Chapter Two

Chapter Two


My jeep is my baby, I have worked two jobs since I was 21 years old, and I saved all the money I was able to finally be able to buy myself a car. Granted I didn’t spend an arm and a leg because the car is 28 years old. 

I work at a small dog shelter during the day while at night I bartend. Which turns out to be the two hardest jobs anyone would have to juggle in my opinion.

During my hours at the dog shelter, I watch people drop off their poor animals because of sorry excuses like, “this dog is too much to handle,” “he's destroying everything,” or my favorite, “I didn’t realize what I was getting into.” I have always had a soft spot for animals, especially dogs. When I have to see so many put down it can get hard. Why would someone like me want to work at a place like that? Well, every day I get to be a companion to one of them. At least I know that they were shown some kind of love in the short time that I have them. There are also happy times when I get to watch an animal go to a good home.

My job at night can be even more difficult. I bartend at a small bar called Heights Brewery, which is where I am headed now. There are no words for how many idiots, pervs, and drunk assholes I deal within just one night of working. With it being a Saturday night there is always some type of drama. I’m hoping with the roads being bad, it will be a slow night.

I pull up in the big rectangular parking lot. The bar is located in a strip where there is a great pizza joint called Donnies, and some other small miscellaneous stores. The pizza is so good that my co-workers and I always managed to end up there for breaks or hang out. These co-workers are also my best friends, my only friends.

I walk into the bar waiting for the death glare I was going to get from Alley. My hopes and dreams have already been crushed by the looks of the parking lot, and the numerous people outside taking a cigarette break.

I walk in only to find the long wooden, yellow bar crowded with people. The pool tables were packed, the small tables lined up against the wall all had more people surrounding them than there were chairs, and the wide-open space is being used as a dance floor by several drunk sloppy girls trying to get attention from anything that moved.

I could see our cook, Ryan, scrambling through our little window where we grabbed all the food orders, Alley’s eyes met with mine.

“Get your ass in here now!” Alley demands from behind the bar. 

I quickly went to the back. There is a small room with lockers we put our stuff in. I threw off my coat, took off my sweater, and just stuck with my plain red spaghetti strap tank top. My black wavy hair was a mess but in a good way, I suppose, the kind of way that can get me tips. I usually put black eyeliner on to make my green eyes big and noticeable, all the more to trap hungry men with. Believe it or not, you really have to know how to handle yourself working as a bartender. So many things can go wrong, there will be lots of people that think they can take over your bar but as long as you stand your ground, and look like you are scared of nothing and no one, they will back off, most of the time. The minute they see a tiny petite girl like me they wrongly assume that I will put up with their bullshit.

I run out to the bar area where Alley is quickly trying to take everyone’s drink and food orders. There is no way we will be able to take orders like this, I immediately walk over to the water pump, pointed at the crowd, and started spraying everybody with it. They all shriveled up, put their hands over their face, and backed away, and our D.J stopped playing music. Alley looked at me in shock.

“Now that I have your attention, I want everyone to form two lines if you have a problem with it you can get the fuck out.” They pause a few seconds more and then almost as if someone pressed play on a remote, the music started playing again, and they all start forming two lines right in front of the bar.

That’s when Alley and I started to create our rhythm. The sound of liquid pouring, glasses clinking, and slamming down onto the bar. The smell of Tequila and sweet fruity mixes filled the air. It was non stop for three hours, constant shouting, loud laughing, and cackling danced around the room. It had finally started to slow down.

2:00 am had hit, the bar would be closing soon so all that was left to deal with was the drunk stragglers that would just not leave. I look around the bar and observe three groups that were just standing around and talking. Literally just here to aggravate the piss out of me, not ordering any drinks, or making me any money. Just standing around so I couldn’t close my bar. I walk out to the open area and start wiping down tables, moving the chairs all back to their correct places.

“Hey Jamie,” Ryan shouted to me. “Alley and I are going to take out the trash, and start cleaning up everything in the back. Will you be okay out here?” He started scanning the room to make sure there was nobody out here I couldn’t handle myself.

“I’ll be fine Ryan, just hurry up so we can get out of here.”

“Just yell if you need me.” He said it with a concerned voice looking in the left hand corner to a group of men standing and talking quietly. They don’t seem to be drinking anything but they are having a very intense conversation.

They were all dressed like they had just come from some formal gathering or something. The tallest one had his back to me, he seemed to be angry with the way he is moving his hands and arms. The other men were just staring at him intently, as if their life depended on whatever he was saying.

I turned my attention away from the men and looked to see if Ryan was still standing there, but he had already gone to the back. Alley was nowhere in sight either.

