I yanked my phone from my pocket while the bed moved above me. I muted it, making sure the vibrating function was off as well, and set it on my chest. Then I closed my eyes and got comfortable for the show.
Letting calls and text messages come through was a rookie mistake and I wasn’t a damn rookie.
2
I counted my tips and tucked them into my bra as I crossed the empty bar, beyond happy with what I’d made throughout the night.
I’d stayed a little later since it was my turn to clean up for the night, wiping down the bar and tables while the other ladies took care of the floor and the owner ran through the alcohol inventory.
I slipped a pre-rolled joint into my mouth as I pushed the back door open. I yelped, cursed, and jumped at the sight of three men lined against the back wall smoking. I recognized one as a bartender’s brother and assumed the others were his friends.
“Have a good night, Jazz!” he called, using the name I typically used to bartend, a play on the name I used to post my adult content, Jezebel.
“Have a good night.” I gave him a little wave.
“Jazz,” one of his friends repeated. “Let me talk to you.”
“I’m good.” I waved him off and grabbed my lighter from my pocket.
His friends chuckled.
“Damn. It’s like that?”
“Yep.” I grabbed my keys from my purse and kept walking.
“I just want to talk to you.” He walked toward me and grabbed my wrist.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I warned and jerked my arm free. “I’m serious.”
“Oh. Come on. You didn’t have a problem with my hands on you a little while ago.” He smacked me on my ass and I turned around and rocked him in his mouth as hard as I could.
“Bitch—”
His statement was cut off when I popped his ass again. I started wailing on him, straight closed fist punches to his face.
I was a firm believer that if a woman planned to hit a man, she had to be prepared to hit them until they hit the ground. It would only take one good hit to have me at their mercy and I wasn’t going down like that.
He grabbed his nose and I kneed him in the nuts as soon as I had the chance and watched him fold in half. I reached into my purse for my keys and got ready to book it for my car.
The man reached for me but was gripped by the back of his neck and yanked backwards so hard he stumbled.
It took a second for me to realize my savior was one of the bar’s security guards, Stone. The man hissed through his teeth.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Stone asked. “She’s a bartender. That means you paid her for a drink, right?”
“Look, man?—”
Stone cut him off. “It wasn’t a fucking trick question. It’s a yes or no answer. You paid for a drink and got a fucking drink, right?”
“Yeah.” The man spit blood on the ground and I was instantly proud of my handiwork.
“Then why the fuck are you grabbing this woman up?”
“She fucking hit me!” he argued.
“After you hit me on my ass after trying to grab me up!” I snapped. “You’re lucky I didn’t have my gun, you shrimp dicked bitch!”
“Ay. Calm yo’ ass down,” Stone snapped and I shut my mouth immediately. He put the man in a headlock and jerked him in, making that nigga’s feet hang. “The next time you touch her, I’m gon’ knock yo’ lil ass out. You hear me?” he asked, waiting for acknowledgement. The man nodded and his friends rushed over like they were going to help. Stone glared at them and they paused where they were. Stone tightened his grip, the veins in his arm becoming more prominent the harder he held on and the man looked like he was about to pass out when Stone finally let him go and pushed him away.