Page 2

Theo chuckled a rough sound. “Oh, brother, think you’re plenty dirty.”
He jutted his chin out toward the murky film of Twisted Moon Tavern.
My latest acquisition.
Other than this one, I owned two other bars in this small town of Moonlit Ridge, plus the club dubbed in my namesake.
All of them were nothing but a cover.
Another avenue for running Sanctum’s money through.
It wasn’t like this dive was actually going to have any sort of profitability.
I let my gaze slide out to take in the place.
A handful of old guys were at the bar, drowning their miseries, basically permanent fixtures.
A younger group of four guys were standing around at the end of it. They were barely old enough to be in this bar and were nearing the point that they needed to be cut off.
Getting rowdy and obnoxious. Starting to fumble around as their voices grew in time.
Two booths on the opposite side of Theo and I were taken, one by two women who’d been there chatting for the last hour, and another with two middle-aged couples.
But it was the one woman sitting by herself at a high-topped round table near the front who snagged my attention.
She’d been there since I’d gotten here. Her back had remained turned toward me the entire time. An elbow on the table with her head downturned and concealed as she nursed the same drink she’d been sipping all night.
A thick cascade of warm, blonde hair rolled down her slender back, and a mountain of grief weighed down her shoulders.
Found myself itching in my damned seat every time I glanced her way. Some fucking twisted thing inside me wanting to cross to her. Brush back those full locks of hair so I could get a good look at her face. Promise her that things would get better, even though I didn’t have the first clue what she was going through.
“Ah, I see the way you’re really wanting to get dirty.”
Theo’s razzing snapped my focus back to him, and I shook myself out of the stupor and pasted on a grin. “Not my type.”
He busted out a full laugh. “Bullshit. Everyone is your type.”
Okay, fine. I wasn’t one to typically deny myself pleasure.
But I was pretty sure this girl wasn’t out looking for a good time, and I wasn’t the kind of prick who preyed on that.
But apparently that basic human decency wasn’t extended by everyone because one of the assholes who’d been loitering at the bar went sauntering her way, all cocky sleaze, encouraged by the three other dickbags who were hooting vulgarities in their direction.
Rage fisted my stomach, rising up from the chaos that lived inside me. For the most part, I could contain it until the moments when I was able to set it free.
When I unleashed it on the most perverted of society.
I tried to tamp it then. Get it under lock and key because it wasn’t any of my business if this douche attempted to hit on this girl. None of my business if she packed up her things and walked out the door with him, though there was something about her that left me confident she would tell this idiot exactly where to shove it.
Still, I clutched my tumbler like it might keep me rooted as I watched him waltz right up to her and lean in close to her ear.
I saw her flinch, her back going rigid as he got in her personal space.
My teeth ground with restraint.
She shook her head and shifted farther away from him, and I almost sank back with relief until he reached out with a giant mitt and took her by the elbow.
And that was the moment it completely became my business.