“I hate to say I don’t have much to give you on that one. Also fiercely loyal. Has a code. But his past is a mystery to me, so what I can tell you is all observation.”
“That’s okay. You’ve got a keen eye.”
She straightens and does a little mock curtsy at me, shining from the praise. “You bet your ass I do.”
We both laugh, and I have to admit this is something I’ve missed so much. A girlfriend to chat with. Although I’d only ever had a few, Grant had cut them out of my life with precision when my dad handed me over to him.
But this, it seems better than what I had with the other socialite daughters. Talking about brands and price tags and men like they were a meal ticket instead of a partner.
“Sin’s a big mystery, but he’s also dangerous. Our enforcer. When someone steps out of line, he takes care of it. And he’sgot some skills, like deep military or shadow government kind of skills.”
Something that should be fear hits me, but I’m not afraid of him either. It’s funny, the rest of the men here give me that pang of fear—of unknown males who could overpower me in a second—but the three I seem to be encircled by? Not a trace of it.
“I’ve never seen him hurt a woman though. His code. I bet that’s why he’s here and not working for someone else.”
A car engine pulling into the front drive has Pixie reaching for the shotgun hanging under the bar, but she just stands with her hand on it, waiting. Car doors slam, and Judge stomps through the bar, pointing at us both.
“Stay put.”
But once he’s out the door, I round the bar and peek out the window. Pixie is right at my side, the shotgun in her hands pointed at the floor.
My stomach drops when I see the sleek, black Mercedes Benz within the haze of dust. It’s my dad and brother, climbing out of either side, smoothing out their custom-tailored suits.
Judge faces them confidently. I can’t hear what he says, but I can hear my father.
“I’m here for my daughter, and I will not leave without her.” It’s like he can see me hiding in the window, behind the curtain. Maybe he can. He’s always had eagle eyes. I meet them through the thin curtain.
Judge says something in return, and my dad bristles. The pivot of his body tells me too much.
The handful of men still here filter out to stand behind Judge, weapons drawn but not aimed at my family.
My guts are in a silent frenzy. I don’t want them to hurt my family. But I don’t want to go with them.
The anger on my father’s face when Judge brandishes the marriage license sinks my heart further. He crumples it in his hands and throws it to the dirt.
Then my brother steps forward, hands up. He says something softly, lifting his gaze toward the bar, the windows where I’m hiding. “Come on, Wren. Tell them to let me in, so I can talk to you.”
Then Robbie waits, watching for me with the hopeful look I remember from our childhood.
I hate this so much. Dad knows how hard it is for me to say no to him, but he knows it’s even harder for me to refuse my brother—the only constant good I’ve had my whole life.
I sigh and turn to Pixie.
She shakes her head, but I raise my brows at her. “Can you…?”
Sighing, resigned, Pixie steps into the doorway. “Judge.”
The man in question pivots without taking his attention away from my dad and brother.
“She’ll talk to the brother.”
We wait for his decision, my heartbeats marking each passing second before he nods, and my brother climbs the stairs to the bar’s entrance.
Pixie goes behind the bar, replacing the shotgun in its spot, but I know that one wrong move will have her pulling it on him.
We don’t have much privacy, but it’s only Pixie in here with us now. The men wait outside, and I’m grateful.
Robbie’s features morph when he sees me, disgust at the oversized vest I wear, but his eyes soften when he meets my gaze. “Wren, what are you doing?”
