She waved it off. “No worries. We all do it. I don’t normally advise this, but have a couple of shots. You won’t be drunk, but it’ll help tune out whatever you need tuned out.”

“Yeah.” I poured two shots of whiskey and downed them, and it wasn’t long before Luke’s voice couldn’t infiltrate my wall anymore. After that, I got lost in filling orders.

Two hours later, Kelly nudged my arm. “We’re doing last call now. I think we should be good.”

The place hadn’t emptied. It had just gotten more packed. “You sure?”

“Yep, I’ll take over here. Crystal came in. She’s the shot girl. That helped us.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Hey.”

I had started to walk back around, but paused and looked back at her.

She gestured to the garbage cans, which were overflowing, forming piles around the bins. “I know it’s a shit job, but do you mind taking those out? You’ll get a portion of the tips, too.”

“I thought my payment was free beer?”

She laughed. Braden hopped onto a stool at that moment, and her eyes darkened. She said to me, while eyeing him, “That payment’s not good enough for how much you helped tonight. Doing the garbage seals the deal. Anytime you want a job here, you got one.” Then she focused on Braden. “You guys sounded good up there tonight.”

He winked at her, leaning forward with his elbows on the bar. “Something extra was up Luke’s ass tonight. He sang his heart out.”

They both glanced at the crowd still standing in front of the stage. Luke was talking to a guy as a group of girls swarmed in behind him. Drunken, glazed eyes stared at him in hunger. Most of the girls had their hair matted with sweat, but they tried to look sexy, standing in their best seductive pose, waiting for Luke’s attention.

“No kidding,” I murmured to myself and went to the garbage bins. While pulling them out, I was rougher than was needed. When I hefted one bag out of a bin and set it down to reach for the second bin, Emerson shot past me.

“Hey!”

He glanced over his shoulder, an apology on his lips, but seeing me, they formed into a scowl. He turned back around and shoved out the door.

“Ass.” I rolled my eyes and finished pulling the bag out of the second bin. “Anything else before I take these out?” I asked Kelly who was laughing with one hip resting against the bar. My brother’s gaze was firmly on her breasts.

She was still laughing as she shook her head. “Nope, that’s it. Thanks again. Your tip will be waiting for you. We tally them all up and split evenly.”

I nodded, tightened my hold around both bags, and started pulling them down the short hallway and through the back door. Dragging both toward the dumpsters, I heard someone yell out from behind me.

Turning around, I saw three guys in a scuffle at the corner of the parking lot. I started for them, abandoning the garbage bags. As I got closer, I saw that it was two guys holding a third guy against the wall. They were tucked in the back corner of the parking lot where, of course, the garbage dumpsters were located.

“Best damn luck in the world,” I muttered to myself. Now what? I had no intention of going anywhere near that fight.

“Where’s the money?” One guy reared back and delivered a punch to the guy’s stomach, causing him to double over and clutch himself.

I’d need to get security to clear that up. As I left the bags where they were and started back inside, I heard a snarl back, “I told you. I’ll have it after tonight.” Oh hell. I stopped and turned around. That was Emerson, the great and unconditionally loving cousin of mine. Still. Security. That wasn’t technically me helping him, just doing my duty as a Good Samaritan. They could clear the fight, but then I heard the scrape of a bat being dragged over the ground.

Security might not get here quick enough. They were on the other side of the bar. I’d have to fight the crowd just to get to them.

“I told you—” Emerson was saying again when the first swing came, connecting with his stomach. He bit off his sentence and folded over.

I couldn’t believe I was doing this. We were going to get killed.

I surged forward, moving faster. “Hey!” I yelled, now running for them. They stopped their assault on my cousin and assessed me. I guess they figured I wasn’t too much of a threat, because the second guy wrapped his arms tighter around Emerson, bracing him for another hit.

I could already hear Braden’s voice in my head, to get my ass away from this, but my feet weren’t moving back to the bar. Apparently, I felt some sort of loyalty to my cousin. Huh. Who knew? Weaving around the last car, I stopped just out of their reach and yelled again, “Let him go!”

Emerson’s eyes were wide. I wasn’t sure who was more surprised, he or I. Either way, I was there. I rolled my shoulders back, and my chin rose. I knew how to fight. Although those times had been taking on girls or when I was in a scrap with Braden and Luke when we were younger against whomever we had a problem with back then.

I’d never fought a grown man before. I was so screwed.

“Or what?” The first guy, the leader I assumed, stepped toward me. He rubbed his hand at the side of his mouth. When he moved into the streetlight, I saw there was blood on his knuckles. He was tall with bland features. His thick eyebrows sat over eyes that were set deep in his face. His small mouth, which was too close to his very large nose, gave his face a permanently pinched look to it. “What are you going to do?”

The guy holding Emerson pushed him to the ground and started toward me. It happened so fast. Emerson hopped back to his feet, looked at me for a split second, then rushed around both men and grabbed my wrist. He tried to pull me behind him to the bar. I went with him, but my other arm was restrained. I jerked backwards, out of Emerson’s hold.

He stopped and braked between a row of cars as he looked at our new predicament. They had me, and he was the free one now. The indecision was clear. Then he started shaking his head and cursing.

Was he…no way…and yes, he did. I watched, my jaw falling to the ground, as my cousin sprinted for the door.

Asshole!

I didn’t have time to plot my cousin’s murder. Bringing my arm up and around, I forced the guy to break his hold. He had to let go, or his wrist would’ve broken from the angle I forced his hand to move. As soon as I was free, I scurried away, treading backwards. Both guys tilted their heads to the side as they watched my every move, and they both wore the same menacing expression. The leader, whom I nicknamed as Thing One, was tall and thin while the other, I called him Thing Two in my head, was shorter and stout. He was built similar to Emerson.