Lost in a Reverie 18+ Only (Book 1 of Lastor Series) ['23/'24 EDIT]

Chapter 64

Alex was ransacking my phone with calls and texts, threatening to quit after a sudden rush began at midnight through a dozen strong barhopping girls celebrating the 21st of one of theirs, accompanied by out-of-town bikers who came in throngs to celebrate with them. Several fights had broken out along with a strip tease that had taken over the band onstage while MJ was getting body shots done off him instead of tending bar. For a Tuesday night, this was quite the precedent.

One of the guards, who I was informed had been assigned to me by Ben, insisted to escort me. It was far too late and I was simply too fucking sober to make a fuss over it, and just let him stand in my shadow as long as he made it so I could effortlessly disregard his presence.

"Stay out of my sight," I said in warning once we'd parked outside the bar.

I got out of the car and walked ahead, with him quietly following several paces behind. When I entered the bar, Mark, the bouncer, was in the middle of getting himself beaten by both sides of a fight he was apparently trying to break up. The guy was nearly seven feet and three hundred pounds, but the sake of universal balance rendered him a fucking pussy who didn't know how to throw a punch. Not that I've ever seen him take a swing.

"R-Red!" he called out when he saw me approach, struggling to hold the drunken fools apart.

I held up a finger, heading to the bar where MJ had apparently graduated from getting body shots done off himself to being the one doing them on some chick's bare chest.

"I left my bed for this shit," I muttered to myself, yanking MJ by the hair.

He spun around, scowling and swinging an arm. He visibly flinched at the sight of me, his fist stopping inches from my head. He spat out the lemon in his mouth, flashing an easy grin. I dragged him off the bar, throwing him to the floor. Mindy, who was standing behind the register, reached down and tossed me the bat from under it.

"Hey, babe? You still can't kill, right?" MJ asked warily.

I sent him a glare. "Expect a pay dock, shithead."

"Oh, come on! I just got new rims for my bike!"

I let the bat thump against his head as I walked past him, heading over to the group of bikers swarming over Mark. By the looks of the two varying patches on their leather, I deduced another club had intruded. If not for the policy that all arms had to be deposited at the door upon entry, I had no doubt this would have devolved into a WACO situation.

I looked over to the stage where the band still continued their dog shit performance while a pair of girls were practically melting into each other in their underwear as bills showered them from the cheering audience.

I gestured for Mark to move aside and cocked my head to the stage. He nodded and rushed off. The moment he did, both sides tried to lunge at each other.

Bending at the knees, I swung low, the bat slamming hard at the legs of those that got in its way. They cursed and staggered from the hit. I stepped forward, holding the bat in the space between them as I took out my phone, scrolling through my contacts and pressing call on NY/MC (Savage).

"Say, what's a bunch of Savages doing across the river? Thought you people only let your precious wheels touch New York gravel?" I asked, tilting my head slightly to see past the visor of my cap. "Is trespassing a thing these days? How fucking uncultured."

"That's fuckin' right!" one bleeding biker seconded.

"Shut the fuck up," I snapped, swinging the bat at his shoulder. "You think just cuz MJ runs with you morons, you can treat this place like your clubhouse?"