Rescuing Ramsey

“What does this woman want?” Peg questioned while she marched through the kitchen toward the front of The Penalty Pub.

“It sounded like some French wine,” Karen replied.

“No shit. It’s wine. Help me out a little,” Peg responded, glancing at the younger woman walking behind her.

“Um, chateau something.”

“Remind me to give you a refresher course on drinks on a slow day.”

“Why? We don’t serve stuff like that,” Karen pointed out.

“Yet, you might end up bartending in a place that does someday,” Peg explained, reaching the saloon-style door that led to behind the bar.

The thirty-one-year-old brunette allowed the younger employee to pass through the door first. It worked better to arrive as the sent-for manager as a method to placate an unsatisfied customer. It often helped the customer compromise on a different drink as they felt they'd received the proper attention.

“Well, did you find me any Chateau Cheval back there? It took you long enough,” the customer said, greeting Karen’s return.

“I brought you the manager,” Karen revealed, gritting her teeth.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. Unfortunately, our regular clientele doesn't–" Peg started to politely explain before the customer cut her off.

“Peggy Dow! What a surprise! And working as a sports bar manager. Who would’ve expected that…well, everyone.”

Accustomed to interacting with all types of riffraff during her years of friendship with Loretta Klackhurst and working for her family, Peg rarely dropped her jaw in surprise. This happened to be one of those moments.

Sitting at the bar was an immaculately dressed woman. The dress she wore might have rivaled Peg's reported salary for a year. Yet, even more infuriating to Peg was the perfect mixture of arrogance and condescension in the expression she wore. This woman had always been far more intelligent than Peg when they knew each other, and she'd never failed to remind her.

“Do you know each other?” Karen asked, failing to pick up the scowl forming on Peg’s face.

Instead, the blonde bartender studied the customer, wondering why a woman dressed in a ballgown was in a sports bar on New Year's Eve. She didn't appear to be looking to score some ****. If anything, the short-haired brunette seemed amused and disgusted at stepping inside The Penalty Pub.

“Wrenn Whelan,” Peg spat.

“It’s Whelan-Engram these days. Oh, no ring on your finger? Or is it too tiny to see?” Wrenn needled, leaning forward to peer at her old classmate’s hand.

"Bitc–Wrenn, what are you doing here?" Peg asked after catching her tongue.

“One moment,” Wrenn replied, holding up a finger. Then, she turned to face the football jersey-wearing guy seated two seats over. “As I was saying, I’d hold off on buying that phone. The new model will be announced in two weeks. The new additions will make up for dealing with that old thing you have for a little longer.”

“Rally? Howish ya bow?” the heavily drunk man asked.

“I run the division providing several of the applications for the upgrades,” Wrenn explained. “And I highly suggest it as the sharper screen will help with your periodically blurry vision.”

“Tinks, ledy!”

“You are perfectly welcome. I can now write off this unique stop as customer research,” Wrenn stated brightly before turning back to face the two women. “Now, what were you asking, Peggy?”

“What are you doing in here, bitch?” Peg challenged, unable to keep her composure.

“Wow! Manners, Peggy, manners. You need to mind them. No wonder you’re employed in such a sty.” Wrenn emphasized her distaste by running a finger along the bartop and grimacing at the dirt it picked up.

“I’m not in the mood for your smart alec behavior, Whelan. New Year’s Eve is intense enough without added annoyances.”

“Oh, my! Such a nasty way to greet an old classmate. Is there a problem in the back? Did Loretta get arrested? Or is Lash in pain?” Wrenn asked, playing with her phone.

Wincing, Karen realized this went far beyond an uppity customer with a complaint. Peg and Lash Klackhurst had been an off-and-on item when they were younger. That pairing hit a significant hurdle when Brandy Fallon stomped Lash's testicles with her high heels. The damage done was a taboo topic around the Klackhursts. Karen only knew the details as Lana Stratton threatened to do the same to Lash's younger cousin, Butch, back in high school. The threat came about as he'd constantly pestered Peyton Tarver. Karen had been surprised to learn that Peyton and Brandy were related.

“Lash is away,” Peg stated through now grinding teeth.

“At college? Nothing wrong with a person starting a decade later than usual.”

“You know precisely where Lash is,” Peg growled.

Looking at his usual spot, Peg cursed Travis for disappearing. But if the bouncer wasn't around, that didn't mean she couldn't throw Wrenn out herself. In fact, Peg loved the idea of tossing the smart alec onto the cold cement.

“I think it’s time for you to leave. We don’t serve what you like.”

“Oh, I can’t do that,” Wrenn waved off the suggestion while never looking up from her phone.

"And why is that?" Peg questioned as she motioned for Karen to prepare to evict Wrenn from the premises.

