Getting Rowdy

“I suppose.” Melancholy tinged her soft voice. “I’ve never been in love.”

“That’s a problem for you?” Because it sure wasn’t a problem for him. In fact, he liked it that she hadn’t fallen for anyone.

Avery shook her head. “Dad wanted to see me settled down. But it never happened. I traveled a lot after college. I wanted to see the world and my parents indulged me. Getting a job, marriage and all that...it didn’t seem that important.”

So why was she working for him now? Still seeing the world? Maybe experiencing the other side of life?

He’d met women who wanted to try slumming it. Didn’t matter to him. In his bed, rich or poor, they all screamed out the same during a hard climax.

If Avery wanted a walk on the wild side, he’d show her just how hot the wild side could be.

He was curious about Avery’s motives, but digging into her psyche would have to wait. “We have a tail.”

Confused, she stared at him. “What?”

“We’re being followed.”

“Oh, my God!” She twisted to look out the rearview mirror. “Who is it?”

“No idea.” Her reaction dumbfounded him. He’d half expected her to laugh, to say he was being paranoid. Instead, she’d shot straight into panic mode. “Hang on, babe. I’m going to lose him.”

She said “Wha—” as he accelerated around a corner, and the word ended in a gasp.

Grabbing the door, she braced herself as he took another right, then a sharp left. His tires squealed obscenely loud in the dark, quiet hours of the night.

He stepped on the gas, barreling through a yellow light on the empty street and turning again down a narrow road. Killing the car lights, he pulled into a parking lot and stopped, but kept the car idling just in case he had to gun it out of there.

Arm on the back of the seat, Rowdy looked over his shoulder, watching.

Voice trembling, Avery whispered, “What are we waiting for?”

Concentrating, Rowdy didn’t answer her, and half a minute later, the car sped past them on the main road. A fancy new model, silver, four-door hybrid. Facing forward again, lights still out, he put the car in Drive and turned.

Who the hell would be following him, and why? It was bad enough that it happened, but with Avery along for the ride? Heads would roll.

In a killing mood, he asked, “You okay?”

She stared at him for too long before saying, “Yes. You?”

“I’m fine.” Why wouldn’t he be? Taking back roads, he got them on track again. She still looked shaken, her eyes a little too wide, her shoulders stiff. He remembered how nervous she’d been outside the bar, watching the darkness as if the boogeyman might jump from the shadows.

He didn’t take Avery for a timid woman easily spooked. Something else was going on.

When he reached over and put a hand on her knee, she didn’t pull away. “Sorry about that.”

She hugged herself. “You’re sure the car was following us?”

“Afraid so.” He’d spot a tail every time. It was like his senses kicked into gear, alerting him. “Hazard of my life. You can’t live as I have and not make a few enemies along the way. Course, it could’ve just been someone who recognized the car. It has a previous history all its own.”

Avery looked around at the late-model Ford. It ran well, but the interior had seen better days. “What does that mean? Did you win the car in a card game, too?”

“No, but I bought it cheap from a guy who lost in a card game and needed some fast cash before he got beat with a tire iron.”

She stared at him agog. “You’re not joking.”

“No.” A million stars lightened the skies to a smoky gray and more traffic joined him on the road, but no one else followed. “Who knows what else he was into?”

Not that it mattered. Whoever had been behind them didn’t realize what he’d started. He’d find the bastard and put an end to the cat-and-mouse game before Avery was further upset.

“Fascinating.”

“You don’t sound scared.” Not anymore. He gave her knee one final squeeze and returned both hands to the wheel. Avery wasn’t the typical frail cookie who fainted at the first sign of danger. She wasn’t a hardened ballbuster, either, immune to the plight of others.

In so many ways, under so many situations, she surprised him again and again.

“I was scared.”

“I know.” And still she’d handled it well. No real hysterics. She hadn’t freaked out and distracted him. She hadn’t even complained about the insane way he drove.

“Not that scared,” she said, sounding peeved. “Mostly I’m curious.”

“Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?” So far she’d wanted to know everything about him. And wasn’t that a kicker? Women usually only wanted to know how to get him into bed, and occasionally how to keep him afterward. They cared no more about his past, his motivations or aspirations, than he cared about theirs.

