2. Sina
It was surprisingly busy for a Monday, bodies packed tight under flickering neon light.
The crowd should’ve comforted me. Crowds meant it would be harder to be isolated by Keith if he found me.
That had been the entire point of choosing Ash Harbor, a way to hide in plain sight. And usually that steadied me.
Tonight it didn’t.
I made it three steps into the bar area before the air shifted. My foot stalled mid stride. At first, I thought my anxiety was back. But this felt… different . Awareness prickled over my skin, every fine hair lifting as something cold slid down my spine.
Someone was watching me.
I scanned the crowded bar slowly, not easily pinpointing where the unease was coming from. And I didn’t fucking like it. I guess it would be just as easy to hide from me in plain sight too.
A blessing and a curse.
I licked my suddenly dry lips as my comfort zone now felt dangerous. I hate that I couldn’t figure out who was watching me. Couldn’t catch the eyes that felt glued to me.
It’s not Keith. No way . He hadn’t found me. If I stayed careful, he never would. That was the whole reason I picked this place—public, loud, hard to corner someone without witnesses. I’d built my safety out of noise. And I wouldn’t let that change now.
“Sina!”
Danielle waved from across the bar, and I forced on the smile I’d perfected over years of pretending I was fine in a loveless marriage and headed her way.
She looked flustered, short dark hair falling into her eyes as she tucked it back.
The table she was serving was loud, drunk, entitled.
Four men. One leaned too far out of his chair and pinched her ass before high-fiving his buddy .
My teeth ground together so hard my jaw ached.
Danielle’s cheeks flushed like she’d done something wrong, tray pressed tight to her chest like a flimsy shield.
When I reached her, their attention shifted to me.
The same scumbag who touched her let his gaze drag slowly down my legs before settling on my cleavage like I was the next item on the menu.
Pig.
“Can you grab table seven? They just sat down. And maybe refill the pitcher at the pool tables?”
“I’m on it.” I looped my arm through hers and steered her toward the bar, putting distance between her and that table. “I saw what he did. You should tell Jackson. He’d kick them out.”
“No, it’s fine.” She filled a pitcher like this was just another part of the job, even though she looked rattled.
“Are you sure? Or I can take over.”
She shook her head. “I need the tips, Sin.”
She smiled, but it wasn’t convincing.
I knew she needed the money, we both did. Her cheating ex had left her locked into a lease she couldn’t afford alone. Asshole . Maybe that was why she never ratted me out to Jackson when I sabotaged Johns. Maybe she saw it like a fucked up form of justice too.
She slid the pitcher toward me. “Just take care of the pool table guys. Please .”
“If they give you more trouble, I’m telling Jack.”
“Sin, don’t. Not tonight.”
I frowned. “Why not?”
“It’s the anniversary. Three years since his brother was killed. Jackson doesn't need the added stress. ”
Jack shut the bar down at midnight every year, or so I’ve been told as I hadn't been here last year, hired a few weeks later.
“Is he still going up to the bluff?”
“I think so yeah, so please leave the jerks to me tonight? Jack doesn’t need to play my hero.”
“Fine,” I muttered, grabbing the pitcher off the bartop and turning toward the pool tables. But my feet carried me somewhere else. Straight to the asshole who thought he could put his hands on Danielle.
The four of them were too busy watching two girls grind on the dance floor to notice me at first. Hungry eyes. Slack jaws. Predators who thought the room belonged to them. I slammed the pitcher down hard enough for beer to slosh over the rim.
That got their attention.
But I paid the rest of the table no mind, zeroing in on the man who would apologize for touching Danielle or I’d personally make him regret it.
“Hey, pretty girl,” the ass-grabber said, making kissing sounds at me. He dragged his slimy gaze up my body for the second time this evening. “I’m Dean. What’s your name?”
I arched a brow. “What am I, a dog?”
Dean smirked, mistaking my tone for interest. Men like him always did.
Didn’t he realize dogs bite?
Snickers circled the table.
“Wanna be my little bitch?” his friend slurred.
I looked him over slowly. Blonde. Chiseled. Frat-boy energy.
“Hard pass. I prefer a real man. You probably don’t know how to use your micro peen properly anyway.”
I wiggled my pinky at him .
Frat Boy’s face reddened and he looked like he had something else slick to say, but his buddy cut him off with a hyena laugh.
“Damn, you’re feisty. But trust me, baby—I’m always packin’.” He grabbed his junk, grinning like he’d said something clever.
“Eww gross. Fuck off. The adults are speaking,” I said flatly, and leaned in just enough to make it personal between me and ass-grabber John.
See why I just named all scumbags John? It was just easier than learning all their names.
They were all the same anyway.
“You owe my friend an apology for grabbing her ass. That wasn’t very nice of you, John .”
They laughed again. Loud and drunk. They were seriously starting to get on my nerves.
Danielle slipped up beside me. “Sin, it’s fine—”
“Perfect timing,” I cut in. “John has something to say to you. Apologize .”
“My name’s Dean, I told you that. You stupid bitch ,” He scoffed, his eyes sliding back to Danielle. “You were practically begging for my attention. Wearing a skirt like that.”
The comment pissed me off. Without a second thought, I dumped the pitcher straight into his stupid fucking face before slamming it back down on the table.
What is it with men thinking our clothes are an invitation to be assholes?
“It’s a fucking work uniform, you piece of shit .”
That finally did it.
Chairs screeched when all four of them shot to their feet. My hand dipped into my bra and came back with my knife. The weight of it steadied me. A reminder I wasn’t helpless anymore, and I would never be again.
John wiped beer from his eyes and bared his teeth. “You crazy fucking bitch. You’ll pay for that. ”
They surged forward. One shoved the table aside. Another cracked his knuckles. They spread out, a loose semicircle, boxing me in.
