who weren’t shocked by the scar, always surrounded me when the makeup faded after a long day.
“Get the fuck out.”
I jumped at the sound of the deep voice growling behind me and turned. Jax stood there, his eyes flashing and jaw tight, set in a hard line. Dumbly, I wondered why he wanted me to leave. I hadn’t done anything, and it wasn’t like he didn’t realize my face was slightly on the disfigured side.
But he wasn’t talking to me.
Of course not.
Duh.
Jax was staring down the guy on the other side of the bar, and then he was moving forward. Slamming one hand down on the bar top, he launched up over the bar, landing nimbly on the other side, inches from the guy.
“Holy crap,” I whispered, eyes wide.
I’d never seen anyone do something like that. Didn’t even know it was possible. Jax hadn’t even hit a bar stool. It was like he propelled himself over the bar all the time. Maybe that’s what he did during downtime, winging himself back and forth over the bar.
Pearl stopped in the middle of the bar floor, staring at Jax, and she didn’t look too surprised, which I found odd. His buddy at the table stood. The rest of the guys at the table were twisted in their seats, faces set, but not with curiosity. More like they were ready to jump to their feet any second.
Jax snatched the bottle out of the guy’s grasp as he slammed a hand in the middle of the guy’s chest, knocking him back several feet.
“Whoa, man, what the hell’s your problem?” White Shirt asked, catching himself.
“I said, get the fuck out of here.” Jax got right up in his face, and him being a good head taller than the other guy, it was pretty impressive. “Right this fucking second, you wannabe fucking gangster.”
“What the fuck? I didn’t do anything wrong.” White Shirt shot back. “Just trying to get a drink.”
“I don’t give two fucks what you were trying to do.” The muscles in his back rippled under his shirt. “All I care about right now is you getting the fuck out of the bar.”
“Man, that’s messed up.” White Shirt Guy cocked his head like he was about to throw down, which by the sound and look of Jax, I was going to say would be a very bad idea. “You can’t just kick me out for that shit.”
And White Shirt Guy pointed right at me.
My stomach tumbled again, and before I realized what I was doing, I’d reached up, pressing my fingers against the slightly raised line on my cheek. I jerked my hand away.
He wasn’t done. “What did you expect, man? Not my fault she’s Mona’s daughter. Ain’t like you can’t notice her face—”
“Finish that sentence and I’ll fuck your face up so badly you’ll be seeing double for the rest of your life, ass hat.”
Oh God, this was getting out of hand. I stepped against the bar top. “Jax, just drop it. Not a big deal.”
The White Shirt Guy’s face flushed a deep pink. “Aw, bro, you’re really starting to piss me off.”
Thank God his friend was up and standing beside them now because Jax didn’t seem to hear me. “Come on, Mack,” Jax’s friend said, catching him by the arm and not too gently leading him to the door. “Get the hell out of here before Jax lays into you.”
“What the fuck?” Mack exploded, causing me to jump again, and the muscles to tighten in my neck and back. “You’re not on duty, Reece, so you can—”
“On duty or off, you might want to rethink that sentence.”
Ah, so Reece, his friend, was a cop. Hands shaking, I smoothed them down my thighs, hoping this whole scene would be over soon. Everyone in the bar was listening over the music, watching the confrontation go down. That made everything so much worse.
Jax stalked them toward the door, his hands clenched into big fists at his sides.
“You fucked up,” Mack said, stopping at the door, having to get one last word in. “You think you got trouble now? You ain’t seen shit, you mother—”
“God, you guys never fucking learn,” Reece muttered, shoving Mack out the door, and as he disappeared into the night, Reece glanced back at Jax. “I’ll make sure the piece of shit gets out of here.”
“Thanks,” Jax muttered, wheeling back around. His gaze landed on me.
“Was it because of Mona?” Pearl asked in a low voice, and that answered why she wasn’t surprised when Jax had vaulted over the bar. “Did she—”
“No,” he growled, heading around the bar. “Watch the bar until Roxy gets off break.”
Confusion pulled at Pearl’s lips, but she nodded as she smoothed a hand back over her blond hair. “Got it.”
I didn’t move as I watched Jax stalk around the bar, stopping at the entrance. He motioned at me. “Come here.”
My heart was pounding, and I didn’t want to move forward, because he sounded and looked pissed, and I wasn’t sure if he was mad at me. After all, he’d relented quickly on the whole idea of me working here, but that didn’t mean he was pro Calla. The fact that a fight had almost broken out the first night I was working probably wasn’t good.
“Come here,” Jax demanded again, voice hard as slate. “Now.”
Breath lodging somewhere in my throat, my feet moved toward him. As I passed Pearl on the way out, she sent me a concerned look. I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong, but still, none of this was good.
“Jax—”
He clasped my hand, pulling me the rest of the way out from behind the bar. “Not right now.”
It took a lot in me, but I clamped my mouth shut as he led me back down the hall, toward the office. Opening the door, he hauled me inside, and my stomach was somewhere around my toes as he slammed the door shut. I tried again, but when he wheeled on me, his hand still around mine, all the words died on the tip of my tongue.
Our gazes collided for a fraction of a second, and then I dipped my chin to the left and drew in a deep breath. “I’m sorry about what happened out there. I—”
“Are you fucking apologizing?”
My gaze rose to his. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, the guy was a dick, but he—”
“You’re fucking serious?” His eyes were so dark I wondered how they changed color like that. “You have no reason to apologize for that fucking asshole.”
“It’s my first night and you had to kick someone out.”
“I don’t care if it was your first night or your tenth night, someone acts like that, then they’re out. No second chances.” He was staring down at me, and the look in his eyes was so intense it was like he could see right through me.
“You’re not mad at me?”
“What?” His eyes widened as his hand slipped up to my elbow. “Why in the hell would I be mad at you, Calla?”
I shook my head. Thinking about it, it did sound like a stupid question.
His eyes narrowed. “You can’t be serious.”
Suddenly, desperation to be out of this room, or at least change the subject, washed over me with the force of a tidal wave. “He said something about trouble—Mack did. Was he talking about Mom?”
“That doesn’t matter right now.”
I thought it did. “Then why am I back here?”
“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
The words repeated themselves through my