Free Beautiful Oblivion by Jamie McGuire Page A

station. “I still don’t understand why you’re doing this for Coby,” she said, a residual frown still on her face.
    “It’s just easier.”
    “I’m pretty sure it’s called enabling. Why would he straighten up, Cami? He has you to bail him out after a two-minute guilt trip.”
    “He’s a stupid kid, Ray. He’s allowed to screw up,” I said, stepping over Gruber to get to the Blue Curaçao.
    “He’s your younger brother. He shouldn’t be a bigger fuckup than you.”
    “Everything isn’t always the way it’s supposed to be.”
    “Blue Moon!”
    “Blind Pig!”
    “You got Zombie Dust on tap?”
    I shook my head. “Only in October.”
    “What kind of bar is this? That’s one of the top ten beers ever made! You should have it year-round!”
    I rolled my eyes. Thursday night was coin beer night, and always packed. The dance floor was shoulder to shoulder, and the bar was three rows deep of drink calling and doubled as a prime spot for what Hank affectionately called the Meat Market, and it wasn’t even eleven o’clock, when the rush would start.
    “West corner!” Hank called.
    “Got it!” Kody said, pushing through the crowd to get to a writhing mob.
    The patrons were always more violent for two or three days after a fight. They’d watch Travis Maddox maul some guy without mercy, and then everyone at that fight walked away thinking they were equally invincible.
    Raegan smiled, pausing for a few seconds to watch Kody work. “Damn, he’s hot.”
    “Work, bitch,” I said, shaking the hell out of a New Orleans Fizz until my arms burned.
    Raegan groaned, lined up five shot glasses, pulled the stack of napkins to the lower shelf, and then tipped a bottle of Chartreuse upside down. She overpoured the shot glasses, and then ran a thin line across a clean section of the bar. She flipped a lighter, and fire erupted.
    The group closest to the bar leaned back, away from the flames crawling across the wooden plank in front of them, and then cheered.
    “Back the fuck up!” Raegan yelled as the fire burned itself out after thirty seconds.
    “Nice!” Trenton said, standing in front of me with his arms crossed.
    “Stay away from the west corner,” I said, nodding to the red sea of swinging idiots parted by Kody and Gruber.
    Trenton turned, and then shook his head. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
    “Then get the hell away from my bar,” I said with a smirk.
    “Feisty,” Trenton said, shrugging a few times.
    “Bud Light!”
    “Margarita, please!”
    “Hey, sexy,” a familiar voice said.
    “Hey, Baker,” I said with a smile. He’d been slipping twenties into my tip jar for over a year.
    Trenton frowned. “You’re missing your shirt,” he said.
    I looked down at my leather vest. Yes, my tits were out to play, but I worked at a bar, not a day care. “Are you saying you don’t approve of my attire?” Trenton began to speak, but I put my finger against his lips. “Aw, that’s cute. You thought I was really asking.”
    Trenton kissed my finger, and I pulled back my hand.
    Raegan slid a shot to Trenton, and winked at him. He winked back, lifted his glass to her, and then walked across the dance floor to the pool tables, not ten feet from the fight Kody and Gruber were still struggling with. Trenton watched for a few more seconds, shot the complimentary whiskey from Raegan, and then walked to the middle of the mob. Like a drop of oil in a bowl of water, the squabbling group backed away.
    Trenton said a few words, and Kody and Gruber escorted two of the guys toward the exit.
    “I should offer him a job,” Hank said, watching the scene from behind me.
    “He wouldn’t take it,” I said, mixing another drink. Unlike his little brother, I could tell that Trenton would rather not fight. He just wasn’t afraid to, and like the other Maddox boys, it was ingrained in him as a default option for solving a problem.
    Every few minutes for almost an hour, I found myself scanning the room for that