Cali: Sacrificed (Angels Halo MC Next Gen Book 11) Page 2

  The two men at the high-top table watched me come toward them. The dark-haired one licked his lips, and I winked as I placed his wings in front of him first, knowing it would bring me a few extra bills when I brushed my chest against his arm as I moved around him to place his friend’s wings in front of him.

  The dancers were strictly hands off unless the customer shelled out the cash for a private dance. For the waitresses, flirty, physical contact was particularly encouraged. I hated to touch or be touched, but giving guys the impression that they had a shot with me earned me enough in tips each night to cover my part of the bills and allowed me to set a little aside for a nice nest egg.

  With the pitcher of beer between them, I lowered my tray and touched the redheaded man’s arm. Every inch of exposed skin turned bright red at the contact, in true ginger form. If I had a soft spot for the male population, I might have felt sorry for his inability to hide his emotions. “You fellas need anything else?” I asked, giving them each a pouty smile.

  “We’re good for now, darlin’,” the dark-haired one said, his eyes on the low neckline of my top.

  I didn’t mind showing off the tops of my boobs. It was the undersides that would freak people out. The scars were hard for me to stomach, so I could only imagine how a complete stranger would feel when he saw the ugly pink lines Manuel had left behind.

  The entire time I stood there talking to them, I could feel eyes boring into me, so I lingered, letting the two men get a good look at my front and bottom. If I wanted to stay in NYC, I had to pay my bills, and this was better than getting naked on stage like Kim did. When I walked away, I let my fingertips trail over the dark-haired man’s back.

  I could feel the aggression coming from his general direction. I took my time checking on my other customers before finally stopping at the huge round booth where Garret Hannigan always sat.

  The first night he came in, he’d been with half a dozen other men in suits. Every single one of them had an air about them that I recognized only too well. The slight bulges under their jackets shouldn’t have made it past the bouncers, who would have wanded them and then patted them down before letting them through the door. Yet there was no mistaking the guns they carried.

  It didn’t surprise me, though. They worked for the Vitucci family, after all. And I was all too aware of the power that name carried, not only in New York, but across the entire country. If they didn’t want to hand over their guns, they weren’t going to, and no one was going to make them. I wouldn’t have even been surprised if the Vituccis or the Donatis or even the Volkovs owned Cherry Bomb.

  Surprisingly, they had all been respectful. All of them had been more interested in drinking, eating, and watching whichever dancer was on the main stage than me. All of them except for Garret. He’d spent the night watching me, and I’d thought it was because he knew who I was. I’d been tense that entire night, thinking he was going to call me out for being a Ramirez, even if it was just as the late Matias Ramirez’s adopted daughter.

  But he hadn’t mentioned anything about my being Calista Ramirez.

  Even more surprising, each time one of his friends even looked twice at me, he would snap at them, and they would turn their gazes back to their food or the dancers.

  When they left that night, I’d gotten over a thousand dollars in tips from them combined. Garret’s number had been wrapped up in the wad of twenties he’d personally left for me.

  The next night, he’d returned, alone. He sat in the same booth, never once looking at the dancers on the stage, and flirted with me. And that was how it had been every night for the past two weeks.

  At first, I thought he was just fucking with me, like he’d done back when I was a teenage social medial influencer. The messages he would send me, not just comments he made, but the DMs he would drop in my lap, on top of everything else I was already going through at home, had been the second worst thing that had happened to me—every damned day—until Nova had helped me escape.

  But I saw no recognition in Garret’s eyes whenever I looked into them. Just a hunger that shook me. I didn’t want to feel anything but hate and disgust for the asshole, yet my body had its own plans. My second archnemesis was the only person to ever cause this reaction, and I was seriously struggling with how to digest that.

  Placing my order pad on the tray I was still holding, I cocked my hip and gave him a tight smile. His glower turned darker. “Why do I never get the bright, flirty smiles like every other jerk-off in this place?”

