Trapped (Grizzly MC Book 1) Page 8

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lena

  You’re doing good. You’re doing good, and I’m glad you’re here, Lena.

  I didn’t expect James to say something like that to me, but it opens up a whole new world of wonder while I work at the Grizzly Bar & Grill. Whether he’s saying it to me to make me feel better, or because he genuinely believes it, doesn’t seem to matter to me. It’s just the fact that he’s said it. It’s the fact that he went out of his way to do so and to make me feel wanted around here.

  I never felt that way at the Snake Pit. I got compliments about my body, about how I danced. I got lewd remarks because of my relationship with Marc. I never got compliments and praise. I was never told I was doing a good job at my job. Not like that.

  James, for all his distance… He’s making the effort to make me feel welcome here. I like that. I think I like it more than I should.

  “Order for table thirty-five ready!”

  “Got it!”

  It’s bustling today, and I like the fast-pace. If I don’t think too hard about it, it feels like this is what I’ve always been doing, working here at the bar, serving tables, getting to know the locals. This place is nothing like the southside of Tomahawk; there’s a lighter air here. I love it.

  I take my orders to their tables, smile, get smiles back. Nothing can ruin how the night is going.

  Except…

  When they come in and seat themselves at one of my table.

  They are a pair of Vipers. They wear their cuts as proudly as the Grizzlies that come into the bar do. While it’s neutral territory, the air shifts when they walk in, and I’m not the only person that’s got their head turned. I know they’ll recognize me. There’s been a few been in since I started here, but they haven’t caused any trouble. I think, mostly, because I’ve never had one actually in the section that I work at the bar. I’m nervous, but I go over to take their order.

  “Welcome to the Grizzly Bar and Grill,” I say. “What can I get you?”

  “Lena.” One of the Vipers laughs. “I heard the rumors but didn’t think they were true. So, you are here. Bussin’ tables for Grizzlies.”

  I shift.

  “Yeah. I am. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “You can get me something else if you know what I mean. They offering back room specials here now with you here?”

  My eyes narrow in spite of myself.

  “I can get you a drink, nothing more. I’ll be back when you’ve got something you want to order.”

  I go to turn, hoping that I can get a moment in the bathroom to compose myself before having to come back to deal with them. One of them grabs my arm, though, and pulls me closer.

  “I don’t know where you think you’re going. Whatever you’re doing here, whatever you think you’re doing here, you’re a Viper girl, and you’re always gonna be a Viper girl. That means you belong to us. You hear me, Lena?”

  I swallow. I don’t answer him as I yank my arm out of his hold and turn on my heel to head to the bathroom. I’m quick to enter and lock the door behind me, as if I’m afraid that he’s going to follow me back. I feel the hot sting of tears at my eyes, I sniffle and huff because I don’t want to cry over men like that. I shouldn’t have to cry over men like that.

  “Why did they have to come here? Why?”

  I don’t know why it angers me so much. It’s nothing that I’ve never had to deal with before. I’m honestly used to it. But to do it here, where I feel comfortable, where I feel like I belong more than I ever have—even if it is all just a ruse, even if I am playing James just to get close to him, spy on him, and tell Marc about it—don’t I deserve to have at least this small thing?

  I laugh bitterly.

  Of course I don’t.

  I wipe my face and go to leave the bathroom, but I pause when I hear a commotion outside the.

  “Hey! What the fuck?”

  It’s the Viper’s voice. I pause, opening the bathroom door just a crack to peek outside.

  James has the Viper pressed against the wall, one of his arms twisted in what looks like a painful way behind his back. The viper struggles in James’ hold, but James is bigger and decidedly stronger than he is.

  “I saw you giving grief to my waitress,” James says. “I don’t give a fuck what she was to you or to the Vipers. You come back here and harass her again, I’ll break your fucking arm.”

  “You’re fucking crazy, man,” the Viper hisses. “Lena’s a Viper girl, always gonna be a Viper girl. Dunno what she did to convince you to pull her in, but Marc’s not gonna stand for it.”

  James threads his fingers through the Viper’s hair, gripping it rough, and smashes his face against the wall.

  “You run back to your little snake-hole and tell Marc I don’t give a fuck about what he will and will not stand for,” James says. “Lena’s one of us now. Back off or I’ll make you back off. And I swear to God you won’t like it when I do.”

  The Viper doesn’t say anything more. He stands there, panting, before giving a nod of concession.

  “Whatever you say, you crazy fuck. You’re gonna regret it.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure I will.”

  James doesn’t sound convinced as he shoves the Viper away from him, like he’s something that’s diseased and rotted.

  “Get the fuck out of my bar.”

