She was fucking stunning.
A naughty little wet dream come to life.
My beautiful woman was going to be the death of me. I could see at least a dozen men watching her as she walked away in that sinfully sexy schoolgirl getup she had on. Her pigtails bounced with every step she took, and the skirt swished back and forth, giving you just a tease of her bottom, plump perfect ass cheeks that were barely covered by that tartan plaid skirt.
I breathed in slowly and exhaled even slower.
I wasn’t sure how much I had left in me to keep my hands to myself. I rolled my head side to side, trying to release some of the tightness in my neck. I wasn’t a good man. I wasn’t a bad one, but my hands weren’t clean. I was the one in our family who did what needed to be done.
Trager liked to call me an enforcer. The skills I’d picked up as an angry teenager had moved through the years with me as I fought in all sorts of ways to help us get ahead. I didn’t need a title to know my place in our family. I’d done more than well with the investments Hollis and Trager had recommended.
I was at my usual booth with two of my four foster brothers. Trager didn’t say a word while, not shocking, Jonas’ attention was on the stage where the curvy Latina he seemed to have his eye on danced. His jaw was set as tightly as my fists. None of them bothered to say a word as we sat in the darkened corner of the club.
The moment I saw my girl was safe and sound in the back area of the club, I got up. If that guy thought he was going to get any more time with my woman, he had another think coming.
“Where are you going?” Trager asked, looking up from his phone, a bored look on his face as his green gaze met mine.
“Time for me to escort someone out,” I said without looking back at my brothers.
The five of us had been raised at the same foster home. The Porters had been a kind couple. Loving and patient, they had taken in hundreds of us into their home. They hadn’t been able to have kids of their own, but that never stopped them from loving each of us as if we had the same blood running through our veins. For whatever reason, the five of us were the ones they had decided to keep around even after we’d aged out.
They’d taught us about family and making sure we had one another’s backs. When they passed away, we’d felt the loss deepin our marrow. A junkie had come into the house, desperate for his next hit and out of his damn mind, and he’d killed them in cold blood.
A week later, we’d found him and… well, just say even my brother Hollis, the future mayor of our city and rising politician, hadn’t kept his hands clean that night.
I shook the memory away as I walked up to the asshole who was now clearly hitting on the bartender, Romy.
“Time to leave,” I said without leaving any space for argument. The guy turned, and I knew by the way his face scrunched up that he wasn’t going to listen and most definitely was going to try to argue.
“What? Why?” He swayed. I wanted to shake my head. Didn’t he know he’d committed the unforgiveable? I was showing him mercy by not killing him right there on the spot.
“You’re not allowed to touch the girls,” I said, somehow managing to keep my voice low and steady when all I wanted to do was rip the fingers that had dared touch Jade’s wrist right off the fucking guy.
“I didn’t touch her.” He pointed at Romy. “She’s all the way over there,” he added, but Romy simply stared at me. “I couldn’t even reach if I wanted to,” he kept defending himself, but I didn’t miss the way her eyes stayed on me.
I’d caught her doing that lately.
A lot.
I had a feeling that even if Jade might feel me watching, she might not have cottoned on it was me who was watching, but she definitely had. I didn’t like that. My brothers, I didn’t care. I could tell them I killed a dozen people, and they wouldn’t bat an eye. But the brunette bartender, who no matter what the day or theme of the day it was, always wore combat boots like she was ready to stomp down on someone’s balls if they even got close,was another thing. Not that I would hurt or touch a woman in anger.
“Time. To. Go,” I told him.
“But—” the dumbass started to argue, but I closed the space, my face in his while making sure my body didn’t even brush up against his.
“I said, it’s time to go,” I said once again, my tone low and menacing, just before the music died down to a low hum. “Just to be clear, I won’t say it again. If you don’t start making your way to the exit, I’ll pick you up, and they won’t find you or what’s left of you for at least eight weeks,” I promised without blinking.
“Let’s give Kitty a round of applause. Wasn’t she purr-fect, gents? Make sure to show our puurrty girl some appreciation!” the DJ called out, and the men clapped and hollered. I didn’t have to look at the stage to know that dollar bills flew in the air and landed at her feet.
“Now join me on giving our next girl some much-needed love. She’s smart, she’s gorgeous. She’s daddy’s good girl.” The DJ kept going with his introduction, and all I could think was for his sake, I hoped the old fucker who was now pale as he stared at me wouldn’t make me miss any more of my woman’s dance than I needed to.
“Fine. Fine,” he mumbled. “I’ll leave.” He put his hands up and started to walk towards the exit. My eyes didn’t move from his form as he hurried out. I turned and faced the wall of endless bottles of liquor lit up in all different colors behind the bar. The DJ called out Jade’s stage name, and I bit the inside of my cheek.
I didn’t turn around.
I’d never been at the bar when Jade hit the stage, in fear she’d see me and notice how I couldn’t tear my eyes off her. But I knew if I did, if I watched her from the lit-up area, not only would Romy confirm whatever she was coming up with in her head, but my girl would see me and know.
And I wasn’t good enough for her.