With still-trembling fingers, she tucked her hair behind her ears. “I know I said I wouldn’t keep grilling you....”

“We’ll be at your place in another five minutes.” He could have made it in two, but no way in hell would he risk having his past follow her there. He’d continue with the jumbled route just in case. “Ask whatever you want until then.”

“You’re sure?”

Being frank with her, Rowdy said, “If I don’t want to answer, I won’t.”

His honesty brought her brows down in a frown. “You won’t lie to me?”

“Nope.” At least, not this time. If it ever became necessary, well then...

“What about the bar?” She pulled one knee up to the bench seat and twisted toward him. “How’d you get it? You did a quick turnaround with the sale.”

And here it had felt unending to him, waiting to see if he’d get the liquor license, if he’d pass the background check. He knew he’d gotten lucky, and that having a cop for a brother-in-law had helped expedite things. “I made the owner a cash offer he couldn’t refuse.”

She tipped her head. “Cash?”

“It’s not like I’ve had a lot of need to spend what I make.” In the past, he’d kept Pepper as comfortable as he could, bought the most basic necessities and paid as he went for everything else. “When you have little, you spend little to maintain.”

Her tone, her mood, her expression, all turn tender. “Now that you’ve put down roots, you have insurance and utility bills, upkeep and employment, supplies and—”

“Set down roots?” Jesus, that idea made him jumpy. “Don’t remind me.”

“Why not? You do an amazing job. You’ve already turned things around. Everyone loves the bar, and everyone loves working for you.”

She was playing fast and loose with the L word all of a sudden. Did Avery love working for him?

“You made Ella pretty happy with that raise.”

“She deserved it.” Truthfully, he enjoyed handling the books, working a budget. He’d been fortunate with employees, too. Avery made a terrific bartender, even if it drove him nuts to see other guys hit on her. All he really needed now was someone to help Jones in the kitchen. “In some ways, it’s a lot like a high-stakes card game. I’ve always been a cautious gambler, but I still play to win.”

“Cautious?” She gave an incredulous laugh. “You forget that I know how much trouble the bar was in when you took over.”

He grinned. “Yeah, but I got it cheap.” Someone would even call it a steal. “As a legit business it was hemorrhaging cash. It was only the drug trade bringing in money, and even the idiot who’d been running it knew that was about to come to an end.”

“You told him that the cops were on to him?”

Rowdy shook his head. “I let him think rival competition was moving in.”

“You?”

“I’ve known plenty of thugs and how they work, enough to make it believable.” Hell, he’d been hustling the street since he was a kid.

Rather than be disgusted with his low associations, Avery looked awed. “That’s ingenious.”

So far, the only thing that seemed to upset her was him getting a blow job. It’d be best if he didn’t share that thought with her, though. “The dumbass cut his losses and bailed. Good riddance.”

“Given he let women be abused, I’d say you let him off easy.”

When Avery looked at him like that, like maybe he was more than trouble, more than a speed bump in life, it...hell, it both bugged him and made him feel a foot taller.

And she’d called him dangerous.

“I used him, Avery.” She deserved the bare truth. “I used that whole fucked-up scenario to get what I wanted.”

As if the circumstances didn’t matter at all, she nodded. “You also lent a hand to the police.”

“Yeah, so?” Helping the cops was just a side effect of doing what he wanted.

“And now that your sister has married, you have the law in your family.”

Did she have to twist his guts with his newly changed status? He cringed, still unused to the idea. “Logan’s all right. He’s not like most cops.”

She put her small, cool hand on his forearm. “Or maybe he is, and it’s just that you haven’t known the standard.”

No reason to argue the point. “Maybe.” He pulled onto her street—and got a new focus for his discontent. Street lamps were broken, some buildings vacant with the windows boarded up, graffiti everywhere. The muscles of his neck knotted, and he murmured with sarcasm, “Home sweet home.”

“Don’t judge.”

Oh, he’d judge all right. Something didn’t add up. He knew all about dirt poor, and he knew about disappearing. If Avery only wanted cheap rent, there were more secure places.

His little bartender wanted to hide, probably where no one would ever think to look for her.

He’d honed his instincts on a cutthroat society that ate the weak. He recognized the signs on a gut level.

Now he had to decide what to do about it.

