The Originals (Ghosttown Riders #10)

Chapter Thirteen

Grain and Regina

(2 years later)

“Hey! What do I gotta do to get some service around here?”

Regina Hinkley’s hand stilled on the bottle of bourbon.

A good start would be some fucking manners.

She was in the process of restocking the bar at Starr’s. Her least favorite job, which soured her mood when it hadn’t been done by the new barback. What was the point of her boss, Ernie, hiring more help when they didn’t do their job?

“Did she hear us?”

Yeah, I fucking heard you, cock-for-brains.

Regina rolled her eyes and mentally calculated how many bottles of whiskey to grab from the storage room. She’d also have to change the keg. The lunch crowd had come and gone, and she was prepping for the next wave of customers. Happy hour was a big shebang in the dive bar. They had a steady flow of locals, who came in for half priced beers. Then came the Friday night crowd.

“Hey! Sweets!”

Oh, you motherfucker.

This man was obviously not a local. Had he been, he’d know better than to speak to her in that manner. Did men really think catcalling at someone’s job was an acceptable way to get their attention? Regina drew in a deep breath and glanced up at the mirror. She zoned in on the man and his friend. There were a few others seated at the bar, however these two were the only ones with smug smiles on their faces. Just by looking at them, she knew they thought a lot of themselves.

She slowly glanced over her shoulder.

“Who are you talking to?” Regina arched her brow.

“Your fine ass.” He had the nerve to smirk and share a look with his buddy. At least his friend had the decency to look away and keep his mouth shut. It would serve him well against Regina. The other man? Not so much.

Men like this were a dime a dozen. Smart mouth and bravado, without an ounce of courage to back it up. The type of guys who were rarely put in their place and never by a woman. Until now, asshole.

Regina smiled, sauntering over to the end of the bar where the two men were seated. From their attire, she could tell they weren’t local to this side of town. The suits were a dead giveaway. Lawry was a booming small city, bringing in a lot more companies, and what she referred to as tight-wad suits. Most of them stuck to their section in the corporate end of the city. But every once in a while, a big shot would make the mistake of stumbling into Starr’s.

She glanced down at Louis, a regular in his late sixties. He winked as she passed by. He’d been coming in long enough to know how this would play out. Regina stopped at the tap, grabbed a glass and got Louis a refill, placing it down in front of him. He should have an ice-cold beer for the show she was about to put on.

Regina stopped at the end of the bar, cocked her head, and offered her most sultry smile. She leaned down, resting her elbows on the top of the bar. The move would pull down her shirt a bit, showing off her cleavage. When both men glanced down at her breasts, she shook her head. This is gonna be easier than I thought.

“Can I help you?”

He smiled and subtly elbowed his friend. “Need some drinks.”

“Is that right?” Regina paused briefly, glancing between both men. “And you thought the best way of going about that was to shout across the bar to get my attention?”

He held up his hand. “Didn’t know if you knew we were waiting for some service.”

Regina laughed, looking back at Louis who was glued to the scene. She turned back to the men and straightened. “How could we all not know? The whole bar knew the second you walked in. Cheap cologne has a specific scent.”

His jaw tightened. “Just get us two long island iced teas.”

So predictable. Though it was disappointing. For all his showmanship of being a tough guy, ordering a long island iced tea canceled all that out. Why not order a Daquiri? At this point, it didn’t matter what he ordered. He wasn’t getting anything. But she wasn’t above having a little fun before kicking them out of her bar. Technically, she wasn’t the owner, but she’d claimed it when she’d started working there.

“I’m Regina. What’s your name?”

He eyed her suspiciously and shared a look with his friend. Her lips curved in a smile knowing, for as annoyed as he was, he would answer. And he did.

“Rick.” He jerked his head to his left. “And Gil.”

