Alison's Story

42 Pages·2014·0.34 MB·English

by  Thorne Diane

Evernight Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2013 Diane Thorne

ISBN: 978-1-77130-308-8

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor: Karyn White

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this
copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or
reproduced electronically or in print without written permission,
except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are
fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
ALISON’S STORY

Sisters of Lonewood, 5

Diane Thorne

Copyright © 2013

Chapter One

"One for you, and one for you," Alison said as she set the beer
bottles on the counter in front of her two customers.
"Thanks, Ali." Tony lifted his drink.
She gave him a crooked grin. "My pleasure."
Pass on the chance to serve Tony? Never. She served drinks to
plenty men in the bar, but Tony's blue eyes and dark hair made him
the cutest one she'd met. His large muscles under his tight shirt stole
her attention, too. Add his politeness and charm and he was the
hottest man in town, at least in her book. As for his friend, Ben, he
had appealed to her also with his light brown hair and eyes. He was
quiet and reserved, but just as courteous. Although he was a tad bit
shorter than Tony, Ben's build was just as beefy. She wondered a few
times if they were lovers, but after they'd hit on and dated a couple of
women she found the answer.
"Anything else I can get for you?"
Tony looked at Ben sitting on the stool next to him.
"No. This will do. I think you know our routine pretty well."
Ben picked up his beer.
"Well, you've only been coming in at the same time every
Tuesday and Friday for the last two months. And—"
"Seven weeks to be more precise," Ben said.
She folded her arms across her ribs. "You keep exact times?"
"We're in training for eight weeks, and then we get officially
sworn in," Tony said before he took a drink.
"Sworn in for what?" she asked.
Ben swallowed and set his bottle on the counter. "The police
force. We'll officially be active officers after the swearing in
ceremony in a week."
"Ah, now I know why I never saw you before seven weeks
ago," she said.
"We're from a small town in Tennessee," Tony said. "We met
at college in Nashville and both had similar interests in the criminal
field."
"I wanted to be a lawyer, but all the continuing education
classes, costs for law school, and expensive insurance…" Ben shook
his head.
"I talked him out of it," Tony said.
"So, why did you move here?" Alison asked.
Tony leaned on the counter. "I saw job openings and
suggested it. He," Tony tilted his head toward Ben, "wanted to move
to Indianapolis or Kansas City. I told him those places pay better but
have higher crime rates. As rookies, we might want to start in a
smaller town, but not too small, and gain experience before heading to
a big city."
"Have you lived here long?" Ben lifted his bottle and took a
drink.
Alison lowered her arms and slid her hands into the back
pockets of her skinny black jeans. "My entire life."
"Have you always been a bartender?" Tony asked.
"Pretty much. I didn't really want to go to college and couldn't
afford it anyway. I worked odd jobs until I could take bartending
classes."
"And you like it?" Tony asked.
"Yeah, it's okay. Most of my family is here, and I make good
money. I like the hours, too."
The loud clank of a glass caught her attention. Peering past
Ben, she saw Brad and two of his biker friends sitting at one of the
round tables. They were laughing and holding their hands over upside
down shot glasses.
Brad turned to meet her gaze. He leaned against his wooden
chair. "Ali, baby, we need more drinks."
"Excuse me," she said to Ben and Tony.
Sighing heavily, she grabbed a bottle of tequila and headed for
the end of the bar. Only a few other patrons remained in the tavern. A
group of four men played pool in the billiards room, and a cluster of
couples sat in a booth near the window. They'd been quiet and hadn't
bothered her much compared to Brad and his rowdy friends.
Thankfully, closing time was a half hour away, and everyone would
have to leave.
Brad leaned forward toward his friends and whispered
something as she approached them. They all had similar hunky builds,
bald heads, and styles. No surprise since they belonged to a gang.
Brad had the shortest goatee and the most earrings in his ears. He was
more outgoing and louder than his buddies, but he'd always been that
way. When he'd asked her out on a date, she'd gone because he
seemed exciting and adventurous. After an hour of listening to him
talk about all the women he'd fucked, she decided she didn't want to
be one of them. She survived the evening with only a kiss and several
gropes, but since that night, he persisted in asking her out again.
