Free Ten Tiny Breaths by K.A. Tucker Page A

I see that his teeth are stained yellowish brown by years
of tobacco.
    I swallow my revulsion and force a smile.
“What can I get you tonight, sir?”
    “How ’bout a Tom Collins and a private
show?”
    “One Tom Collins coming up. I’m fresh out of
private shows.” I keep my smile, all the while my level of
annoyance climbs, anxious to get rid of this guy. When I slide the
drink across the bar to him, and reach for the twenty dollar bill,
his paw closes over my forearm, his fingers coarse and impolite. He
leans in and I catch a whiff of stale tobacco and booze on his
breath. “How ’bout you take your break now and show me that tight
ass of yours?”
    “I just bartend here, sir,” I force through
gritted teeth, my body shifting into defensive mode. “There are
plenty of girls here who can give you what you want.” And I’m not
exaggerating. Everywhere I look I find ass cheeks and nipples and
worse. I played a lot of sports in high school so I’ve seen my
share of naked bodies in showers after games. Heck, I labeled Jenny
the “Grand Rapids Exhibitionist” because she had no qualms with
stripping down to buck in front of me. This place is different
though. They’re wandering around, peddling their wares. Selling their bodies.
    “I got money! Name your price.”
    “You don’t have enough, trust me,” I growl
back, but I can tell he’s not listening, his other hand
disappearing below the bar, likely to adjust his growing arousal. I
want to gag. I imagine he’ll be rough when he finally corners a
poor, desperate, and obviously blind woman. “I’d let go if I were
you … sir.”
    From my peripherals, I see Nate and Ben’s
looming frames moving in to save me. The idea of that bothers me
for some reason. I don’t need them to protect me.
    I don’t need anyone.
    And I want to hurt this guy.
    I half-lean, half-jump forward to hook my
free hand around the cowboy’s sweaty neck. I yank down hard and
fast. He grunts as his face slams against the bar. I hold it there,
my fingers digging into the base of his spine. My heart is
hammering against my ribs as blood rushes to my ears. This feels
good. I feel alive. “How do ya like this tight ass now?” I
hiss.
    Nate’s hands slam over his shoulders and I
hear his low rumble over the music as he drags the cowboy away,
bleeding from a cut to his bottom lip. “You’ll have to leave now,
sir.” The guy’s also got a bright red mark on his forehead.
Definitely a bruise tomorrow. He doesn’t resist though. I doubt
even the Incredible Hulk would resist Nate.
    Ben hangs back to ask,“You okay?”
    “I’m fine,” I assure him as Storm sidles up
to my side with a worried look. My attention trails after Nate and
I cross glances with Cain sitting at a table off to the side. A
sinking feeling settles over me. He must have watched the entire
scene unfold. It dawns on me that maybe he doesn’t want his
customers’ heads slammed against the bar. Maybe I just got my ass
fired.
    Cain gives me a thumbs-up sign, and I release
a huge sigh of relief.
    “I told you to smile, not get yourself into a
bar fight,” Storm jokes, nudging me in the ribs.
    “He wanted a private show,” I explain, my
adrenaline still pumping blood through my body. “I gave him a
public one instead.”
    Ben leans forward, elbows resting over the
bar, an impressed smirk on his face. “You sure know how to handle
yourself.”
    “I was raised by wolves. Had to fight for my
food.”
    His head tilts back and a throaty laugh
escapes. “Sorry if I was a douche bag earlier. I’m just used to
seeing pretty, fresh girls come in here and leave worn and jaded. I
hate it.”
    “Well then it’s your lucky day. I’m already
jaded.” I give him the once over. “And maybe you shouldn’t work in
a strip club.”
    “Yeah, that’s what they tell me. But the
money’s too good and I’m putting myself through law school.” He
catches my raised brow and his grin widens. “Didn’t expect that,
did