CHAPTER SIX Mad Bell

CHAPTER SIX

Mad Bell

She left me standing there, my mind blank.

I swore I could still feel the pad of her finger on the tip of my nose.

It took me a long minute to snap out of it. It was a good thing there wasn't much going on tonight.

Unable to resist, I shuffled closer to the window and looked out at the bar area, scanning for faces that weren't familiar. I knew the brothers could get unruly sometimes, but no one dared to be rude to the staff. Wrench would have their nuts in a vice if they fucked with any of them, and since his boyfriend ran the bar, it wouldn't go unnoticed just because the Enforcer wasn't here.

It didn't take long to spot the two men that really didn't fuckin' belong here. My blood boiled. Fuckin' cops. It would have been obvious even if one of them wasn't pressing his luck by wearing his damn uniform. No wonder the bar seemed quieter than usual.

What the hell were they doing here? This was a legit business, so they sure as hell weren't going to find shit here. Were they harassing Maisy? I narrowed my eyes at the basket of fries sitting between them. Then I looked back up to study their faces.

One was probably around my age, mid-thirties. The second one was older and could have passed for the other's dad.

Something wasn't sitting right, but I'd be damned if I could figure out what it was. The younger one raised his finger to get Maisy's attention. She went rushing over, a stiffness in her posture that I didn't like. That weird feeling only cemented itself in my chest when she planted her hands on her hips. My skin was tingling like I was on alert, and my fingers itched to reach out and strangle something.

"Don't," Dipshit Dishwasher Prospect had the nerve to say to me.

"Excuse me?" I glared at him, feeling ready to gut him for even thinking he could hold me back with one word.

"She's got it handled," he said as if he could see inside my head. "I mean no disrespect. I just think that starting a fight with cops wouldn't be good for the club."

I continued to glare. He might have been right, but I sure as hell wasn't going to give him the satisfaction that I saw his reasoning.

"Also," he went on, "Maisy probably wouldn't appreciate you stepping in. She seems like the kind of woman who can handle her shit and doesn't want to be saved." He looked down and shrugged. "Just thought I'd try to help out."

I grunted, jaw working. He slipped out of the kitchen before I could unleash my fury on him even if he was fuckin' right.

Damn him.

I might have had my own beef with the Dipshit Prospect, but he was actually a good one.

Blowing out a long breath, I forced myself to look away. Scanning the rest of the space, I saw Prez sitting there at the end of the bar. He had a beer in front of him but I knew he hadn't touched it. With one elbow resting on the bar top and the other arm in his lap, he looked every bit the cool patron. I knew he was there for a reason. He was wearing his cut, making it clear to the lawmen and he rest of the bar that he knew they were there. Prez had a level head. He was watching, waiting. Letting his presence be seen so they knew they shouldn't fuck with us.

He locked eyes with me and nodded once.

What the fuck was that? It was like he felt the need to let me know he had it under control. I would never thought he didn't. I had a lot of trust in LT. He was a good man.

My eyes were drawn back to the cops.

I had to force myself away from the window. If I stood there watching, I'd only get myself worked up more and more. I'd end up going out there. Maisy and I didn't get along. The last thing I needed was for her to be pissed off at me on top of all the other feelings she had about me. It was frustrating enough working with her, I didn't need it to be hell.

Yeah, Dipshit Prospect was right, I'd only make a mess of things if I went storming out there. Besides, Prez was there to look after Maisy. No one needed me rushing in like a knight in shining armor.

I snorted at the thought. Me saving Maisy's ass, that'd be the day. Hell no. I definitely didn't need to give her any kind of ideas about me caring enough to do such a thing.

I kept myself busy by cleaning shit. I was no slouch when it came to daily cleaning. It was an important part of running a kitchen. Since the kitchen was still technically open, I started with the prep stations. An hour went by and finally, it was time for me to shut down everything for the night. Maisy was due to clock out any minute now. Normally, I'd step out and take my non-smoke break or run the trash to the dumpster at this time, and stay out there until she was on her way. However, tonight I had this weird urge to do something to make her night better. She'd been running her ass off all shift and dealing with cops in a place like this was never easy. I imagined she was stressed out and they didn't seem to make it easy on her, complaining about the fries as I imagined they did.

Fucking pricks.

It took a lot to push the anger away.

I was going to make her a special burger. If she hated it… well, it was the thought that counted, right? I tried to pretend it wouldn't hurt me as I slapped the patty on the grill.

What ingredients said Maisy? I smiled as I grabbed a handful of baby portabella mushrooms and tossed them on the grill. While those cooked, I mixed up a garlic, truffle, and Dijon aioli. Fuck, I hated that word. It was fuckin' fancy mayonnaise.

