Molding Stone

Bikers

 I sighed as I watched a group of men in leather walk through the door. As if on cue, they took a seat at the far corner booth and the majority of my customers stood from their seats and walked toward the bar, each digging out money to make a quick escape. Those sitting at the bar had already laid down their cash and were slipping out the door. My business always took a dip when the damn MC decided they needed to negotiate with whoever they'd been 'warring' with. I hadn't the foggiest idea why my uncle had seen fit to give them the okay to use the bar as a place to negotiate.

Who was I kidding? It was the money they had waved under his nose. The bar had been struggling when the MC had initially approached him years ago and they'd offered a thousand dollars for every time they used the bar. If I was being honest it was the only reason I hadn't reneged on their deal when the bar had been transferred to me. Thankfully, the bar hasn't struggled in a long time, but that didn't mean I would turn my nose up at the extra money that I didn't have to tell good ole Uncle Sam about.

Only a hand full of customers were brave enough to stick around while the MC conducted business in the corner, though they all sat as far away as possible and were already more than buzzed. If they had been sober I'm sure they would have run like the others, but the alcohol was doing its job and the MC didn't care about a witness that was too drunk to remember what day it was. You couldn't hear what they were discussing, the jukebox that was sitting next to their table made sure of that. One of their guys stood next to it and whenever a song was getting over they made sure to put another couple quarters in to keep it going, never allowing it to silence while the bosses held their meeting.

The motorcycles sitting outside were like a neon stop sign, meaning there wouldn't be any more customers walking in. During my lull I got to work clearing glasses from the nearby tables and bar, stacking them into a bin to leave by the sink for washing. I would be shutting down early tonight, like every night that the MC decided to stop by to conduct business. Most of Tacoma had a good idea of what went on behind the MC's closed doors and were jumpy at best during the day when members were on their best behavior in public, having them around while they were conducting business scared people and very few were dumb enough to stick around for fear of getting caught in the crossfire. Even if I stayed open I would be lucky if a couple stragglers came in after the bikes leave, but other than that the bar would be dead and that wasn't worth staying open for. Looking at the clock it was only eleven, I would be able to shut down between twelve and one. I sighed again as I collected the last glass and looked over at my cook as he was finishing up washing the pans.

"Eddy," I said, catching his attention.

"Yeah?" He asked looking up.

"When you finish there you can head home." Eddy looked a little confused.

"But my shift doesn't end till two." I nodded.

"I know and I'll pay you till two, but there's not going to be any more business tonight," I said and Eddy looked out the pass-through window. Eddy was young and hadn't been in town long but he knew what the leather vests meant almost as well as the locals.

"Because of them?" He asked nodding his head to the bikers and I nodded.

"You sure you want me to go home, boss? I'd hate to leave you alone with them." Eddy said and I smiled appreciatively at his concern. He wasn't nearly as scared of the bikers as the locals, but he knew enough to be wary and to watch what he said.

"Don't worry, they won't do anything to me. Trust me, old Greta will have something to say about it if they try." I gave Eddy a knowing look and he nodded.

"Alright. Thanks, boss." I nodded and headed back out to the bar and took a seat on the stool by the register, picking up the crossword puzzle I'd put down when the bar had gotten busy earlier.