I had started working for him in the first place. The little bit of extra money I had made was not worth it at all in the end. “I’m just not ready for that, Mitzy.”
“Then tell him that, honey.” She leaned close to me. “I know you’ve been through hell, and shit ain’t never going to be the same for you, but this is your chance to take matters into your own hands. You don’t want to talk to him, then don’t. You do want to talk to him, then do. That man isn’t gonna make you do anything you don’t want to, Memphis. No one in that club would hurt you.” Her words were firm and fierce. Mitzy wasn’t a member of the Royal Bastards, but she was loyal to them to a T. They did sign her paychecks after all. That had to be the reason why.
I had heard at one time, she had been hooking up with Barracuda, but that hadn’t lasted longer than a couple of weeks. That was before I had even started working at Skinz. Mitzy didn’t seem like the type to be an ol’ lady who kept quiet and did what she was told.
Mitzy looked down the length of the bar to where Six-Gun was seated. His eyes were trained on us, and a frown curled his lips down.
“You’re the reason why he looks like he’s about to cry into his beer,” she muttered.
“Me?’ I gasped. “I haven’t done anything to that man.” I was just trying to live my life and not have a complete mental breakdown again.
Mitzy rolled her eyes. “Not physically. I mean, mentally.” She reached for my tray and called for Onya. “Take care of this for Memphis, would ya?” she asked.
Onya took the tray with a smile and flounced off.
“She doesn’t even know where the drinks go,” I muttered. Now I wasn’t going to get a good tip from the table.
“She’ll figure it out.” Mitzy motioned to the two empty stools by the wall. “Sit your ass down, and let’s have a little chat. I should have talked to you when you came back to work, but I was too damn busy dealing with Rebel, Tank, and Rain.”
I sat down on the stool and turned my back to Six-Gun. I couldn’t talk and look at him. “I don’t know what we have to talk about.”
The night's theme appeared to be everyone wanting to talk to me—first Six-Gun and now Mitzy. Who was going to be next?
“Trust me, honey. There is a ton we could talk about, but for now, I’m gonna try to address your biggest problem.” Mitzy scooted her stool close, and it felt like we were in our own little bubble away from the rest of the club.
“I don’t even know what my biggest problem is, Mitzy.” It seemed like a long list of things that were wrong with me. I might as well just put them all in a hat and she could pull one out.
She raised her hand and shushed me. “You’re just gonna listen to me for a second, okay? Then you can go back to shoving your head in the sand or whatever it is you’re doing right now.”
I rolled my eyes and motioned for her to continue. If she wanted to talk to me when I was on the clock, then more power to her. She was my boss after all.
“I don’t know the specifics of what happened to you, and you don’t have to tell me. You don’t have to tell anyone if you don’t want to.” She cleared her throat. “But I think you should. Though that’s neither here nor there.”
“I don’t want judgment or anything from you, Mitzy. I feel that enough from everyone around here. Please don’t add to it.” I saw the way the girls looked at me. They never said anything, but it was written on their faces. They didn’t even know the half of what had happened in the gross, dirty house with Jester and his asshole friends.
Pity.
Disgust.
That was what was in their eyes when they looked at me.
“If anyone is judging you about what happened to you at the hand of Jester, then there is a special place in hell for them. Those are the people you don’t want in your life. Ignore those douche canoes.”
I rolled my eyes. That was so much easier said than done. “Was that what you wanted to tell me?” I had tried to tell myself the same