Loser II || WlW

One

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Note: Some of you may have already read this chapter as I posted it at the end of "Loser" as a spoiler for what's ahead. 

There are only some minor edits and a note at the end has been added. 

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     He throws another hook; misses. He's sloppy, his movements slowed by liquor.

I smile. I don't know why a preppy college kid in cargo shorts and boat shoes thought he could win this fight anyway.

He slicks his bleached hair back with sweat.

One of his friends pats him on the back. "Come on, man! Take her out already!"

"You could just give up," I offer, jumping back to avoid another jab. "If you quit now, I won't beat your ass in front of your girl." I find his girlfriend in the crowd that surrounded us and wink at her just to piss him off.

His lips pull into a snarl as he dashes toward me, letting out some kind of war cry.

I dodge to the left, trip him, and send him crashing into the dumpster. I glance at the dumpster lid. I could close it on him, bruise a few ribs. I shake my head. Not worth it. It's not his fault anyway. Jealousy is one hell of an emotion.

"Jordan," someone snaps.

My eyes shoot to my boss, his arms crossed over his chest as he stands in the back doorway.

He flicks his chin for me to follow him. "Go home," he says to the boys. "If I see you guys messing with my bar back again, I'll give her incentive to kick all your asses." He raises his eyebrows at them and they scurry away before he pushes past me through the back.

The cooks straighten up as we pass, careful not to piss Boss off. I'm not sure why they're so afraid of him. Rumor has it, he spent most of his life in a bike gang, but I'd bet money it was one of those bike gangs that saves kittens from sewage drains. Boss doesn't seem like the type to hurt people.

"Usually, when I can't find my employees, they're outside smoking pot," he grumbles.

"Boss, I can explain." I'm nearly running to keep up with him.

"Jackson's usually sleeping in the spare room. Jose likes to go to the motel during his breaks... We all know what he's doing there."

"Boss, I didn't even start it this time. That kid –"

"Not you though. No," he pushes through the double doors to the dance floor, and continues toward his office, "you like to fight the customers."

"Boss, I didn't do anything! Just let me explain," the urgency in my tone is growing the closer we get to the break room. I can't lose this job. It's the only thing that keeps me sane.

"Oh, you're going to explain, alright." Boss stops just in front of the door to the breakroom, his eyes hard.

"Boss, I'll –" But as I think of an explanation, he pushes the door open. The lights flip on and dozens of my coworkers jump out from behind lunch tables.

"Happy birthday!" they shout in unison.

My heart stops. "Oh my god," I laugh. "Oh my god, you didn't." Tears push at my eyelids as coworkers swarm me with hugs and birthday wishes.

Boss gives my back a hearty slap. "I really had you, didn't I?" He laughs the kind of laugh that fills the whole room and gives me a bear hug. "Beat the shit out of all the boys. I don't care. Just don't get hurt." He shrugs. "Make sure you grab yourself a slice of cake before you get back to work."