Chapter 4
Wren
THE SONGBIRD
Storming back inside the bar, my pulse still hammers from the shitshow outside.
As soon as I step through the door, I head straight for the bar.
Grabbing the nearest shot glass, I pour myself a drink, tossing it back as if its the antidote to the migraine I can feel forming from the fucking audacity of those assholes out there.
Who the actual fuck do those guys think they are?
I don’t need anyone fighting my battles, and I sure as hell don’t need some massive, tattooed assholes stepping in like I’m some helpless little girl.
I can handle myself just fine. Just because Richard is some persistent little cockroach doesn’t mean I need saving.
I’ve been through enough bullshit to know I don't need a knight in shining armor to come and rescue me. I’m not some damsel in distress, not anymore.
I’ve fought my own battles and picked myself up more times than I can count and I'm damn proud of it.
And the way they both looked at me, like I was some kind of game they were already winning? I’m about two seconds away from introducing both of their faces to the pavement. We’ll see who the winner is after that.
I turn towards the back of the bar to wash some dishes, trying to distract myself from the tingling sensation of where the blonde one touched my face. His touch was so delicate despite the venom that fell from his tongue.
You don’t need anyone, Wren.
I repeat the words in my head like a mantra as I scrub a couple of shot glasses clean. My hands won’t stop shaking, my mind still wandering to the two beautiful, yet exasperating men who saved me.
Shit, they kind of did, didn’t they?
I wasn’t expecting to see Rich at all tonight, especially after I told Joe everything and he promised to keep him away.
Seeing Rich really shook something inside of me, flashbacks from the past assaulting my every sense.
The feelings that I have tried so hard to suppress since I left him that night all came bubbling back to the surface.
I promised myself I wouldn’t let a man make me feel so small again.
I learned how to be the savior in my own story.
But for the first time in my life, watching men get violent around me didn't terrify me. It made me feel invigorated. Loud noises and yelling always make me flinch and shrink away. But tonight? I couldn’t help but to pause, for even the slightest second, to watch a real man protect a woman.
Not that I would ever give them the satisfaction of knowing that.
The bar has settled back to its usual hum,the patrons too focused on their drinks to pay attention to what just happened outside.
But I know better. I can feel the weight of curious stares, the lingering buzz of gossip just waiting to be spread.
I don't know what I expected, especially working in LA. Everyone’s always on their damn phones, I wouldn't be surprised if the fight was already trending online.
And just like fucking clockwork, here comes Retta, ready to get the inside scoop.
“Oye chiquita, care to tell me what the hell just happened?” she says, swiping the shot glass out of my hand, giving me no other option but to look up at her.
I meet her eyes, and I can tell she’s pissed, but not at me. “I honestly don't know what happened, Retta. Rich basically broke in here and grabbed me as if I was his fucking property, and then these two neanderthals came out of the goddamn shadows and kicked his everloving ass.”
I’m practically panting now, having spit that out all in one breath. Retta is silent, just looking at me like I’ve gone off the rails. I mean, it sure fucking feels like it. How is this my life?
“Get it together, Mija, our shift is almost over. Let‘s just get through the next two hours and get the hell out of here, hmm?” She gives me a meek smile and heads back out to the floor. Huffing, I finish up the last glass and follow after her so I can start wiping down some tables.
I barely make it back to my spot at the bar to wash the dishes I’ve collected before I hear the door swing open behind me.
I don’t have to look up to know it’s them.
The air shifts, thickening and coiling tight like a wire stretched too thin.
Their presence is too damn arrogant to not know it’s them.
I quickly pour myself another shot and throw it back, bracing myself for round two.
They settle in, taking a seat at the bartop directly in front of me, and I swear I can feel the temperature rising inside the building. It takes everything in me not to react, to not look at them, but this is my job and unless they’re paying customers, I don’t have to deal with them.
The cocky blonde one who got way too close outside, leans in closer, his tattoos barely peeking out from the top of his shirt collar. He smirks at me, but my dumb ass is far too focused on the small sliver of inked skin to pay attention to it. “What? No thank you?”
That catches my fucking attention.
