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I wanted to shake the foundation beneath us, just enough to topple him from that high horse.

“I take it you’re here to help us clear out the water rats, too,” Donny continued, sipping his liquor.

“She ain’t here for the rats, brother” came Patrick’s voice from behind my shoulder. I turned slightly to find him standing with his hands in his pockets.

“Ah, Patty,” Donny shook his head, sniggering. “Tell me you didn’t bring her all the way out to the brink just so you could bend her over?”

My hands itched to slap him.

Scottie buried his fist in his mouth to quell laughter.

I looked up to find Patrick grinning, as amused as Scottie, it seemed. He placed his hands to the sticky table and leaned toward Donny. “I brought her all the way out here to bendearth, Donny,” he said. His brother’s face went immediately slack. “No need to dig your own grave. I promise Nina here can do it quicker.”

Scottie broke then, laughing so uproariously his head tipped back to the ceiling. Briggs stared at me wide-eyed.

“No shit!” Donny said simply. “You fuckin’ found one?”

“Theonlyone, Don,” Patrick corrected. “And here you are, insulting her where she sits,” Patrick resumed his seat. “You ought to apologize.” He said it casually, though there was that hint of malice in his words, making it clear that it wasn’t a mere suggestion.

“Aye. Sorry, milady,” Donny said, holding his hand out to take mine again. For the second time, he kissed my knuckles. “That was right fuckin’ rude of me.”

“Your foot’s so far down your throat, Don, it’s a wonder you don’t choke and die.” Briggs muttered.

“If only,” I said, and they all snorted, Donny included.

“Bloody hell. She’s a beauty, ain’t she? I can tell. Guess I’ve already blown me chances.”

Patrick nodded, upending yet another glass of amber liquor to his lips. “Aye,” he rasped, not looking my way. “I’m afraid she is.”

A scuffle ensued then. People crowded near the entrance called out in reproach as they were pushed aside. I caught sight of three black pointed hard hats adorned with Belavere’s emblem before a firm, slender hand grasped my upper arm, hoisting me off my chair. “Move it, girl,” came a feminine voice, Northern accented and scorched.

“Go,” Patrick said to me once, short and sharp. He and the other three men had already rounded the table, heading straight for the hard hats.

The woman who I presumed to be Patrick’s mother pulled me to the stairwell door, pushed me through, and followed after me. The door clicked shut behind us.

Tess Colson pressed her ear to the door. “Shut up,” she hissed, and I realized that I was panting.

The police had come.

“Why are they here?” I breathed, blood pounding against the drums of my ears.

Tess did not look back at me. “They live here, darlin’,” she said. “And as far as Belavere City knows, they do a stellar job of policin’ the entire province, while we pay them handsomely to do the opposite.”

“I meant, what are they doinghere?”

“If I could hear a fuckin’ thing, I might tell you,” Tess said, then opened the door until a slither of light split her in two. I crept hesitantly closer at her back and peered over her head.

The patrons had fallen into silence again. It was the ringing kind. The violent kind. The mere creak of a floorboard might incite a brawl.

Fingers squeezed around the handles of heavy pints. Bodies turned to the black steepled hats in their faded black uniforms. The police stood with long batons in their hands, glaring at a room of curled knuckles and bared teeth.

“Hello, boys,” Patrick said to them. “Got the uniforms out of your trunks for a night, eh? What’s the occasion?”

“Colson,” said the officer in front. He had sagging undereyes and a bent nose. His front teeth pleated and gave him the overall impression of a dunce. “Is your mother in?”

“She’s indisposed,” Patrick replied, even-tempered, eerily calm. “What can I do for you, Kirkby?”

“Had a man come to me door tonight, Patty. Looked like he’d been kicked in the face by a horse. The name he gave was Ferris Manly.”