Chapter 9
NINE
BLADE
Rev and I are posted up at our usual table in the back of Perdition, a couple beers in, watching the crowd roll in like always.
The place is packed tonight, loud music, low lighting, and that buzz in the air that says someone’s gonna do something stupid before last call. Happens every damn Saturday.
I lean back in my chair, toothpick tucked in the corner of my mouth, one arm slung over the backrest as I watch the bar from beneath the brim of my hat. It’s second nature now, scanning exits, reading body language, clocking potential problems before they pop off. Habit. Life. Club.
Rev kicks his boot up on the edge of the table and tips his bottle toward the door. “I swear to God, you’ve been staring at that door all night like it owes you money. What the hell are you waitin’ on?”
I ignore him. Sip my beer. I’m not gonna give him the satisfaction of answering. Mainly because I’m not entirely sure myself.
I’m on edge tonight. That kind of edge that creeps in under your skin and doesn’t have a name. I chalked it up to a long week, too much work at the shop, and not enough sleep. But the longer I sit here, the more it feels like something’s coming.
And then, like the universe is laughing in my face, the front door swings open.
Fuck.
Bri walks in like she owns the damn place.
Like Perdition is hers and we’re all just lucky to breathe the same air.
She’s in skin-tight black jeans, tall boots, and a red top that should be illegal.
Her hair’s curled, lips glossy, confidence cranked up to eleven.
And right behind her is Ansley, matching her energy like they’re about to start a fire just for the hell of it.
I don’t move, but everything in me tenses.
She knows exactly what she’s doing.
“Why did you have to mention that fucking group making trouble?” I mutter under my breath, eyes still locked on her as she and Ansley make their way toward the bar. “Now our resident troublemaker is out here looking for it.”
Rev lets out a laugh, not even pretending to be subtle. “Didn’t think she’d actually show. And dressed like that? She came to watch someone bleed.”
“She came to cause a headache,” I grumble.
He grins. “Your headache.”
I shoot him a look that would make most men shut up and find another table. Rev just smirks and sips his beer.
I watch Bri settle onto a barstool like she’s been doing this all her life, flashing that smile of hers at the bartender, her eyes scanning the room like she’s waiting for the chaos to start. And I already know, I’m gonna be the one stuck cleaning it up.
Not ten minutes after Bri gets her drink, the front doors swing open again, and in comes the goddamn college crew.
A group of eight, maybe ten, all swagger and entitlement, like they think they’re walking into some trendy club in the city instead of a biker-owned bar in the middle of nowhere.
Loud as hell. Laughing too hard at shit that ain’t funny.
The guys are wearing polos or fitted tees and the girls, well, they’re dressed like they’re on spring break and hoping to get sponsored.
I shift in my seat, jaw tight.
“Speak of the fuckin’ devil,” Rev mutters, sitting forward.
I don’t respond. My eyes go straight to Bri.
She’s still at the bar, sipping her drink, legs crossed, head tilted as she watches them file in.
She knows exactly who they are. Her expression isn’t shocked, it’s amused.
Like she’s just been handed front-row tickets to the show she came for.
Of course she’d show up the second I warned her not to.
Of course they’d roll in like this was their playground. This has bad idea written all over it.
Ansley says something, and Bri laughs, tossing her hair over one shoulder, eyes glinting under the neon.
She doesn’t look worried. She looks interested.
Like she’s hoping one of them says the wrong thing.
Starts something they can't finish. And judging by the way one of the college assholes is already eyeing her like she’s tonight’s main event, it might happen sooner than I’d like.
Rev leans in, voice low. “You wanna shut this down now or let it get interesting first?”
I finish my beer in one slow swallow, never taking my eyes off her. “I swear, if one of those little shits even breathes wrong in her direction…”
Rev grins. “You’ll kill ’em?”
“No,” I say, rising from my chair. “But I’ll give ‘em a fuckin’ education.”
I push back from the table slow, deliberate.
No rush. No need. The kind of movement that says I’m not in a hurry, but you’re about to be real sorry.
My boots hit the floor with a solid thud, and I roll the toothpick between my teeth as I stalk my way toward the bar, eyes locked on the crew of punks like I’m already picking which one’s gonna get tossed first.
Rev doesn’t follow, but I can feel his eyes on my back, probably smiling like this is the best free entertainment he's had all week.