“Well, I’m waiting for a friend. She’s supposed to arrive after I’ve done reconnaissance and provided a necessary distraction,” Wrenn glanced up at Karen. “Honey, I think I’d like to place an order.”

“Wait; what?” Karen looked confused by Wrenn’s comment and the sudden request.

Peg didn’t speak. Instead, a sick feeling hit her.

The door’s bell chimed as it opened.

“There she is now. Over here!” Wrenn called, raising her hand to be seen.

Peg's hand gripped the bar's edge as the woman who ruined Lash's babymaking ability strolled into The Penalty Pub.

Kroy exited the office, took a sharp left turn, and headed for the door that led outside to the alley. With a vigorous shove, the door flew open in dramatic fashion. A blast of cold and light snow met him.

Storming outside, Kroy spotted the man with the camera. He currently had it raised in front of his face as he took more pictures of the security camera. Can’t be the cops. Maybe a private dick?

“Stop that right now, asshole!”

Kroy’s order nearly made the guy drop the camera. Able to keep a hold of it, the man still lowered the camera enough for the Klackhurst associate to see his face. And he recognized the photographer.

“Well, ain’t this some shit! What’s your clumsy ass doing, Barrie?” Kroy questioned, his concern over the photographer fading. “Wait, where’s Singer? His sidekick is never around without him.”

“Finn’s not here,” Barney replied, slowly backing away from the ex-school troublemaker.

“Then it’s my lucky day. I still owe you two for that story about my poker games. You ruined a good scam for a high school sophomore.” Although a year older than Finn and Barney, Kroy had been held back a grade for excessive unexcused absences in the eighth grade.

“That was Nosy Nectar, not The Buzzy Bee,” Barney pointed out, backing up further.

With snow crunching under his feet, Kroy’s long strides closed the gap. Yet, the street-smart criminal didn’t realize the door he’d shoved open hadn’t bounced back to close. Only now did the metal door softly shut.

“Don’t give me that shit. I know you’re part of Nosy Nectar. I know!" Kroy yelled, almost in front of Barney. "Singer's not here for his punishment or to save you from yours. Time for a beating."

Kroy grabbed the front of Barney's jacket with his left hand while cocking his right. Only Barney's face didn't feel the blow. Kroy did. Yet, it didn't come from skin and knuckles but from something cold, wet, and hard.

“Took you long enough!” Barney complained, falling against the neighboring building’s wall

"You were fine," a new voice replied. Moments later, another snowball slammed into the top of Kroy's bent-over head. "Now, get to the car, Barn."

"Singer you're…You!" Kroy bellowed, recognizing the snowball thrower as a third one sailed toward him. This time, he managed to duck his head in time.

“Long time no see, Turner. Miss me?” Nate inquired with a shit-eating grin while throwing his fourth snowball. This one missed by a mile, hitting a wall. “Shit. I’m rusty. No snow where I’m from.”

“Uh, Nate!” Barney yelled.

The photographer had nearly reached the front end of the alley. However, his escape route had been blocked by a massive man.

"Kinda busy," Nate responded, using up his last snowball as Kroy sprinted toward him.

“Why you taking pictures?” Travis growled, frightening Barney.

The clumsy young man had never been a fighter. Even if he had, the brute towering over him would be an easy loss if it came to fisticuffs. So Barney did what he knew best. He raised the old-school-style camera with its oversized flashbulb and took Travis’ picture.

“Aaah!”

Up close, the bright flash blinded the bar’s bouncer. Shocked that it worked, Barney hesitated before dashing through the narrow opening between Travis’ body and the wall.

"Good job, Barn!" Nate cheered, ducking Kroy's wild punch. Then, the short yet powerful Toone landed his own body blow that staggered his old childhood and vacation-stay enemy.

“What’s the matter, Kroy? Forget what a real punch feels like?”

“Goddamn!” Sig screamed from inside the small room/hallway.

Sensing this was her best shot, Ramsey took advantage of the security camera footage distracting the pub owner. Jumping up, she grabbed her stuff and whipped open the door. Rushing through it, Ramsey slammed straight into another person.

“Oww!”

“Ms. Graff?” Ramsey looked over at the person she’d fallen to the floor with. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re supposed to be a journalist, Rammy. Why else would I be here?” Fawn challenged, untangling herself from her student.

“Oh! Daisy sent you?”

Fawn sighed while looking at the ceiling. These were the moments she questioned her decision to be around teenagers every day.

“More like we decided to save one of my nosiest students. But we’ll save the scolding for later. Let’s go.”

Ramsey nodded eagerly before heading toward the door that led to the alley. Only Fawn grabbed her arm to stop her.

“Not that way.”

“But it leads outside,” Ramsey protested.

Seconds later, a loud bang sounded as something hit the door hard on the other side.

“Right, we’re going out the front door.”

“There’s the smart girl I know,” Fawn responded, pulling Ramsey in that direction.

