Chapter 9 #2
I’m already in too deep. And she knows it. Problem is, once I cross that line with her, there’s no coming back. Not for me. Not for her. And if anyone thinks they’re gonna put their hands on her again? They’re not walking out of Perdition in one piece.
Rev goes quiet beside me, finally taking the hint, but I can still feel that smug energy radiating off him like he’s just waiting for round two.
I ignore it, keep my eyes on the room. I’m not looking at her again, I’m not.
I need space. Air. Something to pull me out of the mess I keep letting her drag me into with one damn look.
But then she starts dancing. Not grinding. Not putting on a show. Just that light sway, drink in hand, laughing with Ansley like the music’s hers and she doesn’t have a care in the damn world. She always moves like that. Free. Like no one’s watching, or like she wants someone to be.
And yeah, everyone’s watching. I see the way the eyes in the room shift toward her. The subtle ones. The not-so-subtle ones. The group of college kids eyeing her like they’ve forgotten I already gave their buddy a warning.
I lean forward, elbows on the table, muscles tight. I’m close to snapping already, and the night’s not even halfway over.
“Blade,” Rev says low, like he already knows.
“I see them.”
One of the girls from that crew saunters up behind Bri and bumps her arm on the way to the bar. Not hard, but hard enough. Passive-aggressive and bratty, the kind of move that comes from someone pissed she’s not the one people are staring at.
Bri doesn’t react. Not at first.
Then she turns slowly, sips her drink, and says something. I can’t hear what it is, but it’s got Ansley barking out a laugh and the girl turning red as hell before stalking off like her ego just got kicked down a flight of stairs.
God, I love that mouth on her. Too much.
One of the frat boys edges closer again, this time trying to look slick about it. I recognize him, same one I warned earlier. Guess he didn’t learn.
He leans in like he’s gonna say something smooth, but before he gets a word out, Bri shifts away, still dancing, still smiling, but it’s cold now. Controlled.
She’s warning him.
And that should be the end of it. But some people just don’t know when to quit. He reaches for her arm. And that’s when I move. I’m out of my chair before Rev even finishes his sentence. “Shit, here we go,” He mutters.
I cross the floor in long, hard strides, cutting straight through the bodies between us. The second his hand brushes her, I’m there. I grab him by the front of his shirt and slam him back against the edge of the bar, my voice low but sharp enough to cut.
“I told you once,” I growl, my face inches from his. “Touch her again and I’ll break your fuckin’ arm.”
The whole bar goes still, the music suddenly background noise to the sound of me breathing through my teeth and him trying not to piss himself.
Bri stands behind me, quietly. I don’t have to look at her to know she’s watching. To know she’s not afraid.
I don’t let go until the guy nods, fast and panicked. “Okay, okay, I got it.”
“Good.” I shove him back toward his friends. “Get the fuck out.”
He scrambles, dragging his pride behind him, and I turn to find Bri still standing there, drink in hand, completely unfazed.
She tilts her head at me. “I had it under control, you know.”
I exhale through my nose, adrenaline still humming. “Didn’t look like it.”
“You didn’t even give me a chance to light him up.”
I step closer, low voice meant for her alone. “I don’t want you having to light anyone up, Bri. I don’t want you anywhere near that kind of shit.”
Her eyes spark, chin tilting. “Maybe I like being near it.”
I lean in, close enough to feel the warmth of her breath. “Maybe that’s the problem.”
She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blink. Just stares up at me like she’s daring me to do something stupid.
And I’m one heartbeat away from doing it. From closing the distance. From forgetting why I’ve stayed away for so long. But I don’t. Not yet. I back off slowly, jaw tight, pulse hammering. “Stay close tonight,” I mutter.
She smiles, soft and wicked. “I always do.” And that right there? That’s gonna get me in all kinds of trouble.
The music kicks back up like nothing happened, but the energy in the room shifts. A little tenser. A little quieter. Like Perdition itself knows a line just got crossed and no one’s dumb enough to test it again.
