Hunted by Angels & Demons

Chapter 2

Saturdays are always the busiest, it was imperative that I looked my best for optimal tips.

The sad reality was that being a waitress meant working for practically nothing and if you wanted to make any money you'd have to work hard for those tips. I used to work at a higher end establishment full of rich snobs who would throw money at you, but too many of the older women complained I was too 'slutty' and 'distracting' to their husbands. Thankfully, that comes in handy when you're demoted to a dive bar.

Men apparently love the 'haven't slept in ten years' look, so I play off it. The other girls opt for a more feminine approach with peroxide blonde hair and little skirts. That isn't me, my standard uniform is a cropped black vest with a band logo on it and ripped gray jeans. I remember my first shift when some biker dude thought he was hilarious, asking me what my favorite Metallica song was. His face when I named at least 5 lesser known songs will forever be engraved in my mind. He then tried to grab my ass at the bar ten minutes later and I broke his nose. That was how I knew this job was for me. The thrill made me feel alive, even if it was for a few moments.

Tonight I was keen to get tips, so I pulled out all the stops; black eyeliner and red lipstick. It never failed me. The bar was full to the brim with lonely men who sought after validation from women who sought after their money.

"Wow Emery, is your rent due already?" Caroline, one of the other servers whistled at me as I shrugged off my jacket.

"I'm just in a good mood today." I lied, forcing another smile as I shoved the denim material into my locker and touch up the deep red lipstick. "And I saw a new jacket I want."

"Good luck, girl. It's a busy bar already, you chose a good night for it."

When I step out, she isn't wrong. It's practically flooding with patrons, a few regulars turn their heads and wave at me when I step up to the bar. "Pint over 'ere love." Peter, an older gentleman, calls out impatiently, and the long night begins.

Something was different this evening. I couldn't quite place it but for some reason it felt as though there was someone watching me all night. Maybe it was the extra attention from the red lip but I had never felt so vulnerable.

"Only 50 bucks." I complained to Caroline, despite how busy it was, people were stingy tonight. "I've only got an hour left."

"Guess we need to pull out the big guns then." She says before grabbing at the neckline of my vest and tearing it open. "Much better."

"You b****." I mumble as I try to save some dignity, my cleavage poking through provocatively like hers. Caroline scurries off to take an order whilst I readjust my shirt to save as much modesty as I can. Peter wolf whistles and I shoot his a death glare before going back out onto the floor.

More eyes are on me and I feel more like a hooker than I do a waitress. I was not used to this much attention. I was glad I had a spare hoodie in my locker to change into for when I walked home. I hate to admit it, but it worked, my tips had tripled in just half an hour and I was on the home stretch.

"Excuse me." I smiled softly at the group of younger men, leaning over to collect some glasses.

"Don't mind if you do, love." One of them calls out, the others begin to cheer and before I know it, someone has slapped my ass. I freeze up, dropping the glasses as they smash onto the table, spilling the other drinks as it makes a huge mess. Their hand remains planted on my ass for a second and before I can react I hear screaming.

Caroline has pulled me back and the group of men recoil back as the one who touched me is on the floor, his arm bent in an unnatural way and blood is pouring from his nose. Towering over him is another man, I can't see his face as his back is turned towards me but I can make out the heavy rise and fall of his broad shoulders. He must be at least 6'5 with thick, ebony hair which is cut close at the sides and slightly longer at the top, he's wearing a black shirt that clings to his muscular frame and black jeans, he would disappear into the shadows if he stood in them. When he looks over his shoulder to me it knocks the breath out of my chest. He is criminally handsome, his ice blue eyes meeting mine as he drags his gaze over me.

I've never seen him here before, yet he feels strangely familiar.

"Are you okay?" He asks with a deep, breathless voice. I go to reply but my mouth goes dry so I do the only thing I can do, I run away.