Unaware of his darkening mood, Avery pointed. “Last apartment on the left.” She picked up her purse from the floor and began digging for her keys. “You can go in the second driveway and pull around back.”

Worse and worse. The back of the two-story structure butted up to the parking lot of an all-night convenience store. Three scruffy men hung around, drinking, smoking and talking too loud. No good ever came from a scenario like this. Even as Rowdy parked, he heard the breaking of a glass bottle, followed by loud guffaws and a few rank curses.

The stiffness of his neck crawled all the way down to his toes. He clenched his jaw. “I’ll walk you in.” A statement, not an offer.

Avery didn’t argue. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” She gripped her keys tightly in one hand.

He noticed a small can of mace hanging from the key ring. Did she honestly think that’d do her any good?

Circling the hood of the car, he reached her just as she stepped out. He took the bag holding the T-shirts and apron.

“Usually,” she said, “the fast-food restaurants and liquor store are still open when I get here, and they help to light up the lot. I’ve never gotten in this late, though.”

And she never would again, not if he could help it. “Where does the bus drop you off?” He looked around and saw nothing but trouble waiting to happen.

“One block down. Not far. It’s only a pain if it’s raining.”

For the love of... He’d gotten through a lot of ugliness in his lifetime, but right now, seeing how Avery lived, he was about as grim as a man could get. “Come on.”

Hooking her purse strap over her shoulder, she looked around with apprehension, not at the men—who Rowdy considered the obvious threat—but again at the shadows. “Guess I should pick up a flashlight, huh?”

Or a gun. Maybe a bodyguard or two.

But with him nearby, she didn’t need anything or anyone else. He would protect her.

“Doesn’t matter.” More often than not, the dark had been Rowdy’s friend. In so many ways, he was still more comfortable in it than in the light. As he walked with her to the back entrance of the tall, narrow brick building, he eyed the motley trio hanging out. Given the way they watched Avery, he wondered if he should talk with them, make sure they understood—

“Behave, Rowdy.”

Yeah, she picked up on his cues as easily as he picked up on hers. “I am behaving.” And weighing my options.

“I don’t want any trouble, so ignore them, please.”

He had a feeling there’d be trouble regardless of her wants. “Are they always there?”

She kept her attention on the apartment building. “Or their ilk. It’s not like we’ve had introductions so I can’t say for sure if it’s always the same men.” She sorted through her keys. “So far it’s been fine. No big problems.”

Little problems, he knew, could sometimes escalate into a tsunami of threats. While Rowdy waited impatiently, Avery struggled to get the key to work the old rusted lock.

One of the men must’ve been feeling brave, because he took a few steps closer and called out to them in a drunken slur. “Ain’t had no ponytail in a while. Maybe I can be up next?”

The other two chortled, offering their encouragement and egging on the drunken bum. The comments continued, going from Avery’s hair to her ass, getting more crude by the second.

When another bottle broke, that one too close to be an accident, Avery nearly dropped her keys.

“Let me.” Rowdy took the keys from her and opened both locks, then pushed the warped door open.

The guy moved closer, probably no more than three or four yards behind them. “What will five bucks get me?”

More hilarity, some cheering on. “Might get you a handy,” his buddy called out.

“Or a least a flash peek of that bod.”

“Yeah,” the nearest man demanded. “Five bucks for a peep show! Prove you’re a real redhead.”

And Rowdy decided aloud, “Fuck it.”

Oftentimes it was better to confront a problem head-on instead of trying to avoid it. This was one of those problems.

As he shoved the bag of apparel back at Avery, she said, “Don’t you dare!”

He gave her one stern look. “Get inside. Lock the door behind you.”

“Damn you, Rowdy Yates—”

Shaking off her clutching hands, he moved farther away from her while assessing the group.

What he saw was no challenge at all, not as long as Avery went in and secured the door so he’d know she was safe.

The group looked to be late thirties, early forties.

Drunk and dumb.

He understood both firsthand.

Staring at the leader with dead eyes, Rowdy walked toward him. “Got something to say?”

Too wasted to understand his precarious position, the fool gave a loud laugh. “If the honey is taking on customers, I’ve got some change I can spare.”

