker and his young friend with dirty blond hair to stare. I can’t help but smirk as I take a bite out of one of my olives.
“So, those other guys were no fun.” I pout and both bikers zero in on my lips.
“You guys want to make it exciting and play for five dollars?”
Cindy jumps up and down as the ugly dark-haired one looks at her. “How about we play for a hundred… and if we win you two have to show me your tits.”
This gets catcalls from behind me. My head swivels around as I take in the atmosphere. Suddenly the bar, which seemed harmless in the afternoon, seems more threatening now that evening has approached and a lot more bikers have arrived.
Whatever, I’m not going to lose. “Ummm, that’s kind of not fair.” I fake a giggle and bat my long lashes at him.
He grunts and I notice his fingernails have black grime or maybe grease on them.
“I got a thousand dollars.” He throws the wad on the table. “We win, we get to see these fucking tits.”
He points at my chest, takes a shot of something, and looks over with a disgusting, leering grin that I wouldn’t mind punching.
“And both of us get to suck on them.” He motions between him and his buddy.I purse my lips as if thinking. The noise level increases. A lot of big bikers are laughing and whistling.
“Ummm.” For the first time all day, Cindy looks worried. “That’s kind of… well—”
“Rack ’em,” I say.
She pales and squeezes past the leering biker to stand in front of me, eyes wide.