Axle Hart’s touch and scent lingered over me when I went to bed that night. I dreamed about him. He came to me, hovering like the dark angel his club chose as its avatar. He’d be good in bed. Strong, commanding, dominant. The kind of man who could make me let go and submit, driving out all the things I tried to control and hold on to every day of my life. He’d be pure sin and recklessness. All the things I’d been taught to avoid.

When my alarm rang the next morning, I woke drenched in sweat and tangled in the sheets. My back arched as my sex seemed to chase after the phantom pleasure the Axle Hart of my dreams wrapped me in. But when I opened my eyes, it was just me, alone in my studio apartment with Gordon, my overweight, lease-violating calico cat, staring at me from the arm of the chair in the corner.

“Don’t judge me,” I said to Gordon. He gave me a wide-eyed stare then started licking his front paw.

My phone alarm chirped again and I grabbed it. I had six missed calls and four texts. Sighing, I swiped the screen. All the calls were from my mother along with two of the texts. The other texts were from my oldest brother, Josh. I didn’t have to imagine what he wanted. No doubt my mother had pestered him to reach out to me when I didn’t answer her calls. I flicked off the ringer, tossed my phone to the seat of the chair near Gordon. He was nonplussed, only freezing mid-lick for about a second. I knew ignoring the calls and texts would only make my mother more hostile when I finally did call her back. But I just couldn’t deal with her today. I had a sociology class at ten followed by Statistics and Film Appreciation, my one blow-off class of the semester. After that, I had another shift at Cups.

Hitting the shower, I did my level best to ignore what I knew waited for me on the other end of that phone. It was my parents’ wedding anniversary in one week. Mom wanted me to be there for it. We’d had a major blow-up when I told her I refused to support it. I’d acted as a mediator in their disputes since I was old enough to remember. At least half the time, those disputes had gotten physical. She had sworn to leave my father more times than I could count. She never did. When my brothers got old enough to put the fear of God into my dad, he’d gone from physical to just straight-up mental cruelty. But I couldn’t take care of them anymore. I’d reached my breaking point. So when the opportunity arose, I threw a dart at a map, applied and got accepted to Texas A & M-Corpus Christi. I did my research and it cost half as much to live just across the bay in Port Azrael. Landing the job at Cups two weeks ago had been a real coup. I made enough there to pay for my living expenses and what my scholarship didn’t cover. Plus, if I cut every corner I could, I had enough to save up for a house of my own someday. For now though, I was saving up to fix my junker car. It was currently a lifeless hunk of steel sitting in the parking lot. Hence, my need for the Number 23 bus.

No matter what, Port Azrael meant peace. A chance to start out on my own away from the codependence and dysfunction of the family I grew up in. No one ever left the Ballard family, but I did. Nine months, four days, and two hours ago. For now, I couldn’t look back and I couldn’t go back, no matter how much my mother begged. By the time I got out of the shower, I had two more missed calls and another text from Josh.

Will you just call Mom already? Tell her whatever you want, but I’m tired of dealing with her.

I pressed the phone to my chest and sat next to Gordon. He’d been a stray who followed me home from my last job at the Port Az convenience store a few months ago. He rubbed his head against my thigh, waiting for an ear scratch. I obliged and answered my brother’s text.

I’m in class all day and I work tonight. I don’t have time for it, Josh. My answer hasn’t changed. It’s your time in the barrel now.

I added a heart emoji and hit send. Until last August, Josh had been the absent one. He’d gone to college in Ann Arbor and married Marci, one of his classmates. She was no-nonsense and straightforward. Marci wouldn’t put up with my parents’ neediness. But Josh had been too stupid to see how good she was for him. She caught him cheating on her a year ago and kicked him out. I figured Mom and Dad’s bullshit could be part of Josh’s penance. Count me out.

I waited a few seconds and got a middle finger emoji from Josh. I powered off my phone again and headed out for class, tucking my Cups uniform in my backpack. I wouldn’t have time to come home and change. I just needed a nice, focused, drama-free day.

I should have known wishing for it would jinx me.

After a full day of classes, I hopped the bus back to Port Azrael and the restaurant. The evening started off fine. Cups was packed as usual and Aimee, the chief hostess, was finally trusting me with more tables. By eight o’clock I already had a hundred bucks in my pocket with a big group getting seated in my section at eight thirty. I was just getting their table set up with menus and silverware when Cory headed for me with a grim look on his face.

“Boss wants to see you,” he said, jerking his chin toward the office door.

“Now? I’m seating forty in about fifteen minutes.”

“Leave it,” Cory said. “Boss says let Char or Lori handle it. You can take them next time.”

