Chapter 27
Theo
The bar has a larger crowd than we anticipated, but it’s better this way. With a thicker crowd, it’ll be harder for anyone to pay attention to Bash. He’ll be just another face among the masses.
The nerves in my body are eating away at me from the inside out, and I think I might actually pass out. That or I’m going to hurl all my organs out at once.
Raine’s hands are still on me in my head.
Not literally, but close enough. The slow way she traced my chest like she could smooth the panic out of my skin.
The way she didn’t demand explanations I couldn’t give her, didn’t pry, didn’t turn my silence into a fight.
She just held me there, let me breathe, let me feel like I wasn’t about to come apart at the seams.
I’d walked out of her place with her warmth still clinging to me, carrying the kind of steadiness I don’t deserve.
Not because it fixed anything, but because it reminded me exactly what I’m fighting for.
Her. The life she’s trying to build. The safety she should’ve had from the start.
And if I screw this up tonight, Bash is going to keep taking.
So I pick a seat where I can see both the bar and the back hallway without looking too obvious.
My posture is as casual as I can force it, considering the way I’m dying inside.
My elbows are perched on the table, beer in front of me that I have no intention of drinking but all the intention of spilling.
It takes everything in me to keep my knee from bouncing, tucking my feet under the bar of the tall chair.
Jax moves behind the bar with his usual swagger, but his eyes are different tonight, and I’m glad to see he’s taking this seriously. He laughs with a regular, tosses a joke, and wipes down a glass like it’s any other night. His acting skills have always been Oscar-worthy, if you ask me.
Elias is nowhere in sight, exactly where he needs to be. Where he said he’d be.
When the door opens, my spine goes rigid as Bash steps inside like he owns all the alcohol, the patrons, and the very bar itself.
His mouth is carved into that smug shape that makes my teeth ache with a need to punch him.
The bruise on his cheek is still there as Jax described, fainter but still visible.
My vision blurs with anger as I picture his lips on Raine, the way he must have forced himself on her.
His bodyguard follows, as expected, broad and silent, eyes scanning the place for any threats.
He doesn’t look at anyone for too long, but he sees everything.
Meanwhile, Bash’s gaze sweeps the room, slow and satisfied, and when it lands on Jax, the corner of his lips tug tighter, contemptuous and amused.
He approaches the bar with the lazy confidence of a man who’s never been told no in a way that stuck.
Jax leans forward, snapping a smile in place. “Well, glad to see you got my invite.”
Bash’s eyes drift over him, then flick away, trying to play disinterested. “I would hardly call you texting me that I'm wrong about Raine an invite.”
“Oh? Doesn’t matter… you're here now.” Jax holds his grin, but his tone bites just the right way. “What can I get you?”
Bash taps the bar with two fingers as he answers, “Same as last time.”
Jax turns, reaching for a bottle without hesitation, “You got it,” he tosses back, pulling down a dark glass.
I watch as Jax sets the glass down with a soft thunk.
“How about a little show with your drink?” he adds brightly, grabbing what he needs.
He’s quick with his hands, sliding cups around, pouring drinks fast enough that I hardly notice him slip the drug in.
He tosses shot glasses at everyone at a rate that even I can’t keep up with which glass is drugged now.
But I know he knows, and as he watches Bash take the shot and throw it back, his mouth curves into something truly wicked.
“How is it?” Jax asks, unable to help himself. “Good stuff, huh?”
Bash shrugs, unimpressed by anything here. “I’ve had better, although the show… that’s new.”
“What can I say? I know what I’m doing,” he adds confidently.
Minutes pass, and I watch the subtle changes in Bash. His blinking slows, his gaze lingers, and there’s a slight tilt to his head that wasn’t there before, like the room shifted on him. Jax catches it too, his eyes flicking toward the back hallway.
Okay, Theo.
This is it.
It’s your turn now.
I take a deep breath, trying to pick my stomach up off the floor as I lift my beer and take a token sip.
For courage.
I stand before fear can freeze me and move closer to the guard. I keep my steps easy but just unsteady enough to sell that I’m inebriated.
My heart is pounding so fast I'm starting to sweat, but I keep walking, even when the guard’s eyes flick to me.
Jax’s voice rises, louder now. “You should thank Raine later. That bruise she gave you gives you personality.”
