“Okay, let’s get one thing straight.” I use Kane’s own words. “He’s not my dad.”
Everyone freezes, glaring at me. “He’s your boyfriend?” Yaz asks.
“Fuck, no. I’m just staying at his place for a while.” I glance over my shoulder at him by the bar, nursing a pint with his eyes of steel, watching my every move. Sticking my tongue out, I give him the finger, making him unfurl his lips before he walks away through a back door.
Chlo slaps my hand down. “Don’t get him angry. I don’t want him coming over here.”
“He’s harmless enough.”
They give each other a knowing look. “I heard, he kills anyone who double crosses him and chops up the bodies with the bandsaw in his workshop,” Marcus says to Chloe, then laughs, mocking her.
“I heard he moved away and his wife died of a broken heart,” Tierney says, placing her hand on her chest. “It’s quite a tragic story.”
“Everyone knows his wife was screwing someone else, and he killed him,” Toby says.
I shake my head. “You’re all mad. He’s never even been married.” With a giggle at their ridiculous gossip, I sip on my lager, thankful that Kane added a shot of blackcurrant. “He’s kind of like an uncle if you like, or a godparent, but we’re not related.”
The place fills around us. Charlie, Marcus, and Toby finish their drinks and stand.
Toby pulls a pair of drumsticks from under the table. “Better get this show on the road.”
“Wait, you’re the band?” Charlie winks at me, Marcus kisses Chlo, and they head to the large bay window which is set up ready for them with a banner at the back saying ‘The Deadbeat Punks’ in a jagged black and red text. I should have guessed.
The room isn’t huge and all the tables are full with everyone else standing around the bar with drinks in hand. Yaz gets another round as the music plays. Charlie, the lead singer, is good. His dirty blonde hair drops in front of his face, his hands wrap around the mic while his guitar hangs to his side. It’s a mix of heavy metal and punk rock.
After two songs, the once fairly quiet room is alive. The sunset bathes the room in an atmospheric glow. Another round of drinks and a natter with the girls, and I need the loo. Yaz points to the back door and I fight through the crowd, making my way out the back, where I last saw Kane.
I step into a quieter room with a crowd of bikers and several pool tables. I squeeze past into a clearing where several guys stand around. The alcohol buzzes in my belly. Hairs prickle on the back of my neck, sensing Kane’s energy before his steely eyes penetrate my skin. A dark-haired man with Kane bends over the table and takes a shot. Another man stands behind him, lurking in the shadows. His tattooed hand scratches his unshaven jaw as he follows Kane’s gaze to me.
Glancing around for a toilet sign, a wolf whistle has me spinning on my boot heel.
“Looking for me, love?” A youngish guy in leathers says.
Before I have time to respond, there’s a loud crack as Kane snaps his pool cue in half. In a flash, he’s digging the jagged end under this guy’s chin.
The room stills. Everyone stands back, scraping their chairs and stools like nails on a chalkboard. The buzzing in my stomach turns to nausea as my blood runs cold. The two men with Kane bristle, ready to have his back.
“What the fuck, man?” the guy in leathers says.
Kane jabs the stick under his jaw, imprinting on his skin. “If you speak to her, touch her, even glance in her direction again, I’ll ruin your pretty face. You hear?”
His Adam’s apple bobs. “Got it.”
“Good.” Kane straightens the guy’s collar on his leather jacket, throws the cue in the corner, and walks around the pool table as if nothing happened. Someone throws him another cue, and he bends over to take his shot, eyeballing me with a look of authority, and my stomach clenches.
After staring at Kane for a beat too long, the toilet sign behind the pool table comes into view. The crowd parts for me as I walk through another door and up the stairs, down a long dark corridor. Finally, I’m able to breathe now away from the crowd. No wonder everyone’s afraid of him, if that’s how he behaves. I could’ve handled that creep. I’ve made it this far on my own.
I step out of the cubicle. My bones jump out of my skin. “Shit, Kane. What are you doing in here?” I huff out a breath as I step around him to reach the sink. “You know this is the women’s restroom?”
He leans against the tiled wall with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Just checking you’re all right.”
“Of course I’m all right. The only person to be afraid of here is you, lurking in the ladies’ toilets.” I turn the tap on, glaring at him through the old flecked mirror on the wall.
“You don’t need to be afraid of me. That guy needed to know you were with me. Nobody will touch you now.”
“Great. Why don’t you just add a chastity belt while you’re at it?”
“Perhaps I will.” He chuckles and it must be the alcohol, because I laugh along with him. He opens the door. “Can we go home yet?”