“Looks like this is all me,” I say to myself. I walk back to the bar noticing a singular older guy, probably in his mid forties, standing there, or should I say wobbling there. I turn to face him when I get back behind the bar.

“Finally… s-some service.” When he got a good look at me his eyes brightened, not even trying to hide it, he moved his head down to look directly at my breasts.

I started to really observe him. He was extremely large and muscular, not in an attractive way at all. But definitely enough to make me cower a little, hopefully I didn’t show it.

“You are a pretty thing, ain't you?” This is disgusting, so disgusting that I don’t even think that I care about his tip.

“Sorry sir, but the bar is closing up, we were actually about to start clearing it up.” There is still thirty minutes until I can tell people to leave, I am definitely lying without any cares given.

“That’s okay, You don’t look very busy, I’m sure you can make it up to me in some way.” He started walking behind the bar, and now I really started to panic.

“Ryan!” I yell. No one came to the door, and no one answered me. “Excuse me sir but you are not allowed back here. I strongly suggest you get the fuck back before I call the police.” I tried to make my voice sound loud so someone would hear me and possibly help, but everyone’s attention is away from me.

“Oh sweetheart, we both know that there’s nothing you can do here. You have no power. There’s no point in fighting. Just try to enjoy this, okay?” He moved so close to me I could smell the alcohol on his breath. He placed his hands on my waist and slowly started to rub them all over me. I try to pull away, and fight but he is too strong.

“RYAN!” I tried to yell again holding tears back. He then put his hand over my mouth. He pushed me down to the ground forcefully, and then got on top of me, he proceeded to rip my shirt in half exposing my bra. I still kept trying to fight, I fight with every ounce of strength I have. Then all of a sudden I see a large light skinned hand resting forcefully on the man’s shoulder.

“Mi scusi signore, Cosa pensi di star facendo?” Excuse me sir, what do you think you are doing? The voice was deep, and filled with so much authority, and speaking in a language I didn’t understand, it sounded like Italian. The man slowly started to stand up.

“We were just having some fu...” Right as he stood up, all I saw was him fly back into the pyramid of liquor bottles behind him. But the man who I assumed was Italian was not finished with him. I finally got a better look at him when I sat up trying to cover myself as much as possible. It was the same man I had seen earlier, talking with a group of men. If I thought he was angry then, there was no questioning it now. He was light skinned, another clue that he might be Italian, and he looked young but was very tall, muscular, and broad; this time it was definitely attractive. I think the shock is getting to me. 

I admire his black, gelled cropped hair, which went perfect with his light caramel skin. He did have facial hair, but I could tell he usually shaves it, it looks like it’s just now growing back in.

After he had pushed him into the now shattered glass bottles, the man tried to get up but the Italian walked towards him, and picked him up by his shirt with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

“Il tuo sangue non vale la pena spargere al momento.” Your blood is not worth spilling at the moment. He held him there by his throat, I look at him in shock… is he going to kill him?

“Please! Stop!” I say frantically. 

He looks over at me, with piercing, golden brown eyes, and grunts loudly as he drops him to the ground. I hear the man gasp for air that probably sobered him up. The Italian straightens up his tie and pants, took one last puff of his cigarette before putting it out, and walks over to me with the sound of glass crunching at his feet. 

“Angelo!” he yelled as he bent down to me. Another young man in dress clothes ran behind the bar with a black dress jacket. He hands the jacket down to him and quickly walks away. The Italian reached his arms around me placing the jacket over my shoulders. Then offering his hand to help me up, I accept and we both stood face to face.

“Are you okay?” He speaks English, thank god. 

Fighting to hold back any tears, I nodded my head yes. I even smiled a little to make it more believable. Finally the door to the kitchen opens and Ryan came out holding a bunch of empty crates. He must have been stocking the freezer which is why he couldn’t hear me. Alley came stumbling behind him. I know exactly what she was doing; Ryan immediately dropped all the crates in front of him, and stood there in shock.

“What the hell happened Jamie? Did he do something to you?” Alley stood there next to him with a look of concern, and also like she was concentrating on not being drunk. I turned to look at the stranger, he looks infuriated again.

“No! He saved me.” I nod my head toward the man passed out on the floor.

 Ryan seems to be even more upset at me defending the stranger, and I don’t understand why. “Why didn’t you come and get me? What am I going to do about the damages to my father’s bar?”

 I look at him in disbelief, that’s what he was worried about? His father’s bar? “Are you…” 

A louder, much more powerful voice cut me off.

