“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I said, parking myself right at the entrance of the restroom hallway.
“You fucking... wait a second.”
The Saint stared me up and down. I honestly didn’t feel much fear in this spot. Phoenix would have my back if needed.
But just because I didn’t feel much fear didn’t mean I thought the probability of violence was low.
“You’re a fucking Carter!” he growled. “You little midget fuck. We ought to kill you right here.”
“You say that, and yet that’s all you’ve done. You bark with no teeth.”
The Saint literally gritted his teeth in front of me, a gesture I almost laughed at.
“You want to attack me, you go right on ahead,” I said. “You might get one hit in if you’re lucky. But even if you do, you’ll be dead before you so much as raise a second fist. And your friend over there? Best-case scenario, he runs out of here alive and goes crying back to Lucius.”
“Shut your fucking trap, you little midget.”
I smirked.
“You have two choices,” I said. “Use the men’s restroom like you should and respect where you belong. Or die. No one has to get hurt. But we will kill you if you start a fight.”
The only part of this I was bluffing on was the certainty of it. If a fight started, it was a fight to kill, not a fight to keep the peace. The Saints had forfeited the right to a fight that ended in blood but not death with everything they had done since my father’s death.
Unfortunately, such fights were unpredictable.
“You’re a fucking midget piece of shit,” the Saint growled. “When we have more of us, we’re going to kill you, and it’s not going to be pleasant.”
“Go take your leak,” I said. “And then go back to your drinks. Or fight me and die. The choice is simple. Your words aren’t going to make a damn bit of difference.”
The Saint finally got the hint that I wasn’t bluffing. He turned around, went back to the bar, finished his drink, told his friend to finish his drink, and then purposefully slammed the glass on the ground.
“You live today, Carter,” the first Saint said. “You die tomorrow.”
It didn’t matter what happened tomorrow or beyond. What mattered was that of all the possible outcomes of the Saints entering this bar, a broken glass and two unpaid drinks were the best we could have hoped for.
The two Saints left a few moments later. Phoenix followed them outside to make sure that they didn’t do anything to our bikes. I heard the two of them roaring away moments later, and as soon as Phoenix came back inside, we all breathed a little bit easier.
But only for a moment.
“We need to get out of here,” I said. “If they come back with numbers, we’ll be fucked.”
“Agreed,” Phoenix said. “Jess—”
“I’m staying here.”
“Absolutely not,” Phoenix growled. “You want to let those assholes come back and ruin your bar? You think one broken glass is bad?”
“I’ve been dealing with these fuckheads for years now, Phoenix, just not at Tom’s Billiards. I know how to control them. They’re not going to do anything. They don’t know I’m dating you.”
“For now. When that changes…”
The two of them kept arguing. I trusted them to figure out their issues. I went to the bathroom door and knocked.
“The Saints are gone,” I said.
It took long enough for me to hear anything that I started walking back to Phoenix and Jess before the bathroom door opened. Lilly came out looking a little shaken but unharmed.
“They’re coming for me?”
