Page 12

DECLAN

Song- Vicious, Bohnes.

H er hand twitches by her thigh. She was about to go for him. And I want to know why.

“Is he bothering you?” I ask, voice low.

Scum like him deserve more than a beating, they deserve to be buried in the dirt.

“Yes,” she replies, firm.

She glares at him, picking up her drink like it’s a weapon. She holds it out to him with deliberate calm. He shakes his head.

“You wanted a drink, didn’t you? Well, this is my treat,” she tells him.

She thrusts the glass into his chest, and fuck, she’s beautiful. Even more so with that murderous look carved into her features.

She’s fire, fury, and survival in heels. And still, there’s a softness beneath the blaze, like she's terrified of anyone finding it. Especially me.

“Drink the drink.” I follow her lead, tightening my grip on his shoulders.

“I’m not thirsty,” he whispers.

She grins, slow and dangerous, and slides the straw up to his lips. He tries to bat her away, but she grabs his wrist. Hard.

“Open your mouth and drink it. Every single drop,” I order.

Her eyes flick to mine. And my heart fucking somersaults in my chest. There’s that twinkle, and it damn near undoes me.

He starts squirming, so I switch tactics, my hand sliding up to grip the back of his neck. My other discreetly unholsters my gun and presses it into his spine.

I lean in, low and cold. “Do as she says or you’ll never walk again.”

He starts shaking. Good. She shoves the straw into his mouth.

“Very good. Now drink,” she chirps, and I could swear I’ve never seen anything sexier than her in this moment.

I hold him still, gun firm in his back, grinning at her like we’re sharing a secret no one else in this place could survive. Time slows. Just her and me, smiling like maniacs.

Then the idiot starts slurping, and the spell breaks.

She sets the glass down, eyes fierce. “You can let him go. See how far he gets,” she tells me.

I conceal the weapon and let him go. He stumbles like the coward he is.

“Lightweight.”

“Hmm,” she hums, watching him with narrowed eyes.

She leans in suddenly and grabs a fistful of his greasy black hair, yanking his head back.

“Be careful out there on your own, you sick fuck.”

My brows lift. That venom in her tone? It’s real. She’s not bluffing.

She pushes him off and he crashes into a table, limbs flailing.

I step closer. I need to be near her.

“You okay?” I ask.

We sit, our eyes locking again. Electricity. No bullshit.

“Yeah.”

But her gaze is somewhere else, teeth nibbling at the edge of her nail.

“You’ve taken down two guys in one day. Pretty impressive.”

She doesn’t respond.

“And you punched me in the dick. Anyone would think you hate the male species.” I try to tease, but her walls shoot back up.

Her face sharpens. She snaps to look at me.

“The first guy tried to mug me and that one drugged my drink. Tell me, what the hell is there to like about your kind?”

I clench my fists. That’s what I didn’t want to hear, because now I want to murder the fucker.

“I’m sorry,” is all I manage to get out.

And she laughs. It’s a sound that splits through the tension and damn it, I want to hear it again. I want to hear all her sounds.

“What, on behalf of all men?” she asks between giggles.

“If that makes you happy, then yes. On behalf of the entire male population, I apologize for our scumbag behavior.”

But inside? Rage. “He drugged your drink?” I ask, already planning how I’m going to make that bastard disappear.

“Yep. I rejected him. He didn’t like that. So, he thought he could take what he wanted instead.”

There’s something hollow in her voice. Sadness, masked in steel.

“Can you give me a second?” I ask, needing to go fix this before it eats me alive.

“Sure. You want a drink?” she asks, and fuck, her voice hits me low.

“I’ll take a beer, please. Ice cold. No drug additions, please.” I grin, trying to keep it light.

“Maybe this is my chance to get my revenge against men.”

She winks, and I’m toast.

“I’ll be one minute,” I tell her, praying she doesn’t vanish when I turn around. I have a feeling she’s a runner. I have to keep her close to keep bashing down these walls.

I head straight for my table and slam my hands down.

Finn’s head snaps up.

“What’s up?” Conan asks.

“That guy, the stumbling buffoon,” I say, jerking my thumb back.

Finn glances past me and spots him.

“Yeah?”

“He just tried to drug my friend.”

Finn’s brows arch, a slow grin spreading across his face. Conan starts rubbing his hands together.

“You want us to deal with him?” Finn asks, already sliding out of the booth.

“Deal with it in a sense he will never do that again. Yes,” I say, voice cold.

“You got it, boss.”

They disappear, and I head back to her.

I don’t even know her real name. But I feel like I’ve known her forever. It’s unnerving.

She’s ordering our drinks when I get back. And when she turns to look at me? I’m fucked. That smile.

“Ice cold beer, no drugs, ordered,” she says, saluting. Then takes a seat, legs crossing like she’s doing it just to kill me.

I lick my lips before I embarrass myself. I’d get on my knees right here to worship every inch of her.

“Thank you, heartbreaker.” I wink.

“Why heartbreaker? Surely it can’t be broken that easily?” she asks, tilting her head, that little smirk playing on her lips.

“I’ve only experienced it once,” I reply as the beer slides across the bar.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says, lifting her espresso martini.

“I lost my mom. That broke my heart.”

I don’t even know why I’m telling her. It just falls out. Like the truth doesn’t want to hide from her.

She nods and sips her drink.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” she whispers, eyes flicking away.

I want to touch her. Make her look at me again.

“That it does,” I mutter, taking a long swig from the bottle.

“But it also hurt being rejected by you.”

A flicker of a smile curves her lips.

“Did it?”

I nod, pressing a hand to my chest.

“Deeply. And then you rejected me again earlier. So it’s official. You are my heartbreaker.”

My heartbreaker. Mine.

The words settle into my bloodstream and don’t leave. It makes my cock twitch.

I see the red creeping up her throat. And I remember how it felt with my hand wrapped around it.

God, I want more. No. I fucking need it.

“Well, you’ve got your drink now. Does that make up for it?” she asks, batting those thick lashes at me.

“Not even close. Have dinner with me? That might fix my broken heart.”

She pouts, nails tapping the bar like a siren’s call.

“Okay. On one condition.”

Anything.

“Let me hear it.”