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There wasn't much that could be done now. The tears she had been shedding after his departure were dry, leaving red-rimmed eyes and silent hiccups in their wake. There wouldn't be any bruising for anyone to see. He was always careful where he hit her. She stood up from the floor, wincing at the strain the motion caused on her bruised and tender ribs.

He was gone and it was time to get ready for work.

Alex didn't bother looking at the damage as she threw on a new set of clothes. She knew she ought to, but part of her was afraid that if she saw the damage, the tenuous control she had on her mind would snap. Crying never solved anything. Her godmother had taught her thought, but sometimes the pain was just too much.

Throwing her copper locks into a messy bun on the top of her head, Alex grabbed up her keys, locking the door behind her as she made her way towards the Mayan clubhouse. The twenty-minute walk made it an ideal place to work at night since the Santo Padre metro system left a lot to be desired. Hell, it was practically non-existent, and Uber wasn't much better.

The walk was always peaceful. The light of the setting sun giving off enough of a glow to safely guide her way. There were times when she would even jog the distance. Using the time to clear her mind from the day's worries. Then, after her shift, the young redhead would crash in her dorm until it was once again light enough to travel home.

It was too early for the party to start. The only people to greet her on arrival were the sweetbutts, Chucky, and the new Prospect, who usually helped get things ready for the night. Smiling at the Prospect, she dismissed him from behind the bar with a wave of her hand so that he could be useful elsewhere in the club.

The bar was her territory on the weekends.

Alex quickly got to work, diving headfirst into stocking the supplies the members had used during the week, cutting up garnished, and polishing glasses. Anything to keep her mind off the aching pain of her body and the events leading up to it.

Working the bar was second nature to the young redhead, having done it most of her life. There was something about interacting with customers, getting to know their stories, and making them smile that made the hard work worthwhile. The Mayan's clubhouse made being a bartender even easier. Here, she was protected from the roaming hands, the drugs, and the possibility of rape. There were the occasional hang-arounds or visiting patched members who could get handsy, but it never went far. Especially when they realized she wasn't a sweetbutt.

It amazed her that anyone would mistake her for a club girl. The sweetbutts had a particular dress code: next to nothing. Their makeup was heavy and their clothes tight; if they were wearing any at all. Their sole purpose was to keep guests and members happy and entertained with lap dances, blow jobs, and sex. A hole to fill was how someone once put it to her a long time ago.

Jeans, converses, and a t-shirt didn't exactly scream sweetbutt in Alex's opinion. Nevertheless, mistakes were sometimes made. The fact that the club didn't require her to dress as a club girl was something Alex was truly grateful for. She had given up the 'MC club look' long ago and didn't have a mind to go back to it. Plus, it wasn't as if she was working for tips. The booze were free.

"Hey, bebita."

The voice was deep and rich, sending a wave of goosebumps up her skin. Alex didn't need to turn around to know who that voice belonged to. She had spent the last year and a half hearing it almost every day.

"Bishop."

Smiling, she popped the top off a beer before turning around to hand it to him. Nodding his head in thanks, he took a long swig, leaning his muscular frame against the side of the bar, ankles crossed. Just like the rest of the patched members of the MC, he wore a leather kutte with the Mayan logo stitched across the back over a tight black button-up. A patch on the front read 'Presidente' signifying his position.

"How are you doing?"

Alex smiled softly at the man. He asked this question every time he saw her, concern lining his dark eyes, pulling her in, as if begging her to tell him her closet demons. It wouldn't help though. There was nothing he could do.

"Same as always, Bish," She told him shrugging her shoulder nonchalantly. "Perfect."

Bishop shook his head. He didn't believe her. Not that she could blame him. Alex knew she was a horrible actress. The redhead had never been able to lie to him. Not very well at least. The president's brow creased, lips pressing into a hard line as if wanting to say something else. Instead, he simply nodded his head, took his beer, and walked off. Just like he always did. He never pressured her. Alex knew that if he did, she would crack like a chestnut on Christmas day.

She couldn't afford the risk, and neither could they.

==O==O==

Bishop was fairly certain she was hiding something. The young redhead had never been good at concealing her feelings, they were painted on her face as clear as day. It was one of the things he loved about her. His eyes followed her throughout the night, watching her smile and laugh with the guys and hang-arounds as she served them drinks and food.

The club had never had an official bartender before. Never really needed one with the sweetbutts and Chucky around. It hadn't been the most ideal position to put her in. Many of the guys had been worried that the sudden induction into the MC world would scare her away or cause her to shy deeper away into herself.

It surprised them how easily she had fit in behind the bar. They had all watched with rap fascination as she effortlessly commanded her first party. The shy and beaten girl they had found was nowhere to be seen as she flitted from table to table with a wide smile on her face and an ease that made it seem as if she had been working an MC her entire life.

A month or so later, Chucky had recommended she help out with the scrapyard in the office. The weird little man had done an amazing job by himself up to that point, but the constant club errands and intake paperwork were beginning to wear on him. Bishop had been reticent at first, but the girl had proven herself more than capable.

He knew she wasn't oblivious. Alex was well aware of what the club did, but she never said anything. She simply accepted them for who they were, flaws and all, so they did the same for her.

"Hey baby."

Bishop smiled up at the sweetbutt, tearing his eyes away from the redhead for the first time all night. She was one of the new girls that Alex had brought in. Luna was her name if he remembered correctly. A small stick of a woman with a round ass and a decent rack. The president took her offered hand, dragging her down into his lap, letting his free hand roam up her bare thigh as he kissed her.

It wasn't who he wanted, but she would do for now.

==O==O==

The next few hours flew by for the young bartender as she filled orders left and right, keeping the men plied with liquor for their night of fun and debauchery. Her eyes automatically followed Bishop throughout the night. She always seemed to know exactly where to find him, her sight homing in on him like he had some kind of locator beacon tuned just for her.

It seemed like yesterday that the man had found her starving on the streets, beaten, living off dumpster food, and sleeping in back alleys. In reality, it had only been a little over a year. Without him and the MC, Alex wasn't sure she would even be alive.

The redhead dropped her gaze at the sight of him entertaining a sweetbutt on his lap, tongue shoved down her throat, hand roaming her caramel-colored thigh. The sight still made her chest tighten and her stomach churn. Part of her had hoped there had been something between them. The first few months had been gentle touches, light kisses to her cheek and forehead. Small smiled. Then again, all the guys did that. They were her family; her brothers and Alex had come to terms with the fact that Bishop would never see her as more than his sister.

"How are you enjoying the night, mana?"

Coco's arm wrapped warmly around her shoulder, dragging her into his side in a friendly embrace. The man always seemed to know when she needed comfort.

"Nothing gets my engine revving like sex booze, and cigarettes, mano." She teased, wrapping her arm around her best friend's waist. The skinny caramel-skinned man had taken it upon himself to proclaim himself as her brother the minute Bishop had taken her in.

"That's what I keep saying," His voice was teasing, shooting her a wink as he reached for a beer from the cooler. "Haven't seen you around much lately except for work. What's up with that?"

"Just busy," Alex avoided looking at him as she wiped down the bar. "Gracie had been keeping me pretty busy at the Kennels since there has been a spike in intakes recently." It wasn't a complete lie. The Kennels had been busier than normal. Coco nodded his head, not quite believing her but deciding not to push. Something about her sudden change in demeanor didn't sit right with him.

He knew the Kennels had been pretty busy recently. It was common knowledge to almost every druggie, drunk, and gangster that the Kennels held more than just stray animals. The cold cots and warm blankets were a haven for those coming off their high. Some wanting to get clean while others needed a safe place to withdrawal before they could get their next hit. Coco knew how important the work was for Alex since she had been a paramedic before coming to Santo Padre.

The wild-eyed man stood a little while longer, chatting with her, keeping her up to date on what was going on with the guys before he finally went back to join the festivities, a blonde sweetbutt in his wake.

Alex was left to her own devices, the night keeping her fairly busy as she filled orders until the party started winding down. Her eyes followed Bishop as he led a sweetbutt back to his dorm, casting a smile at his remaining brothers before his dark eyes found hers.

His smile wavered at the half-smile she gave him while wiping down tables, cleaning up the mess the guys had managed to make throughout the party. He paused for a second, eyes holding hers, before shaking his head and returning his full attention to the girl on his arm. Alex swallowed back the lump that had formed in the back of her throat as she focused her attention back on the task at hand.

Crying wasn't going to solve anything.

A/N: Hope you like it. Co-written with Hennele-Rogue. We love reviews and follows and faves!