Slam: A Bad Boy Romance Page 2

  Suddenly, from the other side of the bar, a bang echoed. The glasses shook against the track, rattling into each other.

  Cadence whipped her head over her shoulder. Her thick mane followed, cascading onto her chest.

  “Hey! How about some service over here!?” The voice bellowed through the musty air.

  I watched her demeanor change immediately. Her back became rigid, every muscle tensed in her face. Stepping towards, him she spoke with a firmness. “Excuse me? How about you ask that again, only this time ask nicely.” An open palm rested against her hip.

  Anger rained over the man's face. “I don't have to do shit. Get me my drink and we won't have any problems.” He spoke through gritted teeth.

  “You can get the hell out if you're going to talk to me that way,” she said as she pointed towards the door.

  She's feisty, I like that. A woman who doesn't take shit, that's a fucking turn on.

  I watched him, took in his presence. He was a big guy, with long hair pulled back tight against his head in a pony tail. His muscles bulged through the tight v-neck shirt, veins pulsed down his neck as he spoke. “Didn't I just tell you to get me my fucking drink? If you know what's good for you, you'll turn your little ass around and do your job.” His finger raised close to her face.

  Who the fuck is this guy?

  My blood began to boil the more he disrespected her. I wasn't going to let this asshole talk to her like that.

  I didn't come here looking for a fight, but that shit didn't fly with me.

  As much as I wanted to have my way with her, a woman still deserved respect. I didn't care who it was, no man would ever talk to a girl like that while I was around.

  I wouldn't stand for it.

  “Look, Nico. I don't know who you think you are, but you can't just go around here barking orders. Maybe you should remember who you work for!” Cadence yelled. If her words had form, they would have been razors to tear him apart.

  The man's lip curled to one side, his body leaned in close, hovering over the bar. His image reflected back over the glossy lacquer of the wood. “I'm going to tell you one more time. I want my drink and I want it now. You have one fucking job to do, Cadence. Don't make this more difficult for yourself.” His mangled fingers gripped the edge fiercely, knuckles whitened as the blood drained from them.

  Is he trying to intimidate her?

  No, this ends now. She's had enough.

  And so have I.

  Picking up my glass, the alcohol flooded my throat. With a quick grimace it was down and I was standing. A deep inhale of the stale air filled my lungs.

  “Who the—” She began to say.

  I cut Cadence's words off before she could finish. “Is this guy bothering you?” I asked. My chest puffed out, arms rigid and flexing.

  The man turned to his buddies behind him as he spoke. “Really? Mind your own business, asshole. This doesn't involve you.” His eyes slowly reconnected to mine, a deep laugh rolled outwards into my face.

  A bubbling anger inflamed my gut. I glared into the emotionless eyes of the predator before me. My hands clenched by my sides, fingers buried so deeply into my palms, I was sure blood would soon trickle off my knuckles.

  “Quinn, don't. You don't need to do this. Let me just handle it. You don't know this guy.” Her voice was sincere. Trying to coax me out of my stance, her hand came up to rest on my shoulder.

  “Yes, I do have to do this,” I said, never breaking eye contact with him. “You need to leave.” Each word fell strong against my tongue.

  Cadence had called him Nico. She knew the man that had so wrongly talked down to her, who disrespected her with such ease.

  Regardless, Nico made the mistake of doing that in front of me.

  The two guys with him covered their mouths and laughed. One of the men in a black leather jacket hit Nico in the shoulder while barking, “Take him out, Nico.” I noticed his nose was slightly askew on his face, his smile a gaping hole of broken teeth as he nudged his friend forward.

  Cadence tried to put out the fire. “No! Knock it off! That's enough, just go home you guys.” She threw her hand to the side pointing at the door, eyes narrow as she glared.

  “What, Cadence? You don't want me to break your little friend's face?” A crooked smile spread over Nico's cheeks. The hollows of his deep sinister stare expanded wider.