  The Viper slinks away, pissed off to high hell. James takes in a deep breath, runs his hands down his face.

  “Fucking Christ,” he mutters.

  He shakes his head, and I watch him pace the hall a few moments before he goes back into the main section of the bar.

  I close the bathroom door, locking it again as I stand there, a little dumbfounded. I’ve never seen James act like that. I’ve seen Vipers act like that, use their power to put someone else down. It should scare me. It should make me shake and shiver in fear, and I should be so grateful that I’m going back to Marc when this is all over.

  But I’m not afraid. When I shake, it’s not in fear but because I like it. James is powerful, and for the first time in my life a man in power is using that power to stand up for me, not put me down. And I believe that it wasn’t to show ownership over me, but because he actually wanted to defend me against the Vipers at my table. I’m astounded by it and moved by it all at once.

  I don’t know how to react to it. Do I thank him, when I go back out there? I’m not certain. I know that I can’t stay in here forever, though. I compose myself and head back out.

  When I get to my table, the Vipers are gone. James comes over to me.

  “They were causing trouble, so I told them to scram,” he says. “I hope you don’t mind, but they were making a muck of my bar.”

  He says nothing of what went on in the hall. I don’t think he even knows that I saw him. I don’t know if I should mention it, so I decide to keep it to myself. After all, what would be the point in bringing it up?

  I shrug.

  “It happens. It’s not like I don’t have other tables to tend to.” I smile. “Besides, it’s not like I want to deal with snakes anymore, anyway.”

  Later that evening, we’re cleaning up after the bar closes. It’s me, James, and Pete. The other waiters and waitresses have already gone, but, since I get my rides with James, I’m stuck here. While cleaning, I notice a big white truck pull around the front and then to the back; I recognize it as the one that brings in shipments.

  “Ah, fuck. Forgot about that,” James mutters.

  He glances at me and then to Pete, who nods back and jogs to the back of the bar, where I know he’s going to meet up with their delivery guy.

  I shrug and go back to work, pretending like I’m not paying any attention.

  “So. You’re fitting in pretty well,” James says to me, coming over to the table I’m wiping down.

  He’s probably trying to keep me distracted, but I don’t think I mind that too much.

  “So far, yeah,” I say. I look over to him. “It’s�
� nice here. Different.”

  “Good different, at least.”

  I chuckle.

  “Well, I’m used to spending my nights swiveling around for guys with sweaty palms and dirty money, so this is definitely an improvement. At least the sweaty palms don’t touch me.”

  “Hm…”

  James looks pensive. I give him a few moments of silence before pressing.

  “What? You’re thinking mighty hard over there.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  Looking at him, I know it’s not nothing. His brow is crinkled down, and so are the corners of his lips; he’s thinking.

  “You know, you said to me once that you didn’t believe in lying, that there wasn’t any point to it. I can see why; you’re bad at it.”

  He laughs.

  “I’m a bad liar?”

  “The worst.”

  He shrugs, as if accepting that fact. He then leans against the table, looking at me.

  “You know, you’re more than all that, right, Lena?” he says to me seriously. “All that in the past, whatever the Vipers saw you as, that’s not what you have to be forever.”

  I blink at him, not having expected that. Blushing a little, I look away from him.

  “Where’s all this coming from?” I ask him.

  “Nowhere. I just thought you should know that. You…”

  “James! My man!”

  James groans as an unfamiliar voice calls to him from the back, and we both turn. Pete’s coming down the hall with another man beside him, one that I don’t recognize. He and James obviously know each other, however. They shake hands.

  “Santiago. How’s it going?”

  “Oh, you know, you know… The usual.” His eyes flick over to me, and he takes me in, smiling as he does. “And hello there. Didn’t realize James had company.”

  Before James can interject, I reach out to shake his hand.

  “I’m Lena. I’m new here.”

  Recognition dawns on his face, and he looks between the two of us.

  “Ah, Lena. I see, I see. Pleasure to meet you, Miss Lena. I’m Santiago. James and I are practically best friends; I’m offended he’s not introduced me to you yet.”

  I laugh at James’ embarrassed irritation.

  “It’s been pretty busy.”

  “Yeah, well, we all get that. I was just in to deliver the, uh, beef and pork you wanted in this week, James,” Santiago says.

  At least he’s smart enough to not talk openly about the drug operation going on from here.

  “Sure thing. Pete can handle payment and everything,” he says. “I wanna finish up here and get Lena home.”

  “No problem.”

  Santiago and Pete go to leave, but Santiago pauses.

  “Actually, one more thing. You still on for the barbeque, James? It’s happening this weekend.”

  “Oh right. That.”

  “Did you forget?”

  “No.”

