“Now, there’s nothing standing in our way.”
Remi meets his gaze head-on, her expression steady, defiant. “Good point.”
The noise of the room fades, and the bottle in my hand creaks from the pressure of my grip. I don’t move. Don’t speak. But my blood’s already boiling, pounding in my temples.
Sasha was a mistake, and now, I’m gonna pay the price.
Ragnor’s laugh booms through the room. “You know, I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”
Remi leans across the counter, her voice smooth, teasing. “Maybe I just wanted to make sure you’d work for it.”
Every word is deliberate. Every smile. She knows I’m watching.
Ragnor grins, leaning closer until there’s barely an inch between them. “Oh, sweetheart, I’d work for you all night if you’d let me.”
The guys at the bar howl with laughter. One of them bangs his hand on the counter, and Remi throws her head back, laughing with them. That sound, that carefree sound I used to think was mine, hits like a blade.
I drain what’s left of the whiskey, but it does nothing to dull the sharp edge of it. My hand is tight around the bottle, the glass slick in my palm. I tell myself to stay put, that she’s doing this toget a rise out of me, and I’m too old for games. Even if I did start this.
But then Ragnor reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t pull away. Just looks up at him with that soft little smile that used to be mine.
“Careful, Rags,” I call out before I can stop myself, my voice low but cutting through the noise.
Ragnor looks over his shoulder, that cocky grin faltering when he spots me. “Just catching up, brother.”
“Yeah?” I say, pushing to my feet. “I’m sure she’s got a lot to tell you.”
Tension is heavy, and the other brothers start to edge away, busying themselves.
“Word has it that she’s still unclaimed,” he says, arching a brow as he subtly reminds me of our rules.
My vision narrows. I take one step forward, then another. “She’s here to work,” I grit out.
He laughs, unfazed. “I know, brother. Me too. I’m working my arse off here. In fact, you’re ruining the vibe.”
“Yeah?” My jaw flexes. “What do you say, Remi?” I drag my eyes to hers, daring her. The room stills, and the noise dies further. “Am I ruining the vibe?”
“You’re drunk,” she says softly, refusing to meet my stare.
“Sober enough to see what’s going on.”
A heavy hand lands on my shoulder. Grizz. “Leave it,” he mutters, low but firm. “Not here.”
“How much will it pay off?” I ask, gesturing towards them. “If she screws a brother from another club, does that clear her debt faster?”
Remi goes crimson as her fingers twist around the towel she’s holding. Ragnor leans in, murmurs something against her ear, and she gives the faintest nod. Then he threads a finger through hers and leads her towards the door.
The sound of their retreating footsteps shatters whatever thin thread of control I’ve got left.
“Where the fuck are they going?” I snap, shoving Grizz’s hand away and pushing through the crowd.
The night air hits me hard as I slam through the door.
They’re by the side of the building, half-hidden by the shadows. She’s pressed against the wall, Ragnor in front of her, his hand braced above her head, confident yet assertive.
They both turn as the door bangs shut behind me.
“Is it that easy?” I sneer, the words cutting out before I can stop them.
