Page 1 of Blood and Thorns

Chapter 1

Arabella

I swear, if this guy touched me one more time, I was going to scream. I didn’t, obviously. Because I needed this job, and Michael was my boss’ nephew’s son twice removed, or something equally as ridiculous. He was family, apparently, and since he liked to run the bar as if everyone was one big happy family, he was off limits.

So rather than shoving him like I’d wanted, I forced my smile to look a little more threatening, which apparently translated to‘please, grope me harder.’

Suzy snickered at me from across the room, clearing up the table while I tried, and failed, to untangle myself from Michael’s greasy fingers. I shot her a pleading look, but it only made her cackle harder.

“Come on, cupcake. Just one date,” Michael crooned with a slight drunken slur. “I promise you won’t regret it. Is it the age thing? It’s what… only eight years? What’s eight years between two people wanting to get to know each other?”

But it wasn’t eight years. He must be in his late forties, which made him almost two decades older than me. Not that age mattered, but it was still a hard pass. But rejectionclearly meant little to Michael, because he’d ignored all my protests over the past few weeks since Suzy turned him down. Then there was Rachael before that. I should probably be more offended that I was the last woman in the bar he’d tried to date.

“I have a boyfriend,” I lied, finally managing to twist myself away, only for another set of hands to land on my hips, making my skin crawl.

“Fuck off, arsehole,” a familiar voice growled, and honestly, if the ground opened up and swallowed me whole, I wouldn’t even be mad.

Pulling away, I turned to find none other than my ex, his dark hair expertly styled to frame his handsome face, and those familiar blue eyes looking down at me with a glint I once loved. Now I couldn’t stand them, especially when paired with that smirk that seemed to permanently curve his lips.

“Gabriel,” I said stiffly, putting some space between us, “what are you doing here?”

“Is that how you greet your man?” he asked, reaching out to grip my wrist.

I didn’t fight because I didn’t want to make a scene, especially considering I could see my boss hovering in the corner.

Now, the bar wasn’t exactly glamorous, but with its dated décor, neon beer signs and dim lighting, it had a gritty charm that I enjoyed. Plus, the patrons usually kept to themselves, coming to enjoy a cheap drink without all the fanfare the more expensive places offered in the city. Gabriel wouldn’t usually be caught dead here and had never once bothered to come see me when we were actually dating. Which begged the question why he was here now.

“I was out buying a new watch because for some reason I can’t find mine, and I thought, why not come visit the love ofmy life?” His eyes narrowed in suspicion, even as he continued to smirk in a way that was supposed to be intimidating.

That was the problem with Gabriel: he always wanted everyone to feel smaller than he was.

I swallowed, tugging on my wrist, but his grip only tightened with a sharp chuckle. Up close I noticed his dilated pupils, which made sense with his slightly manic energy. “Are you high?”

His lips tightened into a thin line. “You’ve been avoiding me, baby.”

Disgust roiled through me. “I’m not yourbaby.”

“You left me on read.” His definitely high eyes narrowed. “And you never answer my phone calls. You’ve even blocked me on Instagram.”

“I got tired of seeing you pose with all those women.”

That glint brightened, his mouth curling into a cruel smile. “So you’ve been looking at my pictures?”

Fuck.

“No,” I lied, because of course I’d been secretly stalking his Instagram. Firstly, because I was clearly a glutton for punishment, and secondly, because it reminded me what a sleazeball he was. “It’s been three months. I thought you’d have gotten the hint by now.”

He licked his lips. “I was only posting those girls to get your attention.”

“Gabe, you’re hurting me.” His grip didn’t let up.

“I’m bored of this now. I’ve given you long enough to get over it.”

I scoffed. “Over it? Are you serious?” I finally noticed Lennon over his shoulder, his friend and colleague from the Metropolitan Police grinning with the same chaotic liveliness. Neither were in uniform, which meant they’d been out partying.

“You still reading this shit, Bella?” Lennon drawled, leaning over the bar to grab my latest book and peer at the cover.

I bristled. “I’ve told you before not to call me that.”