Letting out a sharp laugh, I shake my head. “For what? Ruining my night?” I look over at the other one. “Getting blood all over the floors? Or do you want a gold star for knowing how to throw a punch?”
The one that’s completely covered in tattoos—he even has them on his shaved head—and the one who actually lost his shit on Rich, grins. But it’s not the friendly kind. It’s the kind that makes your stomach flip in a way that I actually do not appreciate at all right now.
Fuck, I can’t wait to go home to my vibrator later.
“Seemed like you needed the help, little bird.”
I scoff. “It seems like you need a fucking hobby, and you can stop calling me that. I’m not your little bird. I’m not your anything.”
That makes him chuckle, and it sends a shiver right through me. Damn, how the fuck does he do that? What kind of crack is in the air right now?
“So now what? You guys just gonna loom over me all night? Haven’t you had enough?”
Buzzcut huffs out a light laugh, tilting his tattooed head. “You weren’t in the mood for company outside either, and yet, here we are.”
I roll my eyes so hard, I’m surprised they don’t get stuck back there. The blonde one is silent, sitting back and watching the exchange with a menacing smirk on his face, his eyes running down my body, undressing me.
“What's the matter Blondie, you had so much to say outside. Have you suddenly lost your ability to talk?” That makes his smirk deepen just slightly, but it’s enough to make me shiver.
“Look, it’s been a long night and quite frankly, I’m sick of all the games. So how about you guys order some drinks or you can get the fuck out.” Pointing back towards the exit, I look him dead in the eyes, his piercing sage gaze holding mine.
He cocks an eyebrow, his smirk turning into a full on grin now. “I think we’ve said enough for now, don’t you think?”
“For now? Oh great, should I be expecting a follow up?” I turn away from them and pretend to be doing literally anything else.
Working. I need to be working. Fuck Wren, get it together.
He lowers his voice, giving him a seductive edge. “That depends. Do you plan on needing rescuing again?”
I whip around so fucking fast, I practically give myself whiplash. I lean over the counter and jab a finger into his chest, ignoring how solid it feels under my touch because that is not what I should be focusing on right now.
“Listen ken doll, I don’t know what you guys think this is, but I don't need you, I don’t want you, and if you think for a second—”
The blonde one chuckles under his breath, cutting me off. “Ken doll?”
I narrow my eyes. “Yeah, you got a better name?”
He smiles, and god help me, it’s a fucking problem. “Name’s Lennox, or, I guess, you can call me Nox if you want. And this,” he says, gesturing to Buzzcut, “is my brother, Kage.”
“Brothers? Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I should have known, the way they’re both arrogant assholes, they were bound to be related.
“Step brothers, but it’s all the same to us.” Kage wiggles his eyebrows, chiming in with his witty charm.
Why was that cute? Ugh, goddamnit.
I lean back, giving them both a slow once over as though I’m sizing them up. “Well, Lennox and Kage,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm, “thanks for the unsolicited hero complex, but I don’t owe you shit.”
Lennox tilts his head, studying me as if he’s trying to pick me apart just for fun. “Never said you did, little bird.”
I stiffen at his words. Ever since the pet name my father gave me, nicknames in general always brought back bad memories. They typically make my skin crawl, but for some reason, this one doesn’t. And I think that just makes it so much worse.
I already told Kage to cut that shit out, now this one is using it too? He really is just trying to piss me off and I’m not having it. I’ve never been so fucking close to throwing a drink in someones face in my life.
Before I can fully consider the idea, Kage leans in, forearms resting on the bartop, and I lose all train of thought. His presence is so goddamn heavy, it feels like he’s wrapping himself around me without even touching me. Why does he have to be so fucking hot? It’s not fair.
“But we’re not leaving either.” He murmurs, his voice so dark and smooth, my breath hitches before I can even stop it.
Goddamnit Wren, get your shit together!
I exhale sharply, trying to make it seem as if their little act isn’t affecting me when it absolutely fucking is. “That’s cute and all, but I don’t remember inviting you to stay. In fact, I’m pretty sure I told you assholes to leave.”
Lennox smirks, dragging his tongue across his bottom lip as if he’s savoring something sweet. I can’t help but to watch the movement. Would he drag his tongue across me like that, if given the chance?
No, stop it, you horny bitch!