Bullies Sl-apped the Waitress in a Bar — She Dropped Him Instantly Like a Strike
Chapter 8
Theme:
Font Size:
24px
Hollis came around the bar fast, wiping his hands on his apron. "You all right?" he asked Wren, his voice tight with concern."I'm fine," she said, though her cheek was already turning red where Brett's hand had landed.Margaret rushed over from her table, both hands pressed to her mouth. "Oh, honey. Oh, you didn't have to do that for me.""Yes, I did," Wren said gently, and managed a small, tired smile. "Nobody talks to you like that. Not while I'm working here."Margaret's eyes filled up, and she reached out and squeezed Wren's arm like she was holding on to something precious.From his booth in the corner, Walter Hodges hadn't moved an inch. He sat perfectly still, coffee cold in front of him, watching Wren with an expression none of the other customers noticed. It wasn't shock, not exactly. It was recognition.He had seen that kind of movement before, a very long time ago, in men who had trained for years to make violence look effortless and who spent the rest of their lives trying to make sure they never had to use it. He had never, not once in nearly eight decades of living, seen a woman move like that.Something in his gut told him this young waitress carrying trays of beer and apple pie was not who she appeared to be. He didn't say anything that night. He just watched her carefully as she went back to work: apron straightened, tray balanced, voice steady as she checked on her other tables, like nothing had happened at all.But Walter Hodges noticed things. He always had. And that night, he made a quiet decision to keep watching.By the time closing hour rolled around, most of the regulars had gone home, buzzing quietly about what they'd witnessed. Small towns don't keep secrets long. By morning, half the county would know that Brett Whitmore got knocked flat on his back by the new waitress at the Anchor. Some would laugh about it. Others, the ones who knew the Whitmore family, would shake their heads and say the same thing under their breath:"That girl doesn't know what she just started."Hollis locked the front door a little after 11:00. Wren stayed behind to help him clean up, sweeping broken glass into a dustpan, wiping down the last few tables in silence."You sure you're okay?" Hollis asked again, watching her closely. "That's not nothing, getting hit like that.""I've had worse," Wren said simply. Then, seeing the look on his face, she added, "I'm okay, Hollis. Really."He studied her for a long moment. There was something about the calm in her voice that unsettled him more than if she had been shaking."That move you did," he said carefully, "that wasn't just some lucky reflex, was it?"Wren paused, broom still in her hand. "No," she said finally. "It wasn't."She didn't offer anything more, and Hollis, sensing the door was closing on the subject, didn't push.