“Alright, well, tell you what, Rick.” She paused. “I’ll get you those two drinks after ” —she cocked her brow— “you get your pussy ass up, walk out that door, and come back in with a better fucking attitude, and manners like I’m sure your sweet mama taught you.”

Gil’s mouth fell open, and his gaze shifted to his friend. He was silently confirming her suspicions that Rick wasn’t accustomed to back talk.

“Get me my fucking…”

Regina reached across the bar, grabbed his tie, and yanked it hard enough for Rick to jolt forward, face first into the bar. She wound the silk around her fist, giving no leeway even against his struggle. Gil had the smarts to not interfere. He jumped from his stool and backed up a few feet.

“I’m not getting you anything.” She tightened her fist. “You’re a sorry excuse for a real man.”

“Gee!” Ernie’s warning was followed by his footsteps pounding from behind her. Regina didn’t heed the warning or let up on her hold.

“You crazy ass bitch!” Rick shouted.

Regina laughed. “Yes, I am.”

Ernie wrapped his arms around her, forcing Regina to release the man, and lifted her up. She was mildly aware of Rick’s ranting as Ernie marched her to the other end of the bar.

“I could sue you!”

“Shit,” Ernie muttered.

Regina smiled when the bar erupted in laughter. This man was in the wrong place if he thought his idle threats would hold any merit at Starr’s. Ernie may have been concerned, but no one else was, especially Regina. She turned back around trying to get past Ernie, but he was like a wall. Regina settled for shouting across the bar.

“Yeah, but then you’d have to stand in court and make it publicly known you had your ass handed to you by a woman.” That piece of information would never be repeated, Regina was sure of it.

His lips twisted as he yanked on the edge of his jacket then drove his hand through his greased-styled hair. He may have no rebuttal, but her message was loud and clear. Unfortunately for him, Regina wasn’t done.

“Isn’t it bad enough that the whole bar will be mocking and laughing at you for the next few months?”

Ernie forcibly turned her around toward the back hallway. “Cut the shit, Gee.”

Regina smirked and glanced over her shoulder, zoning in on the men. Gil grabbed Rick’s arm, leading him toward the door. His heated glare only amused her more, and she gave a theatrical wave as they left the bar. The chatter continued with a few patrons cheering and raising their glasses. Regina was never one for fanfare, but she appreciated the support.

These are my people.

Ernie pointed over her shoulder. “In my office. Now!”

Regina headed down the hall. This wasn’t the first time she’d had to sit through a scolding in regards to her attitude or sharp tongue. Though it had been a while. Much like the customers who were her kind of people, so was Ernie. When she walked into the office, and he slammed the door, she turned around and folded her arms. His scowl deepened, and for a second she thought she’d get reprimanded. Then Ernie’s lips curled into a smile, and he shook his head.

“I don’t know who’s worse. You or Grain.”

That was up for debate. Regina and her old man were evenly matched, but had Grain been in the bar when that all went down? That man wouldn’t have walked out. At least not with all his teeth. If anything, she’d gone easy on Rick. Though, she suspected he might think twice about how he spoke to waitstaff, especially women, in the future.

“What’s my punishment?” Her lips twitched, and Ernie rolled his eyes.

“A warning. This time. But for Christ’s sake, Gee, keep your hands off the customers.”

She gave a slow nod and backed out of his office. Since she’d started working at Starr’s almost two years ago, she’d been issued over fifty warnings. She still hadn’t received any type of punishment. She wasn’t sure if Ernie secretly enjoyed her attitude or appreciated that she was the most reliable employee he had on payroll.

Regina walked back to the bar, grabbed a rag, and started wiping down the counter. She glanced up at the clock. Her workday was only half over with the busiest rush expected to start in an hour.

The days were long, but the money was decent. Starr’s had a large turnaround with waitstaff, which made her more valuable to Ernie, and he’d compensated her for it. Being able to rely on Regina meant Ernie could take more time off from the bar. He didn’t do it often, but when he did, he always left her in charge.