I keep standing there a second longer, watching Bri as she takes another sip of her drink, completely unbothered. Unshaken. She could’ve been rattled, most would’ve been. But not her.
She’s fire in a red top, sipping vodka like it’s apple juice, and looking at me like I’m the one playing with matches.
Ansley leans over and says something to her, probably giving her shit, and Bri laughs, all light and heat and damn near knocking me out with one look.
I should walk away. I should turn around, go sit my ass back down next to Rev and pretend like none of this got under my skin.
But I don’t. I step in closer, lowering my voice just for her. “You always this reckless?” I ask.
She lifts a brow, pretending innocence. “Define reckless.”
“Walking into a bar full of bikers in that outfit. Poking frat boys after I told you to keep your nose outta trouble. Dancin’ like you don’t know what that does to people.”
Her smile goes sharp. “Oh, I know. That’s the point.”
I stare at her, trying like hell not to grab her right here in the middle of the bar and remind her exactly why this game she’s playing is dangerous, for both of us.
“You’re gonna drive me insane,” I mutter.
“Maybe that’s the point, too.”
Jesus Christ. She’s fearless. And I hate how much I like it.
“Go sit down, Bri,” I say, voice rougher than I mean it to be. “Before I forget why I’ve been keepin’ my distance.”
She leans in, close enough that her lips almost graze my ear.
“You already forgot,” she whispers, then pulls back and flashes me that wicked smile again.
“You’re just too damn stubborn to admit it.
” Then she turns on her heel and saunters off, hips swaying, boots clicking against the floor like she owns the whole damn place.
And me? I’m just standing there. Hooked. Branded. Burned.
Rev watches me approach the table again and raises an eyebrow. “Well?”
I drop down into my chair, grab my beer, and say nothing. Because I can’t. Because if I do, I’m gonna say something like she’s mine, and that’s a road I can’t come back from. But deep down? I think I already took the first step.
Rev doesn’t push. Just gives me that knowing look he’s worn since we were teenagers getting into fights over girls and whiskey, back when life was easier and our hands were clean.
He takes a long pull from his beer, eyes tracking Bri as she slips back into the crowd with Ansley, laughing like she didn’t just light a fuse in the center of my damn chest.
“You’re fucked,” he says casually, like he’s talking about the weather.
I grunt, leaning forward, elbows on the table, rubbing a hand over my jaw. “You think I don’t know that?”
He smirks. “Yeah, but I like sayin’ it out loud. Makes it real.”
I glance at him, not in the mood for his smart-ass commentary. “She’s too young.”
Rev shrugs. “So’s a grenade, but it still blows shit up.”
I snort. “Was that supposed to help?”
“Nope,” he says cheerfully, tipping his bottle toward me. “Just enjoyin’ the show.”
I don’t respond. My eyes are already on her again.
She’s at the edge of the dance floor, spinning under the colored lights, hair catching every flash like it’s made of fire.
She’s still got her drink in one hand, but she’s not drinking much.
Just watching. Always watching. Girl notices more than she lets on.
I watch her smile at Ansley, toss her head back, laugh again. But then her eyes flick my way. And land right on me. She doesn’t look away. Neither do I.
It’s like everything else falls away, the music, the people, even Rev’s mouth running next to me. All I see is her. All I feel is this pull. This aching, magnetic thing between us that’s been getting worse every time I tell myself to back off.
I can’t protect her and want her at the same time. That’s the truth.
Wanting her? It means pulling her into my world. The darkness, the violence, the blood on my hands I can’t wash off no matter how long I stand under the water.
But the second some idiot laid his hands on her tonight, I knew something in me shifted.
No matter how many times I’ve told myself she’s off-limits, too young, too sweet, too good, none of it fucking matters when I’m watching her light up a room, and every man in it starts looking at her like she’s up for grabs.
She’s not. And I think I just made that clear without even saying the words.
She holds my gaze for a second longer, then turns back to Ansley like she’s not affected at all.
But I saw the look in her eyes. She knows. She’s not just playing anymore. She’s waiting for me to stop holding back. And God help me… I’m not sure how much longer I can.