"Ready for more?" she asked as she held the liquor bottle up
and came to a stop between Brad and one of his friends.
Brad leaned back. "Always ready for more, especially from a
woman."
"A sexy woman," the man farthest from her said. He had fat
fingers and a huge ring on his finger.
"With big tits and wide hips," the man with crow's feet near
his eyes said. He had the longest beard out of all of them.
Alison ignored their comments and flipped over the shot
glasses. "I'm sure all of you have a fine woman waiting for you at
home."
Mr. Fat Fingers chuckled. "Some of us do."
She removed the cap from the bottle, then filled the glasses
with the brown tequila.
"You closing tonight, baby?" Brad asked.
She hesitated to answer. "Yeah."
Brad reached for his shot. "Want to come over to my place
when you get off?"
"I'll pass. I have plans for the day and need to get some rest."
She finished pouring the last bit, then met Brad's gaze. "Add it to your
tab?"
He winked at her. "You know I'm good for it, and more."
"Sure." She patted his shoulder.
The men chuckled as she turned. A slap on her ass stopped her
from walking away. Laughter from the men grew louder while she
gripped the neck of the bottle almost tight enough to shatter the glass.
With a deep breath, she moved forward. The sting branching out over
her butt cheek didn't compare to the anger bubbling within her. Still,
she pushed aside her feelings and focused on her job.
Reaching the inside of the bar, she slammed the bottle of
liquor behind the counter.
"You all right?" Ben asked.
"I'm fine. Another beer?"
Ben slid money on the counter toward her. "No, we're good.
Your face is red."
"Oh, sorry." She took the cash from him.
"Do you know them?" Tony asked.
She took their empty bottles off the counter. "Yeah. Well, one
of them. Brad is the guy with the piercings. I've seen the other two in
here before, but I don't know their names."
"That must annoy the hell out of you when they hit on you,"
Ben said.
"You have no idea. But this is a bar. Things like that happen
on occasion."
She set the bottles in a tub under the counter, then grabbed a
towel and cleanser. As she aimed the spray at the counter, the couples
in the booth stood. All but one man started donning their winter coats.
He headed toward her, and she set the cleaning bottle behind the
counter.
"Calling it a night?" she asked the customer.
He handed her a credit card. "Yeah, we're heading home."
Alison spun and headed for the register. She completed his tab
and swiped his card. Once the receipt printed, she tore it from the
machine. She handed the thin paper, his card, and a pen to the
customer.
"Be careful driving," she said. "I hear it's been snowing all
night."
After he signed the receipt, he handed it to her. "Thanks. Have
a good morning."
"You, too."
Alison placed the paper in the basket with the others, then
returned to cleaning the counter. She sprayed several areas first before
wiping the towel over the surface. As she reached Tony and Ben, the
men from the billiards room walked into the bar. Only two of the four
had winter jackets.
"Guess everyone is ready to head home," she said as she
rubbed the damp towel over the counter.
"Do you typically close on Fridays?" Tony asked.
"Yeah. Five nights a week. I like to have Saturday nights off."
Hearing the clanking of bottles behind her, Alison straightened
and stepped back. Charles, her boss, stepped around the corner ten
seconds later. Whenever he left his office he'd slam the door and the
liquor bottles would rattle.
"Hey, Charley," she said as he came to a stop in front of the
register.
He typed in a quick code on the screen. "How many are we
waiting on?"
"Just Brad. Everyone else has paid." She moved closer to him
while gripping the cloth in her hand. At six foot four, he towered over
many, especially her. He had trimmed dark hair and a beard, typical
of men during the winter months. His attire consisted of the usual
jeans and T-shirt to show off his muscles and deter men from trying to
fuck with him. A tattoo covered his arm while a small gold band
wrapped around one of his fingers. The man had divorced his wife
over five years ago, but he claimed wearing the ring attracted more
women than not wearing it. Hell, she would've dated him if it weren't
for the fact they worked together. He'd retired early from the Army
and moved to Lonewood after his divorce. The man had plenty of
tales that he frequently shared with her and customers. She loved
hearing about his adventures.
Charles glanced over his shoulder and scanned the tavern.
"Why don't you check the tables and back room? I'll stay here for a
bit."
"Sure thing, boss."
Alison stopped at the booth where the couples had sat and
wiped the table and the cushions. As she bent over to reach the back,
she heard whistles. Ignoring them, she finished cleaning the area, then
