Rose was about five feet away from me. Two of the Saints hovered near her, with one forcefully grabbing her arm. Two were near the back, their hands going straight to their hip pockets at the sight of the three of us. Jess, the bartender of the night, was as far away from everything as possible, the only thing she really could do without getting herself killed.
“Reaper scum,” one of the Saints closest to Rose said. “Don’t you have some party of yours to attend to?”
Shit. Rat told them that too?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lane said. “She’s a friend of ours. She’s coming home with us.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” the man grabbing Rose said. “We’re going to show her a good time, and she’s already looking forward to coming home with us. Isn’t that right, sweetie?”
“My name is not sweetie,” Rose said, yanking her arm away.
But the other man put his arm around Rose’s waist. I stepped forward. Lane had to prevent me from moving forward. And let’s just say it was a damn good thing that he did.
Because at that moment, out of the bathroom, none other than Lucius Sartor, the founder of the Fallen Saints, emerged. He had on the same wicked smile that seemed permanently etched on his face, but as soon as he saw the three of us, a scowl replaced it. Everyone at the bar, from Jess to the other Fallen Saints to even Rose, picked up on this shift in temperament and stepped back. Patriot and Lane flanked me.
If ever there was a night that Brewskis would burn to the ground, this was it.
“How unexpected,” Lucius said, walking very slowly. Though some tunes played in the background, the noise was always soft, and it was so much so now that it was as if Lucius was speaking in silence. “I take my friends here on a night when I know no Reapers will show up, and the black Prince Charming has arrived.”
“Watch your tongue, Lucius,” I warned.
All it took was one racial crack for me to lose my cool. Truth be told, I was itching for an excuse to shoot him dead. I’d be dead in a matter of seconds as well, but at least the Fallen Saints would be gone too.
You know they wouldn’t. Ideologies don’t die.
“No? My n… ear and dear friend?” he said, taunting me with the idea that he might drop the worst word “accidentally.” “I don’t think so. I have never watched my tongue in my life, and it has not cost me anything. Perhaps you are aware of what might happen if you try and play hero here.”
“We’re here for Rose,” I said.
“Ah, that’s her name,” Lucius said, that fucking annoying smirk returning. “Yes, such a fine and gentlemanly move by a man who considers himself a Reaper. That’s so generous. Tell me, Rose, does this… this man value you? Does he love you? Or are you one of his girls that he has said he would call back but never does? Are you one of the girls that thinks you mean something to him, only to realize that his actions suggest he sees you as nothing more than a piece of meat?”
God, I really hoped Rose had the same level of awareness about Lucius as we did. I could see fear etched on her face, but from a certain point of view, Lucius wasn’t wrong.
“I know this man better than anyone in this room,” Rose said. “He and I go back years. He might act tough and gruff, but I know he cares for me. I know he loves me.”
I really fucking hated that what Rose was saying felt as much like a harsh unearthing of the truth as it did a way to get out of a violent, dangerous situation. I really hated that I couldn’t call her out for it right now, either, not without putting our lives in peril.
“Ah, so a lover’s quarrel has brought you here. Perhaps you thought you would meet real men who treated you right.”
Lucius gave a throaty, evil laugh. It was in control, too much in control. His laugh haunted us and taunted us whenever a strike came.
“Truth be told, we do have you outnumbered, and there would be nothing more rewarding than to kill all of you here right now,” Lucius said. “But I suppose that you have some of your, ahem, homies from Comptom coming to help out these days, and I would like at some point to not have to worry if I will be the victim of an interracial hate crime.”
God, how I wanted to rip Lucius’ guts out and kill him. How fucking evil and crass he was.
“Very well,” he said. “I will allow her to leave. Consider it a gift of my kindness.”
It’s a gift of nothing.
“But be warned,” Lucius said, this time looking at Rose. “Do not come here again with the intent of toying with my men. If you do so again, I will not be so generous.”
I didn’t wait to hear anything else. I went over, took Rose by the arm—a little more forcefully than I normally might have, but the situation dictated I seize her—and led her outside. Patriot and Lane were right behind me.
“We gotta get back to the club and warn everybody,” Lane said, urgency in his voice.
Rose was silent, trying to keep up with me. I was taking her to my bike, taking her home, and then heading back to the club. And I was going to make sure that Rose did not do anything that would ever put her within a mile of this shithole.
“The only reason he let us go was so he could order a strike on our base,” he said. “We gotta go.”