  The rage inside me had filled to the brim, between the alcohol and my need to protect her—protect Cadence—from this filthy bastard, there was no stopping myself now.

  I stepped forward, brought myself inches from his face. The smell of cheap liquor and sweat filled my lungs. “This is the last time I'm going to tell you to leave. Your last warning, fucker.” The arms of my shirt tightened their grasp around my swelling muscles.

  Nico threw his hands against my chest, my stance stood strong. I was a wall between her and him. His arm came up, swinging towards my face. On reflex I gripped his wrist, twisting his arm behind him.

  With an open palm, I slammed his face onto the bar. A grunt expelled from his lips. The once glossy surface, now smeared with saliva and blood.

  Cadence stood silent. There was no opposing my dominance. No further demand for this to stop.

  If I didn't know better, she wanted this.

  I half expected his friends to step in, throw a punch from behind, grab my arms and pull me back.

  Neither happened. The room fell silent, crowd dispersed around us.

  Nico brought his elbow up, hitting me in the ribs. Releasing his arm, I stepped back, catching my breath from the jab.

  Fury filled my insides, adrenaline coursed through my veins.

  I wanted to look at Cadence, shoot her a glance that this would end here tonight. He wouldn't bother her anymore after I was through with him.

  Tomorrow he won't say shit to you. That I was sure of.

  Swiftly Nico turned, arms up ready to fight. He wasn't new to this, I could see he had a few good fights under his belt.

  His stance said it all. Arms locked against his face, feet moving around me in circles. Waiting for his next chance to strike.

  Unfortunately – for him— he didn't know me from a hole in the wall.

  His lip drew up, showing his teeth like an animal. A canine, glaring their bite at its prey.

  His massive hands lunged at my throat, my fist came up and shot between his arms, connecting with his jaw. A crunch echoed through the room. Without pause my hands gripped the back of his neck. Forcefully, I yanked his head down into my knee. The crackle of his skull was reminiscent of glass shattering against pavement. Nico's body hit the floor, falling limp, lifeless.

  Gasps from the around room filled my ears, followed by cheers, then sirens.

  Within seconds I was thrown to the floor, a knee in my back, and cuffs on my wrists. Rapidly, I searched the room looking for Cadence.

  She was off to the side, a smile on her face as she peered down at Nico. His friends pulled him to his feet; dazed, he rested against the wall. Blood was inching its was down his chin from the split lip already swelling in size.

  Her rich blue eyes shifted to mine as the police lifted me to my feet. The room roared to life with excitement.

  The lush red lips that had graced me with half a smile before, now shined from ear to ear.

  I had made my mark with her. Stamped myself in her memory.

  And hopefully, cracked the shell she was encased in.

  Chapter Two

  Cadence

  I stood dazed, staring down at the bits of Nico that remained on the counter. A piece of me didn't want to wipe them away. I wanted to case it off, have it there to remind me of the redemption that flowed through my body.

  He had always been such an asshole, placed himself on a pedestal, walked around here like he owned the damn place.

  Finally, he got what he had coming. Fucking jerk deserved it.

  The truth was, my father owned this bar, not Nico. He was just a pawn in my dad's game of chess, the m
an who always came out on top; having him around kept my dad's pockets full.

  Not tonight, though. Tonight he was kicked off that mountain.

  The towel in my hand, once a bright yellow, now mirrored the color of rust as the smears were erased away.

  A smile crept up the side of my face. Why did Quinn do that? He doesn't know me. He knows nothing about this place or who Nico is.

  Warmth filled my body, tingles roared to life as I relived that moment. My eyes closed tight, remembering Quinn, seeing his broad shoulders widen, creating a shield. The engorged muscles of his back as they flexed to life.

  My god, that was fucking hot.

  I wished I had glided my hands down his back, dipped my fingertips into the crevasses of each and every protrusion.

  His body looked hard, every piece of him made my heart skip. The instant my eyes rested on the sweet chocolate color of his, my stomach knotted, lungs shivered with each inhale of air.