My shoulders dropped. “Are you kidding? Is he kidding? I’m not giving up over a hundred-dollar tip, Cory. What did I do?”

Cory shrugged. “I’m just the messenger. But I wouldn’t keep Mr. DiSalvo waiting.”

Mr. DiSalvo. No one called him that. He was Junior since the second I started working here. I wondered what gave. I just prayed whatever it was wouldn’t take more than five minutes. I’d earned that forty top, dammit.

Straightening my skirt, I headed into Junior DiSalvo’s office. He sat with his feet on the desk barking into his cell phone. He waved me over to a chair in front of him and made a big show of rolling his eyes and gesturing so I knew what he thought of the caller on the other end.

Junior had been nice enough to me and he’d given the final go-ahead on my hiring. But the guy was kind of a creep. He barely took the time to learn any of the waitresses’ names and when he came out to the main floor he wanted us all to jump around serving him. Usually he only did that when some other prominent business person or friend of his came into the bar. The guy was on a power trip, no question.

Junior hung up the phone and smiled at me, but it didn’t reach his dark eyes. He wore a purple silk dress shirt with a matching tie. He kept the top two buttons undone so a thatch of his chest hair spilled out. He had a gold Rolex on his wrist and twirled a ruby-studded ring on his right hand.

“You wanted to see me?” I started. Junior didn’t seem to be in any hurry get to the point. His face split into a sneer as he looked me up and down. I didn’t like it one bit and hoped I wasn’t in for another prickly situation like the one I’d had with his Uncle Frank last night. Frank was one thing, Junior, I’d heard, had a temper.

“You settling in all right, Maria?” he asked.

“Maya,” I corrected him, clearing my throat.

“Sure. Right. Maya. Of course. The customers like you. I’ve had some special requests.”

My blood turned cold. It might just have been my imagination, but he seemed to draw out the word special.

“Great. Actually, I’ve got a forty top getting seated right now. Is there something you need from me? I don’t want to make them wait.”

Junior waved a dismissive hand. “Sure. One of the other girls can get that started for you. I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page with something.”

“Oh? Shoot.”

Junior popped his feet off his desk and leaned forward. His skin had an almost orange glow from too much tanning. He wasn’t very old. Maybe thirty. He tried to project an air of gravitas I don’t think he’d earned. Rumor was, his parents had handed him this bar to run in an attempt to keep him out of trouble.

“You ever heard of the Dark Saints M.C.?” he asked and my breath left me.

“Just in passing,” I answered. My guard went up and I felt oddly protective of Axle. He’d been nice to me last night. Sure, I could have handled Frank on my own, but it was nice to know somebody else recognized it for the bullshit it was. “You know I haven’t lived in Port Azrael very long. I’m still trying to get the literal lay of the land.”

Junior nodded. “Good. That’s good. You should be cautious. I’m asking because one of the other girls mentioned she saw you talking to a member of that club after work last night. Is that true?”

I didn’t like his line of questioning one bit. I also didn’t like the idea that someone had been talking to him behind my back about something that did or didn’t happen when I was off the clock. Instinct told me to just smile sweetly and keep that argument to myself for now.

“I went home after work last night, Junior. I’m not sure what you’re insinuating, but I really do need to get back to the floor.”

Junior leaned even further forward and put a hand on my shoulder. His skin was hot and sweaty against my bare skin. I stayed still as stone, not wanting to betray my revulsion with a flinch.

“Just be careful who you associate with,” he said. “You’re newish in town so I’m going to do you a favor and tell you that to your face. I don’t need any of my girls making time with any of the Saints. It’s bad for business and bad for you. We clear?”

I felt like I was trying to swallow needles. I wasn’t Junior DiSalvo’s girl. What I did or didn’t do on my own time was none of his business. But it occurred to me that less than twenty-four hours ago, Axle had basically given me the same warning about Junior, minus trying to claim me as his property. I don’t know why I felt an instinctual need to defend Axle to somebody like Junior, but that rose up in me too.

I smiled and started to get up to leave. Junior pressed his hand harder against my shoulder, forcing me back into my chair.

“I’m serious,” he said. “And I’m doing you a favor, honey. The Dark Saints are bad news. I’d hate to see a pretty little thing like you ruining yourself over one of those thugs.”

“Thanks,” I said. I pushed back, daring Junior to get even more physical. And I’d be damned if I’d let him think he could push me around, literally or physically. That’s exactly how guys like him operated. If I showed even the slightest sign of weakness, I knew I could expect more of the same from him. In that, he was just like his lecherous uncle. I edged my chair away from the desk and rose to my feet.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, turning on my heel. I wasn’t afraid that he’d actually hurt me, not then. In little more than forty-eight hours, I’d have a major change of heart on that score.