Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
She swung her gaze back to me, and I could see the question in her expression.
“Salem,” I told her.
“Get Salem a lemon drop martini and make sure she is taken care of for me tonight.” She turned back to me. “The fried pickles are popular, and we normally sell out, so I’ll send you some over before things get busy.”
Um, okay…well, it sounded like I was staying at least for a lemon drop martini and fried pickles. It would be rude to leave before. Why not? This was better than sitting in a hotel room.
“Thank you. I appreciate it,” I told her.
She flashed me a crooked grin that made a dimple pop out in her cheek. “Salem. That’s a cool name. I’ll be back around to check on you. Tonight will be a full house for a Thursday. I need to make sure things are stocked at the bar and find out where one of my hostesses is; she can’t seem to get here on time.”
“Thanks, and don’t worry about me.” Because I wasn’t staying late.
A man came walking in, rolling a hand trolley with stacked up boxes, and she turned to see him.
“Greg! Those go in the back!” she called out, sounding annoyed, and headed in his direction.
Sighing, I sank back in the booth and watched her point at a door across the bar as she talked to the younger guy.
A lemon drop martini was one of my favorite cocktails. Odd how she’d chosen that for me. It wouldn’t hurt to have one or two, then maybe listen to a couple of songs by the band before I stepped out. The hotel was less than half a mile away.
Look at me—I’m out on a Thursday night. I know you’re proud.
The third lemon drop martini was even better than the first two had been. I popped a fried pickle into my mouth while watching the band set up onstage. They didn’t start for another fifteen minutes. I considered ordering a cheeseburger to go, but decided I didn’t need it. The pickles were filling me up.
A vibration on the floor began, and I glanced around to see if anyone else had felt that. No one else seemed to be concerned as it grew in strength. A low rumble joined it. What in the world? The noise got louder, and the pictures on the wall near the entrance were shaking. Again, I checked, but not one person in here seemed to notice or care.
“Pepper wanted me to bring you this.” The brunette waitress she’d called April slid a plate with several different appetizers on it toward me.
“Thank you,” I replied, having to talk louder due to the rumble outside. “Um, what is that?” I asked before she could walk away.
She frowned for a moment, not sure what I’d meant, before her eyes lit up. “Oh, the noise. That’s The Judgment. When they all come together, it’s like that,” she replied, then spun around and hurried toward the door.
The Judgment? As in the Lord? What was she talking about?
I dropped my gaze to my glass. Maybe I’d had too many martinis because I was completely confused.
The double doors of the entrance swung open at the same time, and my eyes shot back up as the sound died almost altogether. A large, tattooed man, wearing a black leather vest with his hair in a ponytail and his arm draped over a redheaded woman at his side, came striding inside. Other leather-vest-wearing men with colorful artwork on their bodies followed. A few had women with them. They went to a section to my left but still in my line of vision. I didn’t want to be caught staring at them though so I stopped my inspection.
“Pep! Bring on the pickles, beautiful!” one of the men called out.
Pepper came walking in from the back. “Sit your ass down and be patient!” she shouted at him, then nodded her head at a blonde server to go get something.
I wondered if she was going to call security when she walked right into the thick of them and slapped one on the back and hugged another–who I could admit was gorgeous. As in he could be a model, even with the tattoos. The petite brunette he had tucked at his side smiled sweetly at Pepper, and she said something to her that made her throw her head back and laugh.
When one of them turned around, I could see the back of his vest. It read Judgment above half of a skull that wore a crown with angel wings and lightning bolts surrounding it. I realized now that the noise and vibration had been motorcycles. A lot of them.
This was not a place I’d have thought would be a biker bar, but I was ninety-nine percent sure that those people were bikers. And Pepper was very familiar with them. This wasn’t a random visit. They were regulars.