Eyes narrowed, Rowdy kept up a steady but unhurried approach. As he drew closer, the man balked, dropping his hands from his hips, looking back at his buddies. As one, they crowded in with silent support, chins out, shoulders squared, mouths sneering—and strides staggered.

Rowdy curled his mouth in a mean, provoking smile. “I know you’re firing on liquid courage, but you really might want to rethink this. Whatever bullshit you’re considering, I’ve been there and done it better.”

“I’m thinking it’s three against one.”

“Lousy odds for you.” Rowdy stopped only inches in front of the other man. “You’ve shown your ass and had your fun. But nothing else is happening here. Not this time. Not ever with her.”

One of the men, heavily bearded like a damned yeti, tried to move to Rowdy’s side. Rowdy stopped him with a look. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

The brazen one laughed. “You seriously want to fight all of us?”

“There wouldn’t be a fight.” The burning urge for violence uncoiled inside him. “I can prove it if you need me to, but it’d be easier on all of us if you just moved on.” Easier on Avery, for sure. He knew when this ended, she’d give him all kinds of hell.

Soured beer breath assaulted Rowdy when the man bumped closer to him. “We’re allowed to be here.”

Rowdy didn’t budge an inch. Sometimes men just needed to let off steam. He got that.

Hell, he felt it himself right now.

“Here in the lot, sure.” He leaned in—forcing the shorter man to lean back. “But you’re not allowed to disrespect her or bother her, and you sure as hell aren’t allowed to get near her.”

In a belated bid for control, the guy lifted both hands to shove Rowdy back.

Bad move.

Using his momentum against him, Rowdy pulled the fool forward, off balance, and clipped him in the face with his elbow. The drunk sprawled to the ground, landing on the rough gravel with a painful curse.

The yeti swung but Rowdy dodged the fist, then delivered one short jab to the bloated beer gut. On a sharp exhalation, the bigfoot went down hard over his buddy.

“Fucking asshole,” the third man said, charging forward.

Rowdy leaned to the left and brought up his knee, catching the shorter man in the chin. He stumbled backward, stood frozen for a second and then crumpled to the ground.

The first man showed signs of life, groaning from beneath the ape. Rowdy stood there, fists clenched, wanting him to get up. He still sizzled with unspent tension.

He wanted, needed, a real fight.

What happened instead left him very dissatisfied.

The third guy slid on the gravel until his feet found purchase, then he lurched away, a hand to his nose to stem the flow of blood. He literally fled the scene and never once looked back.

Well, hell.

The second guy sat up, grumbling and holding his big gut. Calling Rowdy names in a low, whiny voice, he got to his feet. Meaty arms wrapped around his belly, he staggered off after his buddy.

The first man down stay sprawled on his back.

Rowdy crouched beside him. “You’re a disappointment, man. I really wanted to take you apart, but you’re drunker than I realized.”

“Fuck you,” he grumbled in a very slurred voice. Unbelievably, he curled to his side and stopped moving.

Narrowing his gaze, Rowdy waited—and heard the drunk’s breathing even out. “No way.” He nudged the guy, but only got a snuffling groan that went back into a near snore. Rowdy shot to his feet. “Goddamn it.”

“I take it you wanted more sport?”

Jerking around, Rowdy found himself facing three other guys. This group was younger than the first, physically fit and from all appearances, clearheaded.

A slow smile lifted his mouth.

Maybe he’d get the fight he wanted after all.

CHAPTER FIVE

THE YOUNG MAN who’d spoken smiled right back. Watching the drunks retreat, he said, “Relax, man. We’re innocent bystanders, just taking in the show.” Stance relaxed, he shrugged. “Not that there was all that much to see.”

“Unfortunately.” Rowdy did a quick evaluation. This guy looked to be early twenties, maybe six-two. Dressed in jeans, sneakers and a flannel shirt, with a stocking cap pulled over his hair.

The worn clothes didn’t hide a ripped physique.

The smile showed confidence, and maybe even amusement, which meant he wasn’t worried about handling himself.

The two behind him looked more ragtag, and while also fit, more on the average side. One of them held a cola can and an expression of boredom. The other crossed his arms over his chest in a show of antagonism.

They weren’t intimidated by the pathetic beat down they’d just witnessed, and why should they be?

Rowdy hoped like hell that Avery stayed put in the apartment building. “Out for an evening stroll, huh?”