The college crew fans out near the end of the bar, acting like they own the place, bumping into a couple locals without so much as an apology. One of the guys, tall, lean, with that clean-cut, smug-ass future frat president energy, clocks Bri and smirks.
Here we go.
He saunters toward her like he’s never had to work for anything in his life. “Hey there, honey,” he says, sliding up beside her and leaning one elbow on the bar like he rehearsed it. “You here with anyone?”
Bri doesn’t look at him right away. She takes a slow sip of her drink and glances toward him like he’s background noise. “Not really,” she says, voice sweet, innocent. The kind of tone that should come with a warning label. I swear I see a flash of amusement in her eyes.
“Oh yeah?” Frat Boy leans in closer. “Then maybe you should come hang with me and my friends. We’ve got a table over there in the corner.”
I step up behind her just in time to see his hand land on the back of her stool. Big mistake. “Hey,” I say, voice low, calm. Dangerous.
He turns, blinking up at me like he didn’t realize he just fucked around and found out. “Yeah?”
I look at his hand. Then back at him. “You can move that. Now.”
He gives a nervous little laugh. “Relax, man. We’re just talking.”
“She’s not interested,” I say, my voice going harder now, eyes narrowing. “So I’m only gonna say this once. Step back, walk away, and keep your hands to yourself while you’re still able to use ‘em.”
His eyes dart between me and Bri like he’s trying to decide if I’m bluffing.
I’m not.
Bri leans her elbow on the bar and looks at me, unbothered. “You always show up right when things are about to get fun?”
“Someone’s gotta save you from your own bad decisions,” I mutter, never looking away from Frat Boy.
“I was doing just fine,” she says, voice smug.
He finally takes the hint, hands up, backing off with a muttered, “Whatever, dude.”
Smart choice.
He slinks back to his crew, and I watch him go, jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth.
Bri turns in her seat, crossing her legs slowly, and looks up at me. “Was that necessary?”
“Just tired of watching guys who wouldn’t last five minutes in this world think they’ve got the right to put their hands on you,” I say, my voice low.
She arches a brow. “So it’s about respect?”
“It’s about you,” I snap before I can stop myself.
That catches her off guard. Just for a second. The smile falters. Her eyes flicker.
I lean in, just close enough that only she can hear me. “You keep pokin’ the bear, Bri. One of these days, he’s gonna bite.” I say, walking away before I say something I’ll really regret.
Because if I stay too long, I’m not gonna stop at a warning. I’m gonna find out exactly how far she’ll push me. And how far I’ll go to make her mine.
I stalk back to the table, my jaw tight, heart still punching against my ribs like it’s got something to prove.
Rev doesn’t say a word, just lifts his beer and watches me sit back down, smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth like he saw the whole damn thing.
Which he probably did. “Handle it?” he asks, voice low and amused.
I grunt, leaning back in my chair and grabbing my bottle. “Idiot tried to put a hand on her.”
Rev whistles under his breath. “Still got all his teeth?”
“For now.”
I take a long pull from my beer and watch the crowd, but my eyes keep drifting back to the bar.
Bri’s laughing again, brushing off the moment like it didn’t rattle her at all.
But I saw the shift, just for a second, when I told her it was about her.
When the teasing stopped and something real cut through the bullshit.
She knows I’m toeing a line I swore I wouldn’t cross. And she’s just daring me to step over it. She turns her head then, eyes catching mine across the bar like she felt me looking. There’s a spark there. A challenge. A soft little smirk that says she’s not backing down.
Goddamn. She doesn’t even have to try. Doesn’t have to dress like that or toss her hair or smile like she wants to start a fire just to watch it burn. She is the fire. Wild and sharp and bright enough to blind a man if he’s stupid enough to look too long. And I can’t stop staring.
Rev takes a swig and says, “You ever gonna admit she’s got you by the balls, or you gonna keep pretending you don’t care until someone else makes a move?”
I glare at him, but he just grins like he’s been waiting to poke this particular bruise. “Drop it,” I mutter.
“I’ll drop it when you stop lookin’ at her like she’s the only thing in the room worth bleeding for.”
I don’t answer. Because he’s not wrong. And that pisses me off more than anything else tonight.
Across the bar, Bri raises her glass to her lips, that red top glowing like a damn warning sign under the neon lights.