Page 27

Dante

I lean against the bar at Sinner’s Notch, my whiskey glass sweating in my hand. Malik’s sitting beside me, staring at the same tequila shot for the last fifteen minutes, a faint grin curling his lips. He’s a little less crazy looking now, after a thorough shower, and normal clothes that don’t involve a hoodie but his vibe screams trouble, like he’s replaying every second of fucking her mid-kill. Ronan’s behind the bar, wiping off a glass as his eyes flick to Malik, then to me, his brow furrowing. “What the fuck is wrong with him?”

I take a sip of whiskey, the burn down the back of my throat bringing me back to the present. I glance over at Malik, who’s oblivious to the conversation, his fingers twitching near his knife. “He fucked his obsession tonight.”

Ronan pauses as he raises an eyebrow. “She still alive?”

A fair question with Malik’s unhinged ass. “Yeah, which is why he’s so fucking obsessed.”

Ronan frowns, his eyes narrowing as he sets the glass down. “Wait, his obsession’s Sparrow, right? Selene?”

I smirk, leaning back on the stool. “Glad you put that together. Congratulations. Would you like a gold star?”

He throws me a middle finger before lunging across the counter and grabbing Malik by the neck. “Did you fucking hurt her, you sick prick?” he growls, his voice loud enough to turn a few heads.

Malik squeals, his hand darting to his knife, the blade flashing as he presses it against Ronan’s throat. A feral grin spreads across his face, his teeth bared in an expression I’d never want turned on myself. “I’d never hurt my sparrow,” he hisses. “She liked it. I asked first. She was very pretty when she bled. I have a picture.”

He fumbles for his phone with his free hand, and my eyes widen at the thought of him showing that in a bar like this. “I told you to delete that bullshit,” I snap, reaching for his arm, but he pulls away, the knife still at Ronan’s neck. Ronan lets go and steps back, raising his hands in surrender.

“What the fuck is going on?” Ronan asks, glancing between us.

I rub a hand down my face, the whiskey souring in my gut. “I’m a little worried for Selene,” I admit, keeping my voice low enough so that the surrounding patrons won’t hear us. “We checked on her earlier and Malik tried some shit then. She stabbed him.”

Ronan’s jaw drops, his gaze flicking to Malik, who’s back to staring at his tequila. “How is any of that consensual?”

I knock back the rest of my whiskey, the glass hitting the bar with a thud. “I’m pretty sure you did some freaky shit with her when you fucked her too,” I say, pointing at him. “Selene likes it. She’d let you know if she didn’t. Trust me, she’s not shy.”

Ronan shakes his head, muttering something about crazy, and pours me another shot as my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, my heart dropping into my stomach at Selene’s text.

Come get your fucking brother.

Frowning, I look up at Ronan. “Was Harley here earlier?”

“Yeah, he was sobbing over something, drunk as hell. Why?”

I curse under my breath and pocket the phone. “Because I think Selene just found out Harley’s my brother. How else would she know that unless he said something?” Jesus Christ, a drunk Harley is never a good one and he’s been talking nonstop about making Selene see that they have something together. And while I know she can handle herself, I know for a fact that cleaning up a kill is no easy feat.

If Harley sees something…

“Yeah, I think we have some place to be.”

Ronan snorts, pointing to Malik. “You’re really going to take his crazy ass over there?”

“I can either leave him with you or take him with me. If I leave him at home, he’s going to find something to break, possibly a person. Or, you can have him.”

Ronan shakes his head furiously, grabbing another glass to wipe off. “Yeah, fuck that. He terrifies my customers. Go check on your girl.”

“Our girl,” Malik corrects as he slides off the stool and heads toward the entrance. I just nod, not wanting to get into that. There’s no doubt in my mind that Ronan is going to end up being a regular in her bed. It might take a little more time because he’s an actual gentleman when it comes to women, but it’s going to happen, nonetheless.

The ride to Selene’s house is silent but the moment we pull into the apartment complex’s parking lot, Malik is out the door. I was going to tell him to stay in the fucking car but I can see now that he needs to see she’s okay. Rushing up the stairs, I get there just in enough time to keep him from knocking and press a hand to his chest, ready to berate him.

“If Harley hurt my sparrow…”

“Back off, Malik,” I growl, pushing him a step away from Selene’s door. “Harley’s a police officer. We don’t hurt them, we don’t taunt them, we don’t torture them.” He tries to struggle forward so I roughly grab his chin and pull him close, our lips a breath apart, his breath hot against my face. “Listen to me, babe. Harley’s not the target, today or ever. Selene’s the one you protect, your pretty sparrow, right? All I want is for you to protect her. I’ve got Harley.”

His eyes soften as he nods, the angelic expression on his face weirding me out. “I can do that. I’ll always protect her.”

I press a soft kiss to his lips. “I know you will, babe.” Releasing him, I pull my lockpick from my pocket and work the door, the tumblers clicking as Malik hovers beside me. When the door swings open, I see Selene, pressed against the wall, her robe loose around her shoulders, Harley looming over her as he shouts in her face.

It takes him a few minutes to realize her attention has shifted and then he turns, spotting me and Malik. “Why the fuck would you call him?”

“Because you wouldn’t leave,” I say, stepping inside and shutting the door behind me after Malik pushes past. “And I’m the only other person you listen to.”

Selene’s eyes dart between me and Malik, my woman trying to understand why I’m as calm as I am. When I offer her a small smile, it’s like she just understands that I know. I’m not sure how but her eyes widen with the realization. Malik moves toward them and pulls Selene away from the wall. He drags her into the kitchen, a snarl on his pretty lips before he cradles Selene’s cheek in his hand. “I got you, Sparrow,” he murmurs. “He can’t hurt you.”

And now she knows that connection too.

She throws me a murderous look but that’s the least of my problems.

Harley growls in frustration as I step up to him. “She didn’t need to fucking call you,” he slurs, his breath reeking of bourbon. “I was just asking questions, because things don’t make sense.”

“And cornering her while you’re drunk is the way to do it? Harley, you’ve been trying to get in her pants since you split, but that doesn’t give you the right to be an asshole.”

He swings at me, a sloppy punch aimed at my jaw, and I easily dodge, grabbing his wrist and twisting it behind his back. “Well, this is going to be fun.” I shove him toward the couch, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to sit him down, but he’s already struggling, his cop instincts kicking in despite the booze.