  I liked that I could annoy him, but I kept my face neutral as I waited patiently for him to give me his order, although I already knew what he was going to say. Every night, it was the same thing. Macallan whisky, neat. Cheeseburger, no tomatoes. Side of loaded cheese fries. For thirteen straight nights, that was what he’d ordered, without a single deviation.

  If his mom knew he was eating like that every single night, she would be after him with a wooden spoon. But he didn’t know that I was acquainted with Felicity “Flick” Hannigan. He had no idea I’d spent the previous summer in his hometown, recovering from a broken jaw and the emotional trauma that had been accumulating for years.

  Even if he did, I doubted he would care. I might have only met Garret in the flesh very recently, but my past knowledge of him told me he was a narcissistic asshole.

  When I didn’t speak, he muttered a curse. “You haven’t called me.”

  Instead of answering, I scribbled down his usual order. “Your drink will be over, and I’ll have the cook get started on your food.”

  Turning to go, I tried to put him out of my mind so I could focus on work, but before I could take the first step away from his booth, he wrapped his huge hand around my wrist. I stiffened, but I told myself to relax. This was not Manuel. I was safe here. Garret Hannigan wouldn’t physically hurt me.

  Would he?

  He’d threatened to many, many times. But that was just him being a keyboard warrior—or so Nova had told me. His sister had assured me Garret would never put his hands on a woman with the intention of violence. And if he ever did, she and their mother would make sure it never happened again.

  Heart pounding with fear and memories of how Manuel would have already jerked me down beside him in the booth raced through my mind. He would have taken delight in the terror that was undoubtedly shining out of my eyes. And then he would have done things to me that no one would have seen beneath the table.

  Panic made my breathing come in sharp gasps, and I began to tremble as I glanced down at where Garret’s fingers were wrapped around my flesh. There was no chance he missed the way my pulse was close to two hundred beats a minute.

  “Hey.” His voice sounded far away, but because it didn’t have that thick Colombian accent to it, I was distracted enough to lift my terrified eyes to look at his face.

  He’d stood and was in my personal space, standing over me despite the six-inch heels that were part of my waitress uniform. With his right hand still wrapped around mine, although gentler now, he lifted his other to touch my cheek. “Take a deep breath, little Lis. I swear on my life that I will never harm you.”

  Seeing his green eyes helped remind me that this wasn’t Manuel. My stepbrother’s eyes were an ugly brown color, not the warm hunter green of Garret’s. I swallowed and attempted to regulate my breathing.

  “I’m sorry,” Garret murmured after a long moment passed, and my heart rate finally slowed to something that wouldn’t cause my heart to explode at any moment. Lifting my hand, he kissed where his fingers had been. Every fine hair on my body rose in reaction. When my nipples instantly hardened, I had to swallow a gasp. I hadn’t reacted like that to anyone—ever. I thought Manuel had killed that urge in me. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  “I-it’s okay,” I choked out, watching as he skimmed his thumb over a faint scar on my wrist. I remembered that injury well. Matias had been away, and Garret had made yet another comment on my social media that had baited my stepbrother. Manuel had
dragged me down to his room, thrown me on his bed, tied my arms above my head with barbed wire, and—

  Shutting down that horrible memory, I tugged my wrist free from his grip. “I-I, um, I’ll just get this order in and be right back with your whisky.”

  Garret

  A feeling I was unused to experiencing settled in the pit of my stomach as I watched Lis walk away. I hadn’t meant to scare her, but there was no mistaking how frightened she’d been when I’d suddenly grabbed her.

  In the two weeks that I’d been coming to Cherry Bomb to see her, I’d never seen her be anything but sassy. Nothing seemed to faze her.

  Guilt churned in my gut, and I gritted my teeth as I retook my seat. But my gaze fell on her ass as she walked toward the bar, and like every other time I was presented with that back view, my body turned to stone. When she walked out of view, I tilted my head, keeping those ass cheeks in sight until she reached the bartender. I couldn’t hear what she said, but I could read her lips as she called out for my drink before punching my food order into the computer at the end of the bar.