One of the locals was standing at the bar near the register.

“Cashing out, Joe?”

“Yeah.” He pulled out his wallet. “If you can believe it, my wife misses seeing my ugly mug. Wanted me home early tonight.”

Regina battened down her smile. It was not part of her uniform. “Well, I don’t believe it.”

Joe chuckled, shaking his head as he handed her a ten-dollar bill. Most people knew what to expect from Regina. She was brash, abrasive, and cocky.

She grabbed the three singles to hand back to him, but Joe put up his hand. “Keep the change, Gee. And thanks for the show.”

Regina tucked the cash in her back pocket, watching Joe walk out. Like most bartenders, she got paid an hourly rate but relied on her tips. Without a shiny disposition that she refused to fake, she didn’t make as much money as the waitresses. Cleavage helped, but that’s where she drew the line.

“Gee.”

Regina looked over as Ernie walked toward her, stopping a few feet away.

“Need you to work tomorrow.”

Regina snorted, which rolled into a snicker. “No.”

“Gee, I know I said…”

She slammed the register drawer closed and sauntered over to Ernie. When she’d started at the bar, she’d been a more compliant employee. Since then, she’d earned her spot as the best, most reliable, though not polite bartender. She knew her worth. And so do you, Ernie.

She rested her elbow on the bar and cocked out her hip. “I’ve worked the last three weekends. I wasn’t scheduled last weekend. But you needed me, so I came in. You might also remember me telling you under no circumstances am I working this weekend.”

He scratched his chin, slyly eyeing her. “Double time.”

You son of a bitch! Where was that offer last week? Regina narrowed her gaze and straightened. There were plenty of people she could intimidate with just one look. Ernie wasn’t one of them. He folded his arms.

“Timmy’s got some…”

Regina refused to let him finish. She held up her hand, silencing Ernie, and pressed her fists into her hips.

“I don’t give a shit what Timmy has going on. When you hired me, we were supposed to pass off every other weekend. Every one of the last seven months, I’ve worked three out of the four. It’s bullshit, Ernie.” She stepped closer. “I’m not working this weekend, so I suggest you call Timmy and tell him to get his ass in here tomorrow. And next time you want me to cover one of his weekends? I’m only doing it for double time.”

“Sometimes I think you forget that I’m your goddamn boss.” Ernie drove his hand over his thinning hair.

For the most part, Ernie was a one man show in a sense. He had employees, but he was usually back up when someone called in sick or quit without notice. Regina was aware that if Timmy didn’t show up, it would be Ernie covering the shift. But that was a management problem, not hers.

“Oh no, Ernie, I remember. I just don’t put up with you handing me shit. I don’t take it from my dad, don’t take it from my man, and I’m certainly not taking it from you.” Regina pushed past him. “I’m going on a smoke break.”

As she made her way down the hall, she heard his faint muttering. “Fuck.”

She pushed open the back door to the parking lot and walked over to the small bench. Ernie had it delivered eight months ago when she complained about having to stand on a break after working a long shift. The small section was now equipped with a bucket filled with sand serving as an ashtray next to a wood and iron bench.

Regina sat, pulled out her cigarette, and lit it. She drew in a deep drag and relaxed into the hard bench. It would probably be the last time she had a chance to sit down for the night. Friday nights were usually busy. Mostly men, ranging from their thirties to sixties. Occasionally, she got a couple or two, but the locals usually scared them off. There would be at least two screaming matches, one physical fight, and someone would, without a doubt, puke in the bathroom. And they’d miss the toilet. After kicking out the stragglers wanting one more drink, she’d clean up, and hopefully close by midnight. A thirteen-hour day.

She took another drag from her cigarette, eyeing her car. She’d gassed up this morning, and her bag was already packed. She could have gone home then gotten up early and left in the morning. As it stood, she wouldn’t be pulling into Ghosttown until close to two in the morning.

