Page 81

Story: Birthright

"Sam thinks they've retreated."

Joey shakes his head. "That ain't retreating. That's hunting. They're figuring you out." He reaches across the bar and grips my wrist. "You shouldn't be here alone. Let him protect you; he's the one who got you into this mess?—"

I pull my hand away. "I'm not alone. You're here."

"I'm not exactly?—"

The bell above the door chimes. Joey's eyes shift over my shoulder, his face draining of color. It tells me everything I need to know before I even turn around.

A tall man with dark hair and a signature Iron Serpent cut strolls in like he owns the place, flanked by three men with matching leather. The VP patch on his vest gleams under the bar lights. My stomach sinks.

His smile is all teeth and danger, and for a moment, I curse myself for abandoning Sam's protection.What have I gotten myself into?

"Well, look who decided to come home," he drawls, eyes locking with mine. "Costello's little pet."

"We're closed," I tell him, throat tightening.

"Door was open." He nods to his men, who spread out around the bar. "Been waiting for you to show up, sweetheart. Your boyfriend's been keeping you under tight lock and key."

Joey tries to move around the bar to be closer to me, but one of Axel's men appears, blocking his path.

"What do you want?" I try to keep my voice steady.

"Just a little chat." Axel steps closer. "About your man and his business."

I back away, but my spine hits the edge of the bar. "I don't know anything."

"Sure, you do." His smile drops, replaced with a menacing look. "Get her."

Everything happens too fast. One of the men lunges for me, his fingers digging into my arm. I scream, twisting against his grip.

"Let go of me!" I kick at his shins and scratch at his face.

The door crashes open, and I see Roman bursting in through my periphery vision.Thank God.His gun raised and pointed at the man whose hands are still on me. A shot rings out, and the man crumples to the floor.

"Olivia, run!" Roman shouts as he presses the trigger, another bullet releasing from his gun and into one of the men.

I duck behind the bar as chaos erupts. Glass shatters somewhere to my left, followed by a grunt and the sickening thud of a body hitting the floor. My hands shake as I press myself against the wooden panels, trying to make myself as small as possible.

Roman fires again, the sound deafening in the confined space. Someone screams in pain.

"You picked the wrong fucking bar," Roman snarls.

I peek over the edge of the counter. Roman stands with his back to the wall, blood streaming from a cut above his eye. One Serpent lies motionless near the door, another clutching his shoulder and moaning on the floor.

Axel charges at Roman like a bull, catching him in the midsection and slamming him against the jukebox. The glass front cracks under the impact. They grapple, trading vicious blows. Axel lands a punch that snaps Roman's head back, and I wince, calling out his name. Roman counters with an uppercut that sends blood spraying from Axel's nose, and while his opponent is distracted, he looks to me.

"Run, Olivia!" he shouts again, his voice strained as Axel wraps hands around his throat.

More Serpents enter the bar, and Roman is viciously outnumbered. One of the new men spots me and lunges across the bar. I grab the first thing my fingers find, a bottle of bourbon, and smash it across his face. He howls, glass and alcohol burning his eyes.

Joey appears behind him with a baseball bat, swinging it hard against the man's back. The crack of the impact turns my stomach. Another Serpent lurches forward, pushing Joey to the ground. His head smacks against the laminate, and his eyes drift shut.

"Joey—" I shout, running to his side.

Roman and Axel are still fighting, crashing into tables and sending chairs flying. Roman's gun skitters across the floor, stopping inches from my feet. I grab it, the metal cold and heavy in my hand.

Axel has Roman pinned now, a knife glinting in his hand as he brings it down toward Roman's chest. Roman catches his wrist, muscles straining, the blade inching closer.