  The entire time I had my eyes on her, I was acutely aware of every other motherfucker in the vicinity looking at her too. Especially the two jerk-offs at the high-top with their hands dirty from their hot wings and their cheap draft beer quickly disappearing.

  As I’d sat there waiting on Lis, watching her with her other customers, I’d been ready to pull out my Glock and put a bullet in every fucker’s skull. Acid had burned in my throat and stomach as she’d touched them flirtatiously, letting her fingers trail over their arms or backs, pressing her tits into them.

  It wasn’t something I hadn’t seen before. Every night was the same bullshit, and I knew it was so they would leave her better tips. A waitress’s tips were her livelihood, something I was all too aware of. My family owned a bar back in Creswell Springs, California. And my aunt Quinn co-owned Aggie’s, the best restaurant in all of Trinity County. For the waitresses who worked for her, even though they were well paid, how much they earned in tips was sometimes the difference between making the difficult decision to pay rent that month or buy groceries for their families.

  But the girls who worked at Aggie’s wore jeans and tops that covered everything. Lis, however, walked around with her tits about to pop out of the top of her shirt, exposing her flat stomach. Her shorts barely had enough material to cover her pussy in the front and a string up her perfect ass. Some of the other waitresses wore fishnets under their shorts, but Lis wasn’t one of them.

  I could have called Adrian Volkov and requested he change the waitresses’ uniforms. He was a silent partner in the club, and if he made a suggestion about the work attire, it would happen. But I didn’t want to draw unwanted attention to my regular visits to Cherry Bomb. Volkov would start questioning why I was there so often, and then when he found out about my interest in Lis, he would gossip like an old lady with Ciro and Cristiano.

  It would take less than a day for the news to get back to my folks, and I wasn’t ready to examine what I was feeling for the sexy little waitress, let alone field questions from my mother about the tiny goddess who had captured my attention so thoroughly.

  The bartender placed the glass of Macallan beside Lis. Picking it up, she placed it on her tray and started back toward me. My gaze drifted up and down her body with each step she took. Without the heels, I figured she was about five-four. Her hair was down, which I loved. The glossy locks ended just above the small of her back in silky waves that I ached to run my fingers through.

  As she neared, customers at one of her other tables stopped her. She put on that flirty smile she’d never once graced me with as she listened. Pulling out her order pad, she scribbled something down before winking at the fortysomething man and continuing on toward me.

  Placing the tumbler in front of me, she gripped the tray with both hands so hard her knuckles turned white. “Your food should be out shortly.”

  “Who hurt you, Lis?” I snapped, unable to take that she had become so nervous with me. She flinched at my harsh tone, and I groaned. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. It’s just, the thought of someone putting their hands on you pisses me off.”

  She huffed and took a step back. “I’ll make sure you get your ketchup too. But maybe tomorrow night, you should order a chicken entree or perhaps a salad. All that red meat is bad for you.”

  I felt my lips twitch and fought a grin. “You worried about my heart, blue eyes?”

  That earned me another sexy little huff, but I was happy to see that she eased her tight hold on the tray. “Whatever. Eat what you want. I’ll be back when your food is ready.”

  As she walked away, the grin won, until she stopped at the high-top and started touching the thicker, dark-haired douchebag’s arm. Her laughter reached me, and I itched to pull my gun and pop the bastard between the eyes. But I’d promised Ciro and Cristiano I would do better. That I’d stop letting my anger get the best of me.

  It had been a struggle, until I walked into Cherry Bomb one night and set eyes on Lis. Between her blue eyes that couldn’t quite hide the past that haunted her and those slight curves, I’d felt like I’d had reality slammed into me. I wanted her, but it was more than that.

