Devany

Amateur night at the New Moon Pub was always busy, and the tips I made often covered the bulk of my bills for the month. Every dollar was hard earned, especially the ones that came in the wee hours of the morning after hours of listening to sour notes and flat voices. By then, most of my cheerful smile had chipped away, and sore feet made it harder to move as quickly.

Tonight wasn't much different. The person strumming the guitar on stage right now was passably gifted, and they weren't arrogant enough to attempt an original song. Tara and I hummed along with the popular tune while we pulled a round of beers for a table of regulars.

"I got it, Devany," she said, grabbing the tray as I sat the last frothy beer down. "You get the guys that just walked in."

"What the hell?" I muttered, glancing at my watch.

One o'clock. Last call was in thirty minutes, and from the way the newcomers were swarming the bar and eyeing the ladies, they were still going full steam. I knew this type too well. Early twenties. Too much money. Lead around by their dicks. They were the worst when we cut them off, because in this town, once the New Moon closed, you either went home or drove thirty miles to Crescent Cove.

"Hey Rapunzel," Dennis, my favorite barfly, called out as I passed. He held up his empty cup and shook it.

"I gotcha," I said, pausing to top him off and earning a glare from two of the men who were impatiently tapping the worn bar's polished surface with their black Amex cards.

"Thanksh, hun."

He buried his face in the foam and grinned at me. This time, my smile was genuine. If only we could all be like Dennis and find pleasure in the small things. Unfortunately, some of us were born with the deck stacked against us and contentment wasn't something easily found.

"What can I get you?" I asked the stocky redhead, purposely ignoring the more irritable man with the blonde undercut. He might be handsome if he wasn't acting like an asshole. His pissy demeanor irritated me, and I had just enough piss and vinegar left in me tonight to risk riling him up.

The redhead sneaked a worried look at his friend. Swallowing hard, he shook his head. "Jack can go first."

"I didn't ask Jack. I asked you." I folded my arms over the bar and leaned toward him. His pale, freckled cheeks flushed red as he saw my impressive cleavage spilling out of the tiny tank I was required to wear. "What do you want?"

Jack snarled. His blue eyes flashed unnaturally bright, and he pushed his friend behind him. The other guys in the group grew quiet, almost like they were holding their breath.

"We'll take a round of tequila shots. Enough for everyone here."

Lips pursed in disapproval, I snatched his card from him, pinching it between my finger and thumb like it had a contagious disease. Punching in the order, I rambled off the total, swiped the card, and handed it back to him.

"Aren't you going to ask me if I want to open a tab?"

"No. Last call is in twenty minutes."

"We can drink a lot in twenty minutes." Jack looked over his shoulder, dragging his hand through his hair and smirking at his buddies. "Can't we fellows?"

My skin prickled as they howled their agreement, their voices harmonizing better than anyone who'd ever stepped on our stage. Shaking off my unease, I decided it wasn't worth the risk of angering my boss and started a tab for Jack and his buddies.

Eight tequila shots turned into sixteen, and sixteen turned into thirty-two. Tara's eyes widened when the redhead–Trey was his name–stumbled back to their table with their latest order. He passed them out before sitting down and pulling a giggling co-ed into his lap.

"Shit girl, they're drinking the good stuff. That's going to be a hell of a ticket."

I wiped down the counters and shrugged. "I bet they don't tip."

"Like hell," Dennis said with a gurgle. "I'll make sure those boys tip you."

The front door opened, letting in a gust of winter air, and a tall, imposing figure entered. He headed directly for Jack's table. The dim lighting didn't hide the way the threads of his coat strained around his muscles, and I caught a glimpse of a swirling black tattoo peeping out from the crewneck collar of his t-shirt.

Jack's cocky demeanor slipped, and he sat up straight, like someone had shoved a rod through his back. One by one, every other man followed, some of them dumping their girls onto the floor without so much as an apology.

They walked away, grumbling and glaring. I resisted the urge to step in, since they had hurt no one. It wasn't fun, but it was one of the easier ways to learn to be more careful about who you hooked up with in bars.

My attention drifted back to the man speaking to Jack. He appeared to be a man in his early twenties, but his short hair was silver. Not gray or white. Silver. A lot like my own when I didn't have it dyed every color of the rainbow. The current lavender shade was probably my favorite, and somehow it drew less attention than my natural color.

The newcomer cuffed Jack on the back of his head as he rolled his neck from side to side, finally raising his eyes from the table. Tara and I audibly gasped as he shifted his feet, moving his face out of the shadows.

Chiseled.

I read that word in books all the time, but now I knew precisely what it meant. His face was all sharp edges and stone. Except for the ridiculously long lashes that fluttered over his haunting blue eyes, and the full, soft lips above a deep dimple in his square chin.

"What I wouldn't let that man do to me," Tara muttered at my side.

I didn't say it out loud, but I agreed with her. That was a first for me. Tara regularly went home with different men, but beyond a few rounds of oral sex in the supply closet to scratch an itch with a local named Maven, I stayed away from men. My existence was enough proof that I couldn't trust them.

Tara's elbow dug into my ribcage. "He's coming over here. Shit. Shit. Act natural."

"How can I act naturally when I can't breathe?" I wheezed, not even bothering to pretend like I hadn't been staring as he approached. He had to have seen us.

His gaze bounced between Tara and me, finally stopping on me. Some emotion I couldn't place flashed across his face. The closest thing I could come up with was hunger, but I could be confusing it with my own. Because right now, every inch of me burned with it.

"You're the one who helped my me–friends?"

"I am." Good. That sounded strong and not at all breathless.

"You can close their tab. They're done for the night."

He spoke with the tone of someone used to being obeyed, but where Jack's arrogance rankled me, this man's confidence was a turn on. I finalized the tab and paid the bill, handing him Jack's card.

"Did they behave?"

"Uh." I looked at Jack and wilted beneath his fierce glare. Fear wasn't a common emotion for me, but there was darkness within him that awakened some primal survival instinct within me. It whispered, 'Danger, run.'

"Sure."

He touched my chin with two fingers, and his nostrils flared. When he spoke again, his voice was full of grit and gravel. "Don't lie to me for his sake."

Resisting the urge to crawl over the counter and rub against him like a cat, I jerked away from him. If he continued to touch me, I was going to lose all control. What the hell was wrong with me?

"He was an asshole, but he didn't do anything bad, per se." I took a step back so he couldn't reach me.

"Mmm-hmm." The man pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket and peeled off a couple of hundreds. "For your trouble."

"No, that's too much."

But I was already reaching for them, counting how far ahead that much money would put me. It might be enough for me to move again. All the leads that brought me to Silver City had turned into dead ends long ago.

"Beckett." His icy gaze seared into me while he waited for me to respond.

"Just Beckett?"

"Just Beckett."

"Just Devany."

"What time do you get off?"

"I'm usually out of here by two thirty," I answered before my brain caught up with hormones.

Hadn't I just been telling myself that men were no good? That I couldn't trust them? Knowing his name didn't suddenly make him worthy of the risk, but I knew as soon as I spoke that what was going to happen between us tonight was inevitable.

Beckett nodded. Flipping the collar of his coat up, he motioned to the guys at the table and pointed to the door. One by one they filed out, and I might have thought how strange it was that they obeyed him like that if I wasn't so preoccupied by thoughts about two thirty.

"I'll see you around, Devany." Then he was gone, and I felt cold and empty.