After grabbing a spoon, I took a small taste, then added a sprinkle of paprika and called it perfect.

I put a slice of baby swiss on top of the burger, then topped it with the mushrooms. I made up the bun, adding the fancy mayonnaise to the bottom bun to maximize the flavor. It could be the first thing that hit her tongue on the first bite. I actually smiled, hoping she appreciated the level of craft I was putting into this shit. Maybe she'd eat it in front of me and I'd get to see how much she loved it… or hated it.

The smile slid off of my face at that.

Frustrated at my thoughts, I pressed the top of the bun down a little harder than I meant to. I scowled at the finger indents in the nice pillowy soft bread. I was quick to box it up before I did something else to fuck it up.

"Hey," I said with a jerk as Maisy came flying into the kitchen. She stopped, looking startled at me as if she wasn't the one who had just come out of nowhere and scared me. "What's up?"

Her brow furrowed as she looked at me. Was I acting weird?

"I'm grabbing my shit and heading out," she said. Each word came out with an odd pause between them as if she wasn't sure she was giving the right answer. Like somehow there could be a wrong answer to that question.

"I, uh…" Snatching up the box in a hurry, I almost crushed it. Damn good-for-the-environment containers. Yeah, it was important to save the planet and all that shit, but these things were not sturdy. "Here."

She eyed me for a long moment before turning those skeptical eyes on the box.

"Why?"

Her question stunned me. I figured she'd ask what it was if anything, but she was asking me why I was trying to give her something like it was the strangest thing ever.

"I saw you were having a crappy night. Thought you might like something to eat." I tossed it on the prep station like it wasn't a big deal that she didn't take it right away. "I'm sure someone else will eat it. No worries."

Her mouth opened but no sound came out. I turned my back to her before the pinching feeling in my chest could grow. If she didn't want it, that was on her.

"Thanks," she said softly.

I felt her hand on my back, so hot I would have sworn her touch had burned itself into my skin. She grabbed the container with her free hand. I held my breath until she released her hold on me, and I didn't just mean her touch. Whatever the hell just happened had me twitchy.

"Yeah," I grunted.

"Night," she said softly. Then she was moving away from me. My back grew cold with every step she took, but I couldn't let myself read too much into it.

I guessed I wasn't going to get to see what she thought of it. Eh, probably better that way.

"Night, Daisy," I said, my voice deeper than normal.

A little huffed laugh hit my ears and then she was gone.

Fuck. What the hell was going on with me?

After a moment of standing there like an idiot, I shook myself out of it and began shutting the kitchen down. I'd been so upset I'd forgotten to grab the trash and head outside behind her.

The prospect came walking through the kitchen about the time I realized I hadn't watched Maisy go.

Panic set in and stood there, a damn wild look in my eyes that I couldn't hide.

"Relax," Dipshit Prospect said as he held up a calming hand. "I saw her out."

I grunted even as I gave him a nod. Why did I feel like I'd failed at something major?

"Thanks for the burger, by the way," Dipshit Prospect said. "I know it's not on the menu, but it should be. It was fucking bangin'." He sent me a bright smile but I could only stare at him in confusion.

"What burger?"

The smile slid off of his face the moment he realized the same thing I did.

He ate Maisy's burger. The burger I specifically made special for her .

"Dude, she just gave it to me. I didn't know." He held up his hands in surrender, backing away a few steps as his eyes went wide.

"She gave it to you?" I asked, shoulders sagging. What the hell? What had I done so wrong that she wouldn't eat something I made her? And why was I making such a big deal about it?

"She said you made it for me."

I grunted.

"Whatever," I said as I turned and started cleaning the grill.

Come to think of it, I'd never actually seen her eat. As part of working here, she was allowed to get one meal a shift, but I couldn't recall a time when she'd ever put in an order. Why was that? My mind spun. She'd been working here for a little over half of a year and I knew next to nothing about her. Was I looking to change that?

No. No way. Absurd to even think it.

I'd bet she was scared to eat something I'd cooked, especially if she hadn't seen me cook it. Hell, she probably thought I'd spat in it or something. She didn't know that no matter the circumstances I'd never do such a disgraceful thing. Beat someone to a pulp? Sure, I could do that. Get back at a shitty customer by hocking a loogie in their food? Not in a million years.

After a moment, I paused and turned back around. There was a lot of hesitation I couldn't hide from my tone when I asked, "Was it good?"

A smile slowly crept across the prospect's face.

"It was really good," he said. "I wasn't joking. You really should add it to the menu."

Then he turned to his nightly cleaning tasks.

I might have smiled a little.