“Sina,” Danielle whispered.
But I couldn’t take my eyes off the threat in front of me. Fuck . I really needed to stop putting myself in stupid situations. I lifted the blade higher. I wasn’t backing down.
Sorry Jackson. You might fire me for this one.
“What are you gonna do with that?” Frat-Boy sneered. “You gonna stab all of us?”
“If I have to.”
“Then you better hope I don’t take it from you,” John shot back, stepping closer.
“Uh… Dean ?” one of his friends muttered.
He scoffed. “What, you're scared of a five-foot-nothin’ psycho with a pocket knife?”
“No, but— Dean .”
“ What?” he snapped, finally following their stare.
He went still. They all did. That was when I felt the heat at my back. My spine went rigid. The four men in front of me paled, their gazes lifting and locking somewhere over my shoulder.
Someone had stepped up behind me, close enough that the near touch alone sent my heart rate into overdrive. I inhaled sharply, dragging in his scent without even meaning to.
Cinnamon. Motor oil.
My reaction intensified instantly. A low, deep ache bloomed in my stomach and slid downward, settling between my thighs, warm and pulsing.
What the hell?
I had never reacted to anyone like that before. Not from proximity alone .
My hands balled into fists at my sides. I gripped the knife tighter, grounding myself in the hard press of metal against my palm. Anything to steady the confusing rush of heat flooding through me.
Then the man behind me growled.
Actually fucking growled.
The vibration shot straight through my spine and stoked the pleasure higher, tightening it until my knees nearly buckled.
What. The. Fuck.
Yeah. I needed to turn around and tell this guy to back up. Or run. Or… something .
“I’d like to see you try and take that knife from her, Dean .” His deep voice promised violence.
Danielle gasped. Her hands flew to her mouth, eyes locked over my shoulder too, her face paler than usual.
“You’re—”
Her lips parted, breathing in sharp bursts.
What was she freaking out about?
“I’m just a stranger who stepped in to help. That’s all. You're safe.”
Danielle blinked. Her shoulders eased, grip loosening, confusion washing over her features as the panic faded. She nodded faintly, gaze dropping to the floor, like whatever she’d almost said no longer mattered.
My body betrayed me and leaned back—just barely. Like his words had affected me too.
That was fucking weird.
I didn’t have time to think about it before he spoke again.
“Sit.”
The men dropped into their chairs instantly at his command. Danielle too, at the table to my left. I took a step toward her, intending to take a seat. But a warm hand settled on my lower back, stopping me from moving .
“That command was not meant for you, little spitfire,” he murmured, his warm breath tickling my neck.
Dean snarled. “This is bullshit! You fucking slut, you’ll pay—”
He didn’t get to finish his threat. One second the heat was steady at my back, the next Dean’s head was being smashed into the table with a crack that cut through the entire bar. Blood splattered across the wood as his nose broke upon impact.
“Call her a slut one more time, I dare you .”
The room went silent.
Danielle sat stiff, eyes glassy at the next table. Whatever this guy said had affected her. I frowned, not liking that at all.
Finally I forced myself to look at this mystery man and couldn’t suppress the small gasp that slipped out. Even hunched over Dean, he was massive.
Broad shoulders straining worn leather, arms thick and steady like it had taken no effort at all to slam a grown man face-first into oak. He was easily a foot taller than me and wide as fuck, the kind of man who demanded attention without even trying.
He wore dark washed jeans and boots. His hair was shaved short with a five-o’clock shadow that outlined a hard jaw. Full lips set in a line that promised trouble. He looked like a biker you wouldn’t survive running into in a dark alley.
His entire presence screamed don’t fuck with me.
I should’ve been afraid. Instead, heat curled low in my stomach. Again .
Jesus Christ, Sina . You seriously need mental help if violence is turning you on. Bloom would’ve had a field day with this. Too bad tomorrow I’d be confessing it to strangers instead.
But it wasn’t just the violence. It was him .
Why had he stepped in to defend me?
No one had ever done that before .
Heat flared thick and heavy between my thighs.
He smirked, nostrils flaring. For a split second, his eyes flashed red—bright and molten. I blinked and the red I thought I’d seen vanished and in its place were the darkest brown I’d ever seen.
He tightened his grip on the back of Dean’s neck until Dean whimpered.
“Apologize.” His voice was deep. Controlled.
His gaze never left mine and I was trapped in their dark depths. Unable to look away.
“S-sorry.”
The stranger’s hand flexed again. “What was that, Dean? It’s loud in here. Speak directly to Danielle.”
Dean coughed, blood streaking his lip. “I’m sorry, Danielle.”
His gaze flicked to Danielle’s then returned to mine, giving me a second to breathe. I slid my knife back into my bra, suddenly aware of how shallow my breathing had become. Not from fear. From something hot and wild that I didn’t have the mental capacity to name at the moment.
Dark eyes pinned me again. I could drown in those eyes.
“Satisfied?” my new friend asked me.
This man was doing something to me and I couldn’t quite wrap my head around what. But my voice refused to work so I simply nodded.
“Good.”
He released Dean, patted him on the head condescendingly, and straightened to his full height, rolling his shoulders as he adjusted his leather jacket.
God damn, he was tall as hell.
His dark brown eyes held mine for another long moment.
“Stay out of trouble, little spitfire.” He winked then he broke the stare off and glanced down at Dean, who sat pale and shaking, beer-soaked hair plastered to his bloody face, one hand clamped over his nose .
“Tip your waitress,” he growled, then turned and walked away.
I gasped as the noise of the bar slammed back into me all at once. Danielle grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the bar. I let her lead me, still in a daze of my own.
“What the fuck just happened, Sin?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it.
I wasn’t sure what to say. Because seriously.
What the fuck did just happen?