“Well, leaving a singular petite woman in a bar with a bunch of drunk men holds you just as responsible.” His voice would make anyone quiver in fear, but at the same time smooth, and inviting. It is confusing me. 

He then took out his wallet and pulled out a check book. Took a pen from the jacket pocket I had on, accidentally touching my bare skin giving me chills up my spine. He scribbled something down really angrily and fast. “Here, this should cover any expenses. Hopefully it will look better in here than it did before. Out with the old, in with the new right?” he said with a cocky grin on his face. “Cazzo outanna,” Fucking prick, he said under his breath as Ryan grudgingly took the check out of his hand.

“Are you okay Jamie, do you want me to take you home?” Alley said. I looked at her and shake my head.

“I’ll be alright, I don’t want to leave my jeep here.”

“I’ll drive you, one of my security will not mind driving your jeep home... Jamie.” He said my name like it was velvet flowing through the air, it kind of made my heart drop a little. But, wait, security, who is this guy? I finally look out over the bar at all the men I saw standing with him earlier. They all were dressed very professionally, it was like they all came from a funeral or something. Very strange.

“Security...? Look, I can drive home. I’m perfectly able.”

“I will not let you drive home by yourself Jamie.”

“Who do you think you are? Let me? I am a grown ass woman.” He looks at me with a surprised look on his face at my sudden change in demeanor. Then he started laughing at me, for a good minute too. All his men were giving each other confused, weary looks.

“Please Jamie, can I take you home?” he stops laughing and gives me a serious, authoritative expression. I feel my body start to shake, like all the adrenaline was starting to wear off, then I realize I do feel really weak; riding with the guy won’t kill me, I suppose. He did just save me, and stand up for me all in one night. There’s no reason to not trust him. 


“Okay,” I sigh. Ryan stands there fuming, I don’t understand why he is acting that way.

“Jamie,” he walks up to me and grabs a hold of my arm.

“Are you sure you should trust him? You only just met him.”

“Now you are concerned with my safety? Get your fucking hands off of me.” He stands there for a minute in silence, looking at me with sadness in his eyes. I feel horrible but then I remember he didn’t give a shit about me a minute ago. He was more concerned with the damage done to the bar. I jerk my arm off of him and walk back to the small locker room to grab my things.


She walks away with a fierce aura around her, something I would not have expected from her when I first saw her tiny fragile body laying under that sick bastard. And who the hell does this prick think he is, grabbing her like that? Is this woman magnetized to pricks? Why do I care? I snap out of my daze to the sound of someone speaking.

“Don’t think I don’t know who you are Marcellus Giordano. My father warned me all about you, and what you call a family. I’ll let you get away with taking her home, but you better stay away from Jamie after this. I better not see you in my bar again.” I stared at him, looking at him straight in the eyes, showing no emotion.

“If you really knew who I was, I promise, you wouldn’t be making threats.” I made the coldness vibrate within my tone, but still giving him a blank expression. I felt my men gather closer behind me.

“Marcel, per favore, non abbiamo piu'bisogno di spargere sangue inutile.” Marcellus, please, we do not need anymore pointless blood spilled. Angelo my right hand, the only person that can tell me to do anything.

“Angelo, non ti preoccupare, non ho intenzione di fargli male solo spaventarlo,” Angelo, don’t worry, I am not going to hurt him, only scare him, I said with a devil-like grin while looking into the boys eyes, the expression on the boys face is priceless as I glare at him wickedly. 

Then I hear tiny steps walking in the room, making my attention turn away from him.

“I’m ready,” her voice is so attractive, and melodic, almost making me lose my front. I take a good look at her as she stands there awkwardly, and shy. There is no denying how tantalizing she is. She has black, long, wavy hair that went along with her olive skin. The most extraordinary green eyes that stood out so vividly. Her chest, and curves that were very much exposed a moment ago, are now covered in an all black hoodie, but even then hugged the outline of her body magnificently. She isn’t very tall, or thin but fills out very nicely, a lean figure. 

“Um, here is your jacket,” she says awkwardly. I have been staring for much too long apparently. 

“Thank you. Shall we get you home?”

“Sure.” She rolls her eyes and starts to walk out the door.

“Jamie!” the drunk girl said, “I’m staying at your house tonight!” They must have been close because all she did was nod her head and say, “See ya there!”  We walk out to the car silently, not saying a word to each other. 

All I could think to myself is, “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” I ignore the thought and open the car door for her before I realize she is behind me at a stand still. Her face is full of confusion, staring at my Masserati

“Wow… who exactly did you say you were?”

“Marcellus. Marcellus Giordano.”

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