Regina spent every other weekend in the small town with her man, Grain. They shared an apartment in Lawry not too far from Starr’s, but it was more of a home base for her than Grain. He spent a lot of weeknights at the MC clubhouse in Ghosttown. It wasn’t the best scenario, but it had worked for them over the last year since they got together. However, with her added weekends at the bar and Grain doing more runs for the club, their time together had been limited. It was taking its toll on Regina.

While she’d never admit to it, she missed him. It had been almost four days since she’d seen him. Too long. This was a side to her she rarely showed anyone. She’d been labeled a bitch most of her life. It was warranted. Regina came from a long line of assholes. Her rough upbringing played a part. And she wouldn’t have changed it. She was tougher than most and didn’t take any shit from anyone.

She glanced down at her watch.

Only a few more hours.

His ass better be up!

****

Grain McCaffrey shot back the last of his whiskey, slamming his empty glass on the bar. It was his universal sign for fill it up. He leaned back on the barstool and stretched his arms over his head. Everything was sore from his neck to his back. Hell, even my fucking ass aches.

A total of thirty-six hours on his bike in the last three days with little to no sleep and barely any downtime was enough to drive any man over the edge. Runs were part of being in the club, and all the brothers had to take their turn, but some were worse than others. This last one was draining. Being tired only made him more irritable. Considering Grain usually started his day pissed off, it meant everyone in his wake had to deal with his wrath.

“Why the fuck am I waiting for a drink?” His voice echoed off the walls.

Not one brother even acknowledged his outburst, but the dark-haired club whore jumped and spun around. She rushed forward. “I’m sorry, Grain.”

Colleen swiped the glass off the bar and rushed over to the wall with the bottles of liquor lined up. Before she could get the whiskey, another club whore grabbed it along with his glass, yanking it out of Colleen’s hand.

The stool next him shifted, and he glanced over. Mick took a drag from his cigarette and squinted from the smoke billowing around his face.

“You consider going to bed? I know we’d all appreciate it.” Mick smirked.

“Shut the fuck up, brother.” Grain rubbed his eyes. There were only two things he wanted at the moment, and he was waiting on both.

“Thought you debriefed Jack earlier?”

Grain tapped his fist on the bar, waiting for his drink. “Had that fucking meeting two hours ago.”

Mick furrowed his brows. “Then why the fuck are you still up?”

Grain clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth. It took a lot for a man like him to ever admit to waiting on a woman. In fact, before a year ago, it had been unheard of. He glanced up at the clock hanging over the bar. If she’d left at midnight like she was supposed to, then she should’ve been at the clubhouse thirty minutes ago. This fucking woman doesn’t listen to a goddamn word I say. It was bad enough she fought him on coming up tomorrow versus tonight. Now she had him worried something happened.

“Can’t I have a fucking drink and unwind?” Grain snapped, sending his brother a seething glare.

Mick snorted, taking a drag from his cigarette. “This is you unwinding? Brother.” Mick chuckled, shaking his head.

Grain ignored the taunting and watched as the girl behind the bar sauntered over with his drink in hand. Fucking finally!

“Hi Grain.” The club whore placed his glass in front of him and rested her arms on the bar. “I made it a double.”

He angled his head to the club whore leaning over the bar with her tits practically pushed up to her chin. She was a quarter of an inch away from a nip slip.

“What else can I get you?”

The innuendo was obvious, and he smirked, for no other reason than appreciating the view and knowing she couldn’t offer him anything better than what he already had. But they still tried. It had become a game of sorts for the seasoned whores. Whenever his woman was away for a few days working, they made it their mission to come for him. Grain didn’t take any of the bullshit bait, and he never understood the motive. Regina was one screw loose from a jail sentence and seemed to thrive on fighting. Maybe they thought banging him would be a win, but he knew his woman. Regina would gut him with his own knife after she did the same to the whore who’d fucked with her man.

