Hearts of Winter (Bleeding Angels MC Book 2) by Olivia Stephens Read Free Book Online Page B

handle it,” I tell him, sounding more certain than I feel. 
     
    “Be careful,” George says, his voice loaded with meaning.  “This is the first time they’ve been back since…” He doesn’t have to finish the sentence. We both know what he’s talking about.
     
    I nod quickly, re-adjust my uniform if only to kill some time, and head back out onto the floor.  I scan the diner quickly and see that a couple of the tables are scrambling for their wallets.  They steal not particularly subtle glances at the two leather-clad men and hurry towards the door.  The bell chimes repeatedly as all but a couple of the diners exit the building as fast as they can without drawing attention to themselves.  I can’t help but feel a little disappointed, although not surprised, when I see that Nolan is one of them.
     
    I take a deep breath and bite the bullet.  “What can I get you?” I ask, pulling the pad and pen out of my apron, focusing on the notepad rather than looking at the men in front of me.
     
    “Why don’t you bring out some of that whisky your colored friend keeps in the back?” Blondie asks.  I can feel his eyes on me without even looking at him.
     
    “You know we don’t serve alcohol here,” I remind them, still concentrating on the pad of paper in front of me.
     
    “Oh, they don’t serve alcohol here ,” the Blonde one says in a high-pitched tone, mocking me.
     
    “You’re on borrowed time, little girl,” the other man warns me, and he slams his palm down hard on the table, making me jump.  “Get us a drink and keep that smart mouth of yours shut before someone shuts it for you.” His voice is threatening and rough.
     
    The blonde guy laughs in response, obviously thinking this is the best fun they’ve had in ages.  I can feel my anger starting to rise, but I swallow it down almost immediately.  I can’t afford to make these men angry.  I know that as well as they do, which gives them power over me. And that’s something that I can barely stand.
     
    I obey orders, not saying anything, and head back into the kitchen.  I don’t have to tell George about it—he’s heard everything and next to the swing door is a tray with two glasses and a fresh, unopened bottle of whisky. I wordlessly pick up the tray and head back out to the diner.
     
    Approaching their booth, I slow down and listen to their conversation.  They’re so drunk they’re talking much louder than they probably should be. Not that anyone would ever challenge them.
     
    “Little bitch needs to be taught a lesson,” Baldy notes, shaking his head in disgust and twirling his knife on the table.  I swallow hard, remembering that same knife going through George’s hand like it was butter.
     
    “Forget about her, she’ll get what’s coming to her soon enough. The boss’ll see to that,” the Blonde one notes.  “What time is it?” he asks.
     
    “2.30,” Baldy replies and I have to bite down my immediate sarcastic response that I’m surprised he knows how to read the time.  Of course, it’s a digital watch.  “30 minutes until the truck comes through. Just keep your eyes peeled in case it’s early.” He nods in the direction of the highway that’s visible from their seats.
     
    It was one of the reasons that Sunny Side Up had survived when so many other businesses in Painted Rock were going under one after the other, falling like dominoes.  Being so close to the highway, we still got business from truckers who were willing to try their luck with the Angels or clueless road-trippers who hadn’t even heard of the bikers. 
     
    The possibilities run through my head as I reach the table.  They stop talking and their silence feels even more oppressive than their drunken threats.  I place the glasses and bottle in front of them, keeping my mouth shut the whole time, just like they’d ordered.
     
    “See it’s not so hard, is it, sweet thing?” Blondie asks as I’m about to go.  “You’re so