"I don't know where you're from, but that doesn't fly around here." TJ is still scolding my behavior a day later. "You don't want to be on their bad side."   

I finish drying the last glass and wiggle it into place under the bar. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume that it's a bit too late to worry now. You know, no crying over spilled milk and all that."

Whitney, one of the weekend dancers, laughs as she hops up to sit on the bar. "You're crazy."

"Heard that one before." I wink at her, putting the rags away and closing up the cases now that we've got everything prepped for tonight.

"Well I can see why." She eyes me with a toothy smile. "Seriously, Becca and Ren are the only two who actually talk to them, especially to Daimon. He asked me for a private dance once and I was terrified the whole time that I was going to accidently pee in his lap. And you know, not all men are into that."

I laugh so hard that I snort, and her expression stays plain. She's exactly the type of person I'd be friends with if I had friends anymore. " Well, ladies, I think I made an impression." I flip my thick sandy blonde hair over my shoulder.

"I'd say," TJ nods, eyeing me like I'm a two headed beaver. "But I don't think it's a good one."

I shrug one shoulder. "That remains to be seen."

They both shake their heads with that bless your heart look. I don't blame them. I was specifically warned about Daimon and his men, and I went and pushed the buttons like an unsupervised kid in an elevator. I may get buried in an unmarked grave out behind their creepy clubhouse, but it might be worth it to know I wiped the smile right off of that pretentious jerk.

"Where are you from?" Whitney asks, twirling her hair around her index finger.

Easy. "Everywhere."

"You got a guy?" TJ asks while she washes her hands. "Or a girl? No one's judging."

A guy. I've got a guy alright. One I wish I could ditch once and for all. But hell, I'm smart enough a woman to know that even if he weren't chasing on my tale, I'll never be free of him. He made damn sure of that. He's a part of me now until the day I finally die.

"Had a guy, he's long gone now though." At least for now.

TJ shakes her head and Whitney pops her bubbalicious bubble gum.

"Damn, with that body? Those are real right?" Whitney points to my boobs and I nod proudly. They're my super power. "What kind of fool would let a girl like you get away?"

"Interesting question." A deep man's voice makes us all jump. None of us had seen him walk in.

"Mr. Kross." TJ straightens up and Whitney goes pale. Pale-er. The girl was a rival of Casper. "Didn't see you there. If you're looking for Jeb, he's just run out for a bit. He should be back in a few."

Daimon doesn't even bother looking at her, his eyes are glued directly to mine. "No worries," He quickly shuts her up and then glowers at me. "Answer the question."

I don't want to, but something about the way he just demands it. I lose my fucking head for a minute and word vomit just flies right out of my mouth. "I suppose he couldn't tell I was hot anymore after he gave me the two black eyes that were swollen shut, but I guess you'd really have to ask him."

Whitney slides off of the bar, her voice so low and timid, total opposite of usual. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-."

"Not a big deal." I cut her off. I fucking hate sympathy. I don't even need it.

"Name." Daimon barks, the deepness of his voice rumbles something within me.

I put my hands on my hips and shake my head. "Alyssa." I raise my eyebrows. "You seriously still don't know?"

He smiles slowly, the movement a calculated decision because the fire in his eyes is nothing a normal person would smile about. "Not your name, doll face." The corners of his mouth tense and I can tell he's putting on the smile for the other two who are still watching our exchange. "His."

Yeah, I'm sure some girls would just drop their panties at a guy as hot as Daimon Kross (Yes he is fucking hot. Like hot as sin, or sin is as hot as him because surely sin originated from him and not the other way around because this man is sin personified, but still.) offering to go after the man that did them wrong, but I'm not dropping anything. Not my attitude, not my guard, and sure as hell not my panties. I don't need to be taken care of.

"What do you want his name for, darlin'? You want to beat him up for me? Teach him a lesson on how to treat a woman right?" I lay on my southern drawl, I find I sound twice as condescending when I do.

I expect to get a rise out of him, and I'll admit I'm a tad disappointed when I don't. He remains stone faced and staring. "No."

I roll my eyes and push away from the bar, grabbing a tumbler I've already cleaned and wiping it down again just so I have something to do with my hands. "Oh, I see." I look down at my work. "You want him to give you the pointers on how to deal with me?"