  The indelible art running over his flesh made my pussy wet. A blistering passion clutched my ribs and held me there so I couldn't think straight.

  I had to admit, my initial thought was to turn and run away, despite the attraction raging through my blood. It was in my nature to fall for a man like that— dark, mysterious...

  And fucking sexy as hell.

  His 'type' fell into a class of their own. I'd been there before, used and tossed away; shoved to the side when things became dull.

  I wasn't going to feel that pain again.

  Quinn, however, seemed different. What he did for me contrasted everything I had seen in my past.

  It was hard to grasp the idea. Never in my life had someone placed themselves in harms way to help me.

  Quinn took a stand, he didn't back down.

  Shit, he could have been killed, never mind just hurt.

  There was no reguard for his own safety.

  He protected me.

  Although, after the way he moved and pummeled Nico into unconsciousness, fighting seemed to sit well with him.

  “Cadence!” The deep bellow rang from the front door as it flew open. A gust of air pressed forward, napkins flew weightlessly off the tables.

  My eyes lifted rapidly, taking in the large, purple faced man who stormed in.

  It was my father, Louis Powell, sole owner of Whiskey Sour; among other endeavors he had his greedy hands in.

  A flashback of Willy Wonka and the girl who blew up into the giant blueberry crept into my mind. I half expected him to pop; his face swelled with anger, ready to explode.

  My father's eyes bulged out of the sockets, his chest lifted heavily under heated breaths.

  If it was cold in there, steam would have spilled from his nostrils like dry ice crawling over a smooth surface.

  He stomped across the old wood floor, the walls rattled around me with the heavy weight of his feet.

  Fuck. This is not what I need right now.

  “Cadence, what the FUCK happened here!?” Using the word 'angry' to describe his tone didn't give it enough justice.

  He was fucking pissed.

  “Dad, it was just a stupid fight. No big deal, nothing was broken.” The wide eyes I had when he entered swiftly returned to the newly shined counter.

  I couldn't look directly at him; I knew exactly why he was so upset. This hadn't been just a stupid bar brawl with two drunken idiots.

  This was different, it involved one of his own. His fighters weren't allowed to use their fists outside the ring.

  “No Big deal! No big deal, Cadence! How about Nico, huh? His face was broken. What am I going to do now? He's my top guy, I need him, and you know that!” His hands vigorously rubbed back and forth against his temples, wrinkles across his forehead created a stairway back to the thin hair line resting in the middle of his skull.

  Under his breath he whispered to himself, “You couldn't just do your job. You had to go start shit with him, had to.” The thick muscle of his neck rotated side to side with his head.

  I couldn't speak, no words formed against my tongue. I wanted to yell, “I don't care that he's your head fucking crony! I could give two shits about that dirt bag!” Instead, the scream sat in the back of my eyes, burning against my pupils.

  My father was a tough man. Even with me, his daughter, his own flesh and blood, I was spared nothing. A quick lash of his tongue or strike of his fist, that was how he ran things.

  I wish Quinn was still here. It was easy for my inner thoughts to reach for him, call for him from the depths of my body.

  The way he took control, standing in front of me as my savior. Every nerve stood on end, a prickling wave of goosebumps flooded my skin.

  My lip pulled up to reveal the hint of a smile. Instantly, fire filled my fathers glare. His eyes gaped open, the charcoal centers reflecting my image. “You better wipe that fucking smile off your face,” he said, as a deep lunge of his foot brought him directly in front of me. “How did Nico end up this way? You know one man couldn't have done that. What happened?” His teeth grinded together as he spoke.

  “It was a guy named Quinn. Nico got in my face, like he always does.” I couldn't stop my voice from lashing out; the normal obedience and respect I was trained to have, was shadowed by my hatred for that man. “You know how he treats me!”

  My father's fist slammed down on the counter. “Don't lie to me, Cadence!”

  My body jolted back from his fervor. Trembling inside, I struggled to speak. “I-I'm not. Really, it was just Quinn.” Taking a step back, my spine brushed the register; my hand caught the edge, tipping the cash drawer.