The girl cocked her brow, and the corner of her mouth spiked. “Anything else?”

Grain laughed, shaking his head. Fucking whores. When the hell would they learn? He waved his hand, dismissing her.

“Oh hell.” The muted hush had him looking to his left.

Tully lowered his chin, sipped his beer, and muttered. “Gee’s here, and she doesn’t look happy.”

Grain straightened, searching the room. A brother at the bar slipped away, and behind him was his woman, glaring in his direction. It was obvious she hadn’t missed the display with the club whore a few minutes earlier. This was the last thing Grain needed tonight.

She turned without a word, and he slammed his glass on the bar, ignoring the snickers coming from Tully and Mick. Grain stormed through the room, up the stairs, and made his way down the hall. He barely made it into his room before he was dodging a lighter, a pair of shoes, and a hard-covered book. Where the fuck did she get a book?

“Woman!” he snapped, rushing forward until he made it to Regina. He hooked his arm around her waist, pulling her against his chest. It didn’t stop or slow her down. He moved his head just in time to miss her closed fist coming at him from over her shoulder.

“You’re a fucking asshole, piece of shit, pig.” Regina struggled, elbowing him in the ribs. He grunted but kept his hold over her. It was always best to contain her when she got wild. And safer.

“Calm the fuck down!” he shouted.

“I work a thirteen-hour shift then drive here, and this is what you fucking give me? Fuck you, Grain.”

Fights were a daily occurrence for them, but some nights were more brutal than others. This was one of them. Neither of them was in the right state of mind. Tired and aggravated wouldn’t see a winner. And I sure as hell ain’t getting laid. That thought only irritated him more.

“No, fuck you, Gee. I been on the road for fucking days from a shit deal. I can’t come home to have a drink and fucking relax without you bitching?”

It was another few minutes before she settled, and it was safe enough to release her. When he did, she immediately turned, sending him a harsh glare and stalked to the other side of the room.

“I’m leaving.”

“Your ass ain’t going anywhere.”

It wasn’t a retort. It was a fact. This wasn’t the first time she threatened to leave over seeing something she didn’t like. Short fuse was an understatement.

“What’s the fucking problem?” Grain asked, and pointed to the door. “She’s got her tits out practically laying on the fucking bar, and I’m not supposed to look? They’re tits, of course I’m gonna fucking look. Guys like tits.”

Her jaw squared, and her lips twisted into a devious smirk. Fuck, I’m not going to like this.

“In that case—” She grabbed the hem of her shirt and ripped it off. Regina didn’t miss a beat, reached around her back, unclasped her bra, and dropped it to the ground. “I’ve got tits, it’s only fair I get to show mine at the bar.”

What the…

Regina marched to the door and grabbed the handle.

“You open that fucking door, I’m gonna paddle your ass.”

Without any hesitation, she ripped open the door and walked out.

“Motherfucker.”

Grain caught up to her halfway down the hall. She had her shoulders back, tits out, and chin up. She was like a fucking goddess. Grain was seconds from losing his mind when Jack stepped in front of her.

“Sweetheart, as much as I enjoy your spirit, admire your fire, and” —Jack slowly glanced down and smiled— “appreciate your assets, I don’t need a riot in the clubhouse. It’s been a long day.”

Regina folded her arms, which in turn propped up her breasts. Grain clenched his jaw, but Jack had the decency and respect for Grain to not give in to her little ploy.

“You sure?”

Jack chuckled, glancing over at Grain then back to Regina.

“Yeah, darlin’, I’m sure.” Jack lifted his chin, gesturing down the hall and didn’t move until Regina spun around, sending a sharp glare at Grain. She walked into the room and slammed the door.

Jack laughed, shaking his head. “Got your hands full with that one.”

Grain scoffed. “You ever see anything fucking like her before?”

Jack stilled, arched his brow, and stared back at Grain. His president didn’t have to say it, Grain knew. Regina was the female version of himself.