"No." He snaps and I hear Whitney actually freaking gasp. "Give me the name and the next time you see his face it'll be staring back at you out of the obituaries in tomorrow morning's paper."

I want to react. The old Alyssa rears her ugly head in the back of my subconscious, begging me to say yes. No more running! She screams. But I push her back. I'm never letting that bitch out again.

"Thanks for the offer, big guy, but I'm going to pass."

He makes a huffing sound. "So you're one of those girls then?"

My hackles rise. "One of what girls exactly?" I snap, gripping the edges of the bar to keep from slapping him.

"One of those girls who gets pushed around by a guy but is still just sitting around waiting for him to come back so he can do it again." His words strike a chord in me. "You're pathetic, Aly! You probably say thank you when people are done with you." The memory burns my insides. "You going to be a good girl this time?"

He's smiling and I want to take a hammer to his face. Perfect or not.

"Fuck off." I glare at him, my fingernails aching from my grip on the bar. "He comes back all the time, but I've never been great at being good." Again I don't know why I told the truth. I could have just stopped with the fuck off, I didn't need to add any more personal information.

"I can tell." I recoil like I've been touched by a snake when his hands suddenly grip my wrists over the bar. I pull but he doesn't let go. "Let me kill him then." He talks about murdering someone like it's just a walk in the park on a regular ole' murdery day.

I lean forward, our faces nearly meeting over the bar. Shit, he's even more distracting up close. His tanned skin is flawless and his amber eyes have swirls of black in them like nothing I've ever seen. Focus! "Maybe I already did." I say, lowering my voice to a seductive whisper.

He doesn't move or lessen his vice grip on my wrists. "You didn't." He whispers right back and I'm ashamed I had to press my thighs together tighter. "You don't have it in you."

"You've got no idea what I'm capable of."

One side of his mouth pulls up into a lazy grin. "I can see it in your eyes, doll."

I jerk my arms hard and he lets go, still watching me. "The only thing you see in my eyes is what I allow you to see." I'm seething, and even more I'm pissed that I let him get this rise out of me. Too late I realize this was my payback for out playing him last time.

"Now that, I believe." He leans back onto his stool, studying me like my face may hold the cure for cancer.

I slap on a plastic fake smile. "Glad we could clear that up. Your offer on the revenge murder is nice but unnecessary."

I watch as he stands from the stool, grabbing his worn black leather jacket from the stool beside him and sliding his thick arms into it. "Just say the word if you change your mind."

"I'll be sure to not do that." I nod, noticing the patch on the breast pocket of his jacket that says president. "Bu-bye now."

He smiles at me and I yell on the inside for my knees not to buckle. It's just a pretty face, and a nice body to go with it, and kind of the exact attitude that old Alyssa would be all over. Not a big deal.

"Until next time." He backs up, his eyes taking one dip down my body before he turns to head up the stairs to the side of the bar.

"Later, Kross." I flip the bird at his back and as soon as he's out of site hop up to sit on the bar.

"Yup, it's official." TJ sighs. "You're insane."

Whitney is practically dancing in place. "Yeah, I feel like I need a smoke after that."

"Becca's gonna be ill when you two bone."

I roll my eyes at TJ, popping a piece of gum into my mouth from my bag.

"Yeah she will be, but can I watch? Because that hookup is going to be hot! I'd pay the price of admission." Whitney giggles and TJ laughs too.

"Don't worry, you'll get to see it for free. It'll likely be on this bar." She pats the shiny golden wood. "I give it a week tops."

"And you two think I'm the crazy one here?" I put a hand to my chest in faux outrage. "I'm not here for a boyfriend, or a lay, or anything else that man can offer. I'm more than pleased with my good pal, Rod."

"You just said you don't have a boyfrie-."

"Rod is pink," I wink. "and battery operated and has never let me down before." I hop down from the bar and sling my bag over my shoulder.

"Thanks for coming in to setup." TJ calls as I walk away.

I wave over my shoulder as I push out into the harsh light of day. I don't tell them I'd live here and work if they'd let me. Going home alone with myself just leads to thinking, and thinking isn't my favorite thing to do anymore. Too many ghosts gnawing at the back of my mind.

I've spilled enough truth with strangers who will never be more than strangers for one afternoon though, so walk home alone I do.

And I'm fine with it.

Totally fine.