Cockiness widened his smile even more. “Something like that.” He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and nudged aside a broken bottle with the toe of his shoes. “Loudmouths and litterbugs. What’s the world coming to?”

Poverty had carved false daring into many personalities, maybe even his own. Rowdy would disabuse the young men of any forward intent right now. “They can be as loud as they want, and trash the place for all I care. But they won’t—”

“Go near the lady? Yeah, I got that.” He looked over his shoulder at his pals. “You guys mind picking up these bottles? Some kid will come through here and shred his feet.”

To Rowdy’s surprise, the backup came forward and began picking up broken glass.

“I’m Cannon Colter.” The talker gestured with his shoulder to the apartment building. “You live around here?”

The door to the apartment squeaked like a horror movie when Avery tried to sneak it open. Shit, shit, shit. Should he lie? Should he say he was with Avery each night to deter any thoughts of bugging her?

Cannon leaned forward. “We don’t do that, so relax.”

Feeling like an unscripted extra in a very bad play, Rowdy said, “Do what?”

“Hassle women.” Cannon shook his head. “Not our thing.”

“So what is your thing?”

He withdrew a little, looking up at the lightening sky, then the convenience store, before giving Rowdy a direct stare. “We grew up here. I hate seeing those creeps foul the place up more than it already is.”

“Is that so?”

“And I have a little sis.” He lifted his brows as if that explained everything.

Being a big brother himself, Rowdy supposed it did. Cannon—and here he thought Rowdy was an odd name—didn’t want his sister bothered by the scum. He dared a quick glance back, but luckily, even though Avery had poked her head out the door, she’d stayed inside as he’d...asked. Okay, so it’d been more of an order. He’d apologize for that as soon as he got this wrapped up.

Cannon looked at Avery, too. “Sorry, man, but she sticks out like a sore thumb.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“She’s gonna draw drunks like flies to manure.”

Glad that Avery hadn’t caught that comment, Rowdy fought off a grin. He could only imagine how she’d react if she heard that particular comparison. “Yup.”

“You’re the first guy she’s brought here.”

Good info, even if it wasn’t any of his business. “You noticed?”

“I pay attention.” His brows lifted. “And she’s pretty noticeable.”

Rowdy couldn’t help but be curious. “How long has she lived here?”

“About a year or so. Something like that.”

“She’s always on the lookout, too,” another offered.

“Yeah. She is,” said the smallest of the three, which didn’t really make him small. “She’s real cautious.”

Rowdy would call that smart, given the area. “Have you actually seen anyone bother her?”

“Nah, but if you want, we can keep an eye out.”

Cannon grinned. “She keeps that li’l bottle of pepper spray in her hand and she mean mugs anyone who looks her way.”

“You?”

Cannon lifted both hands. “Not me. We already settled that, right? But I’ve seen other dudes looking her over.”

Rowdy scowled. It took him less than three seconds to make up his mind. Pulling out his wallet, he took out three twenties, one for each of them, with an equal number of business cards for the bar. His cell was listed below the bar number.

Holding out the bills and cards, he said, “Think of this as a down payment. You ever see anyone bothering her, call either of the numbers. Ask for Rowdy. I’ll pay you for the trouble.”

The temperature dropped about ten degrees in Cannon’s expression. “Keep your money.” He took all three cards. “I don’t need to be paid not to be an asshole.”

Slowly, Rowdy withdrew the offered bills. “All right.” He’d rather bust his knuckles on a hardheaded bully than insult an honest man’s pride. “Sorry for the misunderstanding.”

“Forget it.” He studied the card. “You’re Rowdy? As in the owner of the bar?”

“You know it?”

“I know you kicked a bunch of dope dealers to the curb when you took over.” He met his gaze. “Appreciate that.”

“It was my pleasure.” Rowdy got the feeling that Cannon took the cleanup of the bar as a personal favor. For a young guy, he had his nose in a lot of business. Interesting. “If you’re ever in the area, stop in for a drink on the house.”

“I just might take you up on that.” He shoved one card into his back pocket and went to his friends to hand out the other two. “See you around, Rowdy.”

Watching the three of them cut across the lot and disappear into an alley, Rowdy decided he’d do a little research on Cannon, as well as the car that had tailed him.