“I have to go behind the bar into the office to get my keycard,” she said slowly. “Will you let me do that?”
“Take me with you.”
“It’s not allowed.”
“Make an exception,” he said smoothly. “Don’t make me do something you’ll regret.”
“Don’t you dare blame me for this,” she muttered in disgust.
“If you want your friends to live, be good,” he replied in a low voice.
She quieted at that, visions of Manya’s broad, friendly face covered in blood flitting through her head.
Bastard.
“I’ll be quiet,” she muttered grimly. Manya saw them and raised one eyebrow in question. She wasn’t quite sure, but something about his gaze seemed different. Unusual. Did he suspect something?
“Manya, I need my keycard for the apartment,” she said slowly, looking him directly in the eye. “I forgot it here earlier. Can you help me out?”
Manya smiled and nodded.
“Sure thing,” he said. “It’s in the office? You wait right here and I’ll get it for you.”
He turned and walked down the bar into the back room. She stood nervously, trying to figure out what to do next. There was no keycard in the office. She’d had a retinal scan lock put in just last week. Would Manya remember?
Manya came back out, a triumphant smile on his face. He held up a keycard.
“I’ve got it right here, Giselle,” he said. “Looks like it fell out of your bag when you pulled it out of my desk drawer.”
She reached out for the card, wondering what to do next. Just shy of the bar, Manya slipped in a puddle of beer, falling on his back with a startled cry. Black Leather held her back as she started forward to help the man. There was a loud, cracking noise, and then Black Leather sagged against her body, pushing her to the floor. She fell with a thump. Manya jumped over the bar to kneel beside her, lifting the heavy man’s body to one side. She looked up to see Brant holding a metal club smeared with blood.
“That one ain’t gonna be botherin’ you no more, Giselle,” Brant said with a smile. “I don’t like it when people sneak blasters past my security. Makes me look bad.”
Chapter Two
Jerred could hear the people around him before he could see them. There was a burning, roiling feeling in his stomach. Was he sick? His head hurt… Shot?
“He’s waking up,” a deep voice said. He opened his eyes and saw the big bartender standing over him, both arms folded across his chest.
“I don’t know how you did it,” the man said, face filled with anger. “But you brought a blaster into my bar. Nobody messes with Manya. You’re lucky I didn’t kill you.”
“Back off, Manya,” another voice chimed in. Jerred rolled his head to one side, focusing on a man dressed in a station security uniform. By the Goddess, he thought in disgust. He’d thrown everything over for that damn witch. The last thing he needed was Imperials breathing down his neck. What had come over him?
If he had blown his cover over her, Nicolai would kill him.
Hell, if he’d blown his cover over her, he’d kill himself and save Nicolai the time.
“Sir, you’re been hit on the head,” the guard said, his voice carefully neutral. “It is illegal to carry weapons such as your blaster into an establishment that sells alcohol. Further, it is illegal to disrupt or disable weapons detectors on station.”
No mention of the girl, he realized slowly. Why hadn’t she come forward and accused him of something? Did she want to avoid the uniforms as much as he did? Or was she just too smart to get caught in the middle of something like this? Probably the latter, he thought in disgust.
“What is the penalty?” he asked, his voice sounding shaky and foreign to him. In the background he could hear people whispering to each other. Hell, now he was providing entertainment for the entire bar.
So much for keeping a low profile. Fuck.
“That’s for the magistrate to decide,” the guard said piously. “Of course, it may depend in part on whether you’re prepared to pay damages for the trouble you’ve caused.”
Money, he thought, feeling hopeful for the first time. If they were interested in money, he might be able to buy his way out of this one. Manya snorted in disgust.
“I think I could arrange that,” Jerred said slowly. The guard’s gaze sharpened.
“We’ll take care of it after we’ve taken you into custody,” he replied, the tone of his voice warming.
Jerred smiled, and then closed his eyes. They wanted money to make this go away. That was something he could arrange.
* * * * *
Giselle watched as they hauled Black Leather out on a floater. She stayed in the background as the station guards took names and contact information from the various bar patrons. There were a few who looked uncomfortable, but for the most part the situation was routine. A few of their more concerned patrons had slipped discretely into the storeroom for the duration. Free drinks would be served and damages would be paid. In a week, nobody would remember what had happened.
“How you doing?” Manya asked gruffly, coming to sit beside her. “I’m sorry I left you hanging out there for a moment, but I didn’t want him to know we were on to him. You looked kinda scared.”
“He was waiting for me outside the bar,” Giselle said softly. “He wouldn’t leave me alone. I’m sorry I brought trouble back to the bar, but it was the only thing I could think to do.”
“It’s all right,” he replied. “I didn’t like the way he was touching you, anyway. Like he owned you or something. I run a good, clean bar, and I don’t like anyone treating my girls like they’re hookers. We can afford to lose an occasional customer, but losing a good waitress? Now that’s a loss!”
Giselle smiled weakly, and leaned her head against Manya’s broad shoulder. For all his rough exterior, he was a good man.
“You stick around ’til closing,” Manya said slowly. “You can wait in my office, and I’ll make sure you get home all right.”
“No, that’s all right,” she said. “Just ’cause one guy scared me doesn’t mean I can’t take care of myself, you know?”
“You sure?”
“Yep, I’m sure.”
“Well, I’m not your father,” he said after a moment. “Not my place to tell you what to do. Sit and relax, though, and I’ll get you a drink.”