I make it through the next hour on autopilot. Taking orders, delivering drinks, dodging eye contact with anyone who might be looking at me with too much interest. Liz checks on me twice. Jamie gives me a sympathetic pat on the shoulder during her break. Even Donna appears at one point, her severe expression softening just slightly.
"You didn't do anything wrong," she says. "Guy was out of line. Havoc handled it."
"Am I..." I swallow hard. "Am I in trouble?"
"For what? Getting harassed by a drunk?" She snorts. "No, honey. You're fine. Havoc, on the other hand, is probably getting his ass chewed out by Pope right now. But that's not your problem."
She walks away before I can ask what that means, leaving me with more questions than answers.
Why did he do it? He doesn't know me. I'm just some new waitress who dumped beer on him within an hour of meeting him. Why would he care if some drunk grabbed my hip?
More importantly… Why did watching him defend me make me feel things I haven't felt in years? Things I thought I'd buried so deep they'd never surface again?
I'm not supposed to be attracted to violence. I left Marcus's father specifically because of his violence, because I refused to let my son grow up watching his mother get shoved into walls and called worthless and have beer bottles thrown at her head when she forgot to pick up the right brand from the store.
I left because I wanted better. For Marcus, yes, but also for myself.
So why did watching Havoc lose control, watching him hurt someone because that someone touched me, make heat pool low in my belly and my thighs clench together?
"Earth to Ruby."
I blink, focusing on Liz standing in front of me at the waitress station.
"You've been staring at that empty tray for like two minutes," she says. "You sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, sorry. Just... processing."
"I bet." Liz leans against the bar, lowering her voice. "Look, I know that was intense but try not to take it personally. Havoc's... protective. Of everyone. It's just who he is."
"Protective enough to break someone's jaw?"
"When they deserve it? Yeah." She doesn't sound bothered by this. "The brothers don't put up with anyone disrespecting the staff. We're under club protection, that's part of the deal when you work here. Guys know they can't pull shit without consequences."
Club protection. Like I'm some kind of asset that needs defending.
It should bother me more than it does.
"Has he done that before?" I ask. "Gone after someone for... for touching a waitress?"
Liz hesitates, and that hesitation tells me everything. "