  Santiago gives James a look like he doesn’t believe him, and it’s kind of cutely comical.

  “Come on man. Tell me you’re coming! You and Lena can both come. The boys want you around.”

  “What’s this barbeque about?” I ask, deciding to interject before James could outright say that we were going.

  “Big get together of Grizzlies and Grizzly friends,” Santiago answers. “We have one every few months. This recluse hasn’t been to the last two. I’m tryin’ to get him back out there in the world!”

  “Santiago…”

  “We should go.” I look to James, whose own look is one of utter, undeniable incredulity. “It’ll be fun and eventually we’re going to have to do something other than work and stay home.”

  I’m curious about James’ life, the life he has outside of this bar and the four walls of his house. I don’t even think about it as an information-gathering opportunity. I want to see him around other people like him, for once not wrapped up in being a bartender or my unwanting warden.

  Whatever my face conveys, James sighs, and nods.

  “Fine. Fine. We’ll be there.”

  “Fuckin great!” Santiago says. “Remember to bring some grub; it’s a potluck deal.”

  With that, Pete and Santiago finally make their retreat. James sighs.

  “Well, this is going to be interesting.” He looks to me. “You really want to go to a barbeque with a bunch of Grizzlies?”

  “I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t,” I say. “It’ll be fun. I’ve never been to a barbeque before.”

  James blinks.

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  James

  It would be hard to accept the fact that Lena has never been to a barbeque, if it weren’t for the fact that I knew where she came from. I can’t imagine the Snake Pit’s a great place for functions like that. And, from what I’ve gathered from Lena, they’re not really the family function kind of people.

  So, I had to make sure that Lena enjoyed herself. I started by taking her to the grocery store and letting her pick out whatever she wanted to make for the barbeque. She flits around the store, an intent look in her eyes. She gets meats and vegetables, seasonings and spices that I’ve never cooked with before. We load up the truck after and head home.

  “You’re really into all this, aren’t you?” I ask her as she starts sorting through her loot and prepping to cook so things are ready for tomorrow. I lean back against the counter, enjoying seeing her look so naturally at home.

  “At one point, this is what I wanted to do,” she says offhandedly. “Catering. You know, making food and stuff for people.”

  “What changed that?”

  She shrugs.

  “Snake Pit needed entertainment and I was better served being on a pole than in a kitchen. Which is ironic—they all loved when I cooked.” She looks over her shoulder, and there’s a smirk on her lips. “And now, the Grizzlies are going to like it too.”

  I chuckle and I intend to let her get to it on her own. She calls to me as I go to exit the kitchen.

  “Oh no, mister! You’re helping.”

  I raise a brow.

  “You realize that I don’t cook, right?”

  “Never too late to learn, Mr. Ramen Noodles.”

  I snort and shake my head.

  “Okay—your funeral…”

  I roll up my sleeves, only to have her shoo me away from the raw ground beef she’s pulling out.

  “Wash your hands! We’re not barbarians here.”

  I like how much in her element she is here. I laugh again and go do as she says, coming back with clean, sparkling hands.

  “That good, Ms. Bossy?”

  “Mmm. So, here’s what you’re going to do…”

  I’ve never made a home-made hamburger patty in my life. There’s pre-made burgers, frozen, you can get from the store and that’s about as fancy as I get. But Lena has me pouring garlic powder, paprika, seasoned salt, herbs—the works, really—into this pile of raw beef. While she instructs me on amounts, she finely cuts onions into tiny bits, dumps those in mix along with tiny chopped mushrooms.

  “This is some gourmet shit,” I say, kneading everything together as she cracks a couple eggs in there and tosses in a small handful of breadcrumbs.

  “It’s just burgers,” she laughs. “You want the meat to taste delicious, stay moist. You have to make it taste good.”

  “And all this shit does that?”

  “You bet. Now. Here’s how to form the patties; we can cook them at the barbeque…”

  She has me form them into palm sized balls, squishing them down so we have a nice collection of fresh burger patties. We wrap them in cling film and put them in the fridge, but I notice there’s some raw beef left.

  “What’s that for?”

  “You’ll see.”

  We spend the afternoon prepping food. Lena commands the kitchen like a general, directing me smoothly through preparing baked beans, stuffed peppe
rs and mushrooms, and dips I’ve never even considered making from scratch before. I couldn’t imagine cooking a huge mess of food, let alone without consulting a ton of recipe cards, yet Lena just lists off instructions from the top of her head as though she’s got the whole recipe book inside it. It’s astounding, and mesmerizing. And, by the time we’re done, we’ve got several dishes ready to go for the next day’s barbeque. The aftermath in my kitchen is that of a culinary explosion, and as Lena and I clean up I realize something.