glanced out the window. Snow fell in the form of large flakes and
blanketed the ground. February was always the worst month of the
year.
From one table to the next, she dusted them and the chairs.
She'd completed checking most of the tavern when Tony and Ben
approached her. Both men were sliding their jackets over their
shoulders.
"Leaving?" she asked.
"Well, it is closing time, and I'm sure you'd like to get home at
a decent time," Tony said with a smile.
She returned the favor. "I like you, and I hope you two don't
stop coming every Tuesday and Friday once you're officially cops."
"Not a chance, especially now that you admit to liking us,"
Ben said as he zipped his coat.
Tony looked at his friend. "I think she directed that at me."
A chuckle slipped from her. "It was meant for both of you."
"See. I told you." Ben met her gaze, and his smile turned
serious. "Be careful leaving this place."
"I always am."
As they left, she headed for the billiards room, walking as far
as she could from Brad and his buddies. Of course, they wouldn't
leave early. Brad always waited until Charley hinted at closing time.
Alison spent fifteen minutes cleaning the back room. She put
all the supplies back in their proper place, picked up bottles, and
wiped the main areas. Her shoes stuck to the floor in a few places, but
the janitor would mop and resolve that problem. When she headed for
the bar with the last batch of beer bottles in her arms, she found Brad
standing at the counter with a pen in his hand.
"Have a good night, Brad," Charles said.
"Oh, I hope to." Brad twisted and met Alison's gaze. "Catch
you later, baby."
He left as Alison dumped the bottles into the tub. "Back room
is clean. I'll wipe the last few tables."
"I really wish you wouldn't have gone out with him."
She rolled her eyes. "I know. I know. You warned me, and I
didn't listen." Charley treated her like a father would, giving her
advice, listening to her concerns, and letting her borrow money on a
few occasions. The man looked rough on the outside, but he had a
kind heart inside. Since her father had died early, she greatly
appreciated his efforts.
"He only thinks with his…" Charles's gaze lowered, and he
shook his hand in front of his groin.
"Yeah, I figured that out. Don't worry. I'm not interested in
him." She walked past him and headed for the last few tables to clean.
"Those other two guys seem nice," Charles said loudly.
Grinning, she ran the cloth over the surfaces. "Yeah, they’re
cops." And they were kind and pleasant men to be around. Good
looking, too. She enjoyed serving them two nights a week and
wouldn't mind if she saw them more.
"They told you that?"
"Yeah." She dusted the chairs.
"Well, that's good to know in case we ever need security."
After she finished, she returned behind the counter and tossed
the towel with the others in the basket. "Done."
Charles had the receipts spread into three piles behind the
counter. He glanced at the windows before meeting her gaze. "Go
ahead and go. I won't be much longer."
"Are you sure? Do you want me to count the—"
"No, don't worry about it. Send me a text when you get home
so I know you made it safely."
Alison wasn't about to argue. She walked past him and patted
his shoulder. "Thanks, boss."
She snatched her purse from a cabinet under the counter, then
rounded the corner and grabbed her leather jacket from the hook on
the wall. Clutching her bag between her legs, she slipped her arms
into the sleeves of her coat. Too excited to get home, she didn't bother
zipping it.
"Don't forget," he said as she strode toward the door.
"I won't. Bye, Charley."
A gust of cold air hit her fast when she opened the door and
stepped outside. She hurried along the sidewalk, boots crunching in
the snow. The once busy street appeared deserted with snow hiding
the last tire tracks and covering the remaining three parked vehicles.
All the other shops along the road were dark, and the stoplight farther
down flashed red. During the day, 1st Street was one of the busiest.
At almost two a.m., it was serene.
Alison held her jacket tight to her body as she turned the
corner. She stepped from the curb and walked in one of the tracks of
the small alley. Lights shone, allowing her to watch the snowflakes
flutter gracefully. Cold air filled her lungs with each breath, and she
shivered. The ride home would make for a chilly one, but at least she
could take a long, hot shower and relax.
She fished inside her bag for her keys as she reached the back
of the building. Lifting her gaze, she spotted three cars facing the
building, one of which was hers and one of which belonged to
Charles. The other vehicle, the one closest, took her by surprise, and
she paused, her heart thumping faster.
Brad opened his door and stepped from his truck. "Ali, baby,
can we talk for a moment?"