Ignoring the admiring looks the two well-dressed women received from the patrons playing billiards in the back room, Fawn guessed correctly where to turn. After taking the corner, they speed-walked down the hallway leading to The Penalty Pub's front section.

Able to spot her friends, Fawn rolled her eyes at Wrenn, slouched back on her stool, sipping from a cocktail. The worrywart of their trio had enough liquor in her by now to be chatty. An action that led her to provide comments about the reactions Brandy’s arrival caused. The pub contained enough people who recognized the blonde, and word quickly spread among the others about her reputation. Several verbal disputes erupted as people disbelieved that this model-looking beauty could’ve done those things.

Several feet away from Wrenn, Brandy and Peg stood nearly chest to chest in a staredown. Threats came from the brunette while the blonde challenged her to make good on them. Most pub patrons had lost interest in the games on the television screens, except for the degenerate gamblers—still, even one of those tossed out the odds over the potential catfight.

"Really? I'd like to see you try, Peggy. The last five times didn't go so well for you," Brandy reminded.

“That’s because you cheat, cunt!”

“There’s no cheating in fighting. I play smart and dirty,” Brandy shot back. “What’s the matter with you? Even Loretta respected that about me.”

“Loretta hates you.”

"I didn't say otherwise," Brandy chuckled. Then, she spotted Fawn with Ramsey over Peg's shoulder. "Too bad for me; it's time to go."

"You're not going anywhere, bitch. Butch is on his way over here. Maybe even Clancy. I'm sure they'd like to have a few words with you," Peg suggested gloatingly.

“Butch is a pussy. Lana scared him shitless.”

“I can’t wait until you tell him that to his face.”

“Hello, Peggy. Goodbye, Peggy,” Fawn greeted, walking past the standoff while dragging Ramsey with her.

Peg didn’t appear shocked at all to see Fawn, but she did do a double-take at Ramsey.

“Ah, the bookworm. Of course, the third part of your trio is here,” Peg remarked. “And I’m going to assume that the little snoop is Graff’s friend.”

“Fawn’s the school librarian, duh,” Wrenn responded, downing her drink as she walked over. “Wait, do you even know what's inside a library? I know you never visited ours.”

“That’s it! You’re dead, Whelan!” Peggy exclaimed, turning to face the short-haired brunette.

"Touch me, and I'll own this bar," Whelan warned, dropping the tipsy chatterbox act or partial act, as she was a little tipsy. Her steely tone threw Peg off.

"Wrenn's become a bit of a bitch since high school," Brandy commented, gesturing for her to follow Fawn out the door. "Wish the Klackhursts a happy new year. It's been a while since we last tussled."

Brandy turned and headed toward the front door, ignoring Peg’s threats. Stopping for a second, she looked over her shoulder while pushing out her ass suggestively.

“Shows over, folks.”

Brandy joined the other three women walking outside as an SUV screeched to a stop at the curb.

“I can’t believe I did that,” Wrenn admitted, walking around the passenger side. “It’s like the old days.”

"Just another day in my life whenever Brandy's around," Fawn remarked, opening the back door to ensure Ramsey got inside.

“Me? I’m saving your student, not starting trouble.”

“Hey, I called shotgun!” Wrenn reminded. “I am not wrinkling this dress.”

“Sorry,” Barney apologized, begrudgingly giving up the prime seat. Instead, he waited for the driver to push the button that opened the SUV’s rear hatch.

“Oomph!” Nate sounded as Travis tossed him against the neighboring building.

“Not so cocky now, are you, Toone?” Kroy gloated. Then, he motioned for the bouncer to hold his old rival still so that he could get a free shot in.

Travis did so, but then he spotted two familiar faces rushing down from the alley’s entrance from the neighboring street.

“Butch and Enzo are coming.”

"They are?" Kroy queried, turning his head to the left to peer down the long alley.

That action caused him never to see the kick coming. All Kroy knew was that intense pain in his groin caused him to howl and stagger back. A shout from the two approaching men spurred Nate into further action.

Slamming his head back into Travis’ face, the big man dropped his hold, freeing Nate.

Stepping forward, Nate landed a punch directly into the left side of Kroy’s jaw.

“I guess you’re the one who won’t be cocky tonight, Kroy. But, hey, there’s plenty of snow and ice to soothe the pain,” Nate pointed out, chuckling.

Next, he turned to strike Travis’ knee with a kick.

"Dammit, kid, stop fooling around," yelled the SUV driver. He stopped in front of the alley next to The Penalty Pub.

Glancing at the two men running from the opposite end of the alley, Nate merely jogged toward his getaway car.

“Fooling around? I’m the one buying time because you’re too pussy-whipped to help, Uncle Teddy,” Nate shouted.

“Ooh! He’s got you on that one,” Brandy teased from the seat behind her old neighbor.