  His hands came up quick, drawing long strokes down his chest, pulling on the collar of his black button-up shirt to straighten it. “You say that one man, a single man, did that much damage to my best fighter?” A new life emerged from the cold eyes set upon his face. “Then I have to have him. He needs to work for me.” From within his grizzly face, a smile burned. “And you, you my dear, are going to bring him to me.”

  “Wait... What? How do you expect me to do that?” My mouth hung open, brows furrowing deep into my nose.

  I couldn't understand what he was trying to ask. Where would I find him? I didn't know his last name, where he worked, nothing.

  He was a stranger to me.

  But, I would love to thank him for what he did. He deserved that.

  “He was dragged out of here by the cops, wasn't he?” my father said, the empty hollows of his eyes widening. My head shook a soundless 'yes.' “Then you know where to find him.” His lips transformed into a devious arch as he leaned in over the bar.

  I tried desperately to push myself further from him, wishing I could melt into the wall of liquor behind me.

  Shifting my face to the side I asked, “Why me? You know where he is, go get him yourself.” The blood drained from my fingers the tighter I gripped the trim of wood against my back, numbness setting in.

  A deep, ominous chuckle purged through his lips. “Cadence, sweetheart, you see...” His arm reached for a bottle of vodka. Pouring it into a glass, he brought it to his lips. “He knows your face, he doesn't know mine. So you will go and you will bring him to me.” The drink went down, chasing his last word.

  The sound his lips made smacking together as he indulged himself with the harsh liquid made me sick to my stomach.

  No, I won't do this. I can't do this. It felt wrong; I knew my father and what he stood for. Quinn had helped me, I couldn't throw him into the belly of the beast.

  Yes, he had fought Nico; ruined him even, but this had the feeling of leading someone to their grave.

  There were no guarantees, no assurance he would even agree to do what was about to be laid out for him.

  But my father— would force him; and I won't have that.

  “No, I can't do that. I'm sorry, I don't want to be a part of this one,” I finally said. The proponent tone of my failure to obey his request pushed fury into his body.

  The evil smile he held faded, and his face turned to sto
ne. “You will do this for me. You're the reason I'm in this shit to begin with. You don't have a choice.” His massive hand fell down, slapping the bar with demand.

  I knew he was right; I had no option.

  He was family, he was my father. The need to keep my allegiance to him weighed higher than any crush I may have felt for my knight in shining armor.

  Quinn had helped me, but my dad held the strings that bound me here, that kept me alive. I have to do as he asks. If I don't... Who knows what will happen to me.

  There were expectations set on him that he needed to stand by. Without his top fighter, my father could lose his high bidders. That would mean a loss of money for him; and even worse for me.

  “Alright,” I said, exhaling a large heap of air. “ What am I supposed to do then? Walk into the station and ask nicely if I can see him?” A softness fell over my voice, while my heart scathed over what I was about to bring Quinn into.

  “Good girl.” His smile reappeared, sending chills down my back. “You're going to go wait outside for them to release him. Tell him I want to thank him for protecting my daughter.” He brought his leathery hand to my shoulder, slowly he spoke. “Don't come back without him.”

  His hands fell into the depths of his pockets, spinning on one heel he turned and vanished through the back door behind the bar.

  I heard the crackle of the speakers above, tumbling out was the sound of old classical music.

  Mozart... he's in thinking mode. My father listened to certain music based on his mood or the happenings of the day. Beethoven was for times he made a lot of money, Bach was on days he was pissed.

  This choice had been to figure out his plan.

  Glancing at the clock, I realized it was three in the morning. I better go, who knows how long they'll hold Quinn for. Hopefully they didn't let him go already.

  Reaching under the bar, I grabbed the small orange purse and headed for the door. Pulling my keys out to lock it, I stepped into the still bustling street.

  The sidewalk was full of people, the road was stacked with yellow taxis and buses, a multitude of sounds rained down from every direction.