  I wasn’t the type of guy who was empathetic; I couldn’t sense what people needed the way my little sister could. And even if I could, I didn’t have much of an urge to fix the things I knew needed fixing for them. Yet with Lis, all I wanted to do was make whoever had hurt her to the point that she’d nearly had a panic attack when I’d grabbed her pay. That motherfucker needed to die, and I needed to be the one to take his life from him.

  And still, that wasn’t enough for me. I wanted to toss her over my shoulder and carry her out of that club. Drop her into my bed and keep her there so that I knew where she was and that she was safe. She would stay there until I built us a house, possibly beside the one Ryan wanted to build for my sister behind the mansion within the compound’s walls.

  Nova was great with everyone. Sweet and gentle—to the point of annoyance at times—but she would get along just fine with Lis. My sister would welcome my girl into the family, make sure she was comfortable, and ensure that the others treated her with the affection and respect that she deserved.

  Those thoughts gave me a moment of pause. They were gigantic ideas that I’d never considered before in my entire life. But for some reason, they didn’t scare the ever-loving fuck out of me like I would have expected them to. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was ready to settle down in general, or if Lis was simply that special.

  Her laughter reached my ears again, causing my entire body to react, and I knew the answer in that instant.

  It was Lis.

  She flirted with the two men at the high-top for a few more moments before checking on her other customers. Once they were taken care of, she went to the kitchen to grab my food. I kept my eyes on her every move, and even when she was out of sight in the kitchen, my gaze didn’t leave the swinging doors until she reappeared. A feeling in the pit of my stomach told me if I didn’t keep my eyes on her every second, she would disappear and I’d regret it for the rest of my life.

  The closer she got to my booth, the slower her steps became, and I had to clench my hands into fists beneath the table to keep from jumping up and snatching her out of this damn club. Anytime she wasn’t behind the closed doors of a bedroom—our bedroom—she needed to be covered from neck to ankle. Every inch of that alabaster skin was for my eyes only.

  But instinct told me if I tried to do any of that shit, she might shank me, which only put another grin on my face.

  Yeah, Lis would fit in just fine with my family. Both the one that I worked for here in New York, and the one back in California.

  She placed the plate with the burger in front of me, then the basket of loaded cheese fries beside it, before dropping a bottle of ketchup within reach. “No tomatoes on the burger, yet you smother the thing in ketchup?”

  I picked up a fry with che
ese, bacon, spring onions, and sour cream all over it. “I like what I like,” I told her with a wink.

  Heat filled her cheeks before she rolled her eyes at me. “I hope you have a cardiologist lined up for your thirties.”

  “See? You are concerned about my heart, blue eyes.” I lifted another fry, but instead of stuffing it into my mouth, I brought it to her lips. To my delight, she didn’t even hesitate before taking a bite—and none too gently, nipping my finger in the process.

  I groaned as her teeth sank into the backs of my index and thumb, my cock so hard, the tip started leaking. Her aggression was just as sexy as that sweet innocence I sensed right below the surface. “Ah, baby,” I murmured. “You just sealed our fate.”

  Cali

  Working from six in the evening until two in the morning, on my feet the entire time in heels, was enough to cause me agony.

  The moment I stepped into the dressing room and kicked off my shoes, I released a moan right along with half the other waitresses. Before I even started changing into my street clothes, I sat on the bench in front of my locker and started rubbing the arches of my feet on the tennis balls I kept to help with the pain.

  While everyone else rushed to get out of their uniforms, I just sat there with my eyes closed as I tried to release as much of the ache from my feet and toes as possible. Eventually, my stomach started to grumble, and I began to yawn. Tossing the yellow balls into the bottom of the locker, I exchanged my work clothes for a thick sweater, jeans, and the coat I’d found for a steal at a thrift store a few blocks from my apartment.

  Once my sneakers were tied up, I slipped my hands into the thin gloves I’d bought at the same shop as the coat and then placed earmuffs over my ears. They were childish, with little pink kitten ears on the top, but I’d gotten them for two dollars.