Bash shifts, slower than he should be. “You’re very brave,” he murmurs, the words dragging under his heavy tongue. “Bravery is expensive.”
“I can afford it,” Jax replies, gripping the edge of the countertop a little too tightly.
Bash pushes off the stool, unsteady on his feet as he forces his posture to be something intimidating, but it doesn’t work out that way. “I don’t think you understand your place.”
“Oh, I do,” Jax replies easily. “And I think you’re about to fall on your ass.”
Bash takes a step, then another, coordination off just enough to tell us it’s time. Jax moves from behind the bar like he’s just going to talk closer just as I take my last step. My foot ‘catches’, my shoulder bumps the guard, and the glass tilts, spilling cold liquid down his shirt.
I think I just froze time.
After a shocked millisecond, he looks down, then snaps his gaze to me.
“Oh my God,” I blurt, hands flying up as if I could help wipe away the wet.”I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
He steps toward me as I realize just how tall he is. “Move.”
I nod too fast, swaying. “Yeah, sorry. I’m—I’m sorry.”
He grabs my wrist, firm enough to spark pain, then shoves me back. “Stay there.”
I stumble, catching myself on the table, heart hammering, and doing my best to remember I can’t fight this guy. When I turn to look, the back door has just shut and Jax is missing from the bar.
Fuck. I need to distract him longer.
At the risk of a bodily injury, I step in front of the guard again, blocking his view for a moment longer. “Here let me help,” I offer, grabbing the nearest napkin and then dabbing it against his chest.
Those are some hard-ass muscles. If he punches me in the face, I’ll be out before I hit the floor.
He seems ready to growl at me. I can hear a rumble building in his chest. But then he takes a breath, grabs me by the wrist again and pulls me close.
“If you get in my way again, you won’t be breathing for long.
Get the fuck away from me.” He spits in my face before practically tossing me away again.
This time I hit the wall with my shoulder, pain sparking down to the tips of my fingers.
I'm not used to just taking hits without dealing some back, but for her, I'll take a thousand punches.
Thankfully, when I look behind the bar again, Jax is there, as if he was never missing. I watch as the guard stomps his way over to the countertop.
“Where is he?” he demands, lips pursed, eyes narrowed, and eyebrows practically one.
Jax just shrugs, curving his lip down. “I have no idea. Did you check the bathrooms?” he suggests, and even though I know he took Bash out the back door and to his demise, I oddly want to check the bathrooms for him.
The guard stares at him a moment longer, suspicious, and for the right reasons, but then he turns and marches toward the restrooms. The moment he’s gone, I rush over to Jax at the bar.
“Did you do it?” I ask quickly, knowing it would look suspicious if we’re seen talking.
Jax nods, eyes glued to the bathrooms, for once having the same thought as me. “Go help Elias.”
I don’t have to be told twice. I book it to the back door and exit quickly, my chest tight and my stomach doing that awful rolling thing it does when my brain realizes we’re past the point of “bad idea” and into “this will change our lives forever.”
The cool air hits the sweat on my skin and turns it clammy, and I spot Elias at the mouth of the alley with Bash slumped against him.
Elias has one arm wrapped around Bash’s waist, his other hand gripping the asshole's wrist to keep the arm slung over his shoulder from slipping. Bash’s head lolls, suit still perfect even while his body’s turned into dead weight.
I rush over and take Bash’s other side, and the two of us move him forward in sync.
“They should be here soon,” Elias murmurs, scanning the street like he’s checking for an ambulance.
Headlights sweep across the alley entrance and my pulse spikes so fast I taste bile. A black SUV pulls up so casually that my first thought is we’re busted. But then the doors fly open as masked men move in fast. There's no hesitation, no yelling, no wasted movement.
Hands grab Bash at the shoulders and under his knees, and they peel him out of our grip so cleanly I stumble from the sudden absence, my arms still braced for a weight that isn’t there anymore.
Bash disappears into the back seat and the doors slam shut. The SUV starts to roll forward when the back door of the bar flies open so hard it bangs against the brick with a metallic screech.
Jax comes out with it, thrown into the alley like a giant trash bag needing to be taken out.
He hits the pavement in a skid, scraping his palms, catching his shoulder on the ground, but he’s already pushing himself up, dusting off as if it never happened. Behind him, Bash’s bodyguard steps through the doorway.