Not sure I’ll ever be able to sell that to Saint, but I’ll try.
We pile into the truck, and Bry and I take seats in the back. We don’t talk as the truck ambles over bumpy terrain, but the silence is comfortable.
The bar is your typical back-end-of-nowhere ramshackle hut, but the beers are flowing freely, the music isn’t too cheesy, and the burger fills a hole in my belly. Bry and I are seated at the end of a long bench, as far away from the gnat as possible, talking quietly with our heads close together. “How did you and Dar meet?” I ask between sipping my beer.
“We met when we were ten. One of my older brothers was dating his sister Rita. He used to drag me to her place when he was babysitting me. Dar and I started hanging out in school after that, and a couple years later, he introduced me to The Arrows.”
“How many siblings do you have?”
“Three older brothers, and I had a sister, but she died a few months before I was born.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugs, picking at the label on his beer. “It’s cool. I never met her, so it was different for me. My eldest brother was super close to her, because there was only a year between them, and he’s never gotten over it.”
I want to ask him how she died, but I don’t want to be rude. I know from experience how hard it is talking about the death of a loved one.
“I’m sorry about your dad,” he says, shifting on the bench. His knee brushes against mine.
“Thanks.” I quietly sip my beer.
“I didn’t know that night at Galen’s place. I wouldn’t have let you see Dar with Tempest if I’d known.”
I take a mouthful of beer. “I don’t hold that against you. You did me a favor.”
He gulps back some beer. “You were always far too good for him. I never understood how he grabbed your attention or kept it for so long.”
“I was using him. I thought he might have intel I was after. When I found out he didn’t, I should’ve broken it off, but the sex was great, so I let it go on longer than it should have.”
“What intel?”
I shrug casually, like it’s nothing, because I can’t divulge the truth. Not until I know I can trust him. Sinner has just recruited him, and he seems firmly pro-Sainthood, but I know how easily that can be faked. If he discovered I only got with Darrow because he was the leader of the junior chapter of The Arrows and I was hoping he might have intel I could use to help take the Saints down, I’m not sure what he’d make of it.
The Arrows are known enemies of The Sainthood, and I felt sure they must have something on their rivals that would be of use, but I failed to understand how little sway Darrow has within the organization, and he was of fuck all use to me. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“I wanted to make a move on you,” he admits, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.
“I thought Dar was your friend. Isn’t there some bro code against that?”
“Dar and I barely tolerate one another these days.” He knocks back his beer, his grin turning into a grimace.
“Why? What happened?”
“We went in two different directions. He’s self-obsessed and selfish, and nothing or no one will stand in his way. I don’t like the person he’s become.”
I nod. “I’m with you there. He makes decisions purely on how they’ll impact him. How they’ll further his agenda.”
“I should’ve reached out to you after the party,” he says. “Maybe I might’ve stood a chance back then. Now, I see it’s too late.”
Fuck. I don’t want to hurt his feelings, but I won’t lead him on either. “I’m flattered, Bry, and I think we’ll be good friends. But it won’t be anything more. I’m sorry.”
He brushes a few stray hairs back off my face. “No need to apologize, Lo. You can’t force yourself to feel something you don’t. And the fact you’re straight with me only makes me respect you more. Saint and the guys are lucky bastards. I’m not surprised you’re the one who’s caught their eye. You’re pretty damn special, and they better make you feel like that because they’re not worthy of you otherwise. Galen sure as fuck isn’t.”
I clasp his hands, squeezing. “You will make some girl so fucking happy one day because I think you’re pretty damn special yourself.” I let his hands go, curling my fingers around my beer bottle. “And this thing with the guys is new. We’re all navigating choppy waters. I have history with Galen, Saint, and Theo, which complicates things.”
“But not Caz?”
I smile as I think of my big, burly, sexy guy, who’s all heart underneath that scary exterior.
“Wow.”
“What?” I ask, quirking a brow.
“I hope someone looks like that when thinking of me someday.”
His words prod at my heart, reminding me I’m not being careful. My smile slips a little. “Things are easy with Caz because there’s no painful past, and he’s laid-back, and he makes me laugh.” My smile returns. “He’s a good guy.”
“I’m reserving judgment,” he admits, and I appreciate his honesty.
“That’s fair, and I know the guys are doing the same with you.”
“No matter what I think of them, there’s no doubting how much they care about you. They made that perfectly clear on Monday.” He peers into my eyes. “They’ve got your back. Me too.”
I’m still smiling at Bry’s words as I emerge from the dingy bathroom a few minutes later. A hand wraps around my hair from behind, and I’m hauled back against a solid chest. My training kicks in, and I twist around, landing a punch in the guy’s gut. I wrench my head free, ignoring the stinging pain ripping across my scalp as several strands of my hair are yanked out.
John comes at me, anger contorting his face as he lunges at me with a knife. I duck down, swiping his legs out from under him. He grabs hold of my shirt before I can step aside, and we crash to the floor with him on top of me. He brandishes the knife at my face, and I grip his forearms, holding him off as the knife dangles precariously close to my flesh. He presses his large body down on top of me, and every attempt to push him off fails. Sweat beads on my brow as we battle for control of his arms. I dig my nails into his skin, as his mouth pulls into an ugly grimace. “I will enjoy slitting that pretty throat,” he threatens as pounding footsteps echo in the hallway.
He jerks his head up, and I use the distraction to my advantage, freeing one of my hands and scraping my nails across his cheek. He curses, pinning me with murderous eyes as he angles the knife, dragging it across my hand. I scream as Bry reaches us, lifting John up and slamming him against the wall. The knife falls to the floor with a loud clang. “You okay?” Bry asks from over his shoulder as he wedges John to the wall with his body.
I tear a strip off the bottom of the front of my shirt with my teeth, wrapping it around my bleeding hand. “I’m fine, but this asshole needs to be taught a valuable lesson.”
Bry grins, showcasing a set of white teeth. “What’d you have in mind?”
We drag John out the back door and beat the shit out of him. I feel zero remorse as I kick him in the ribs and the head, knowing, in some twisted way, I’m saving him from a fate much worse, because if the guys find out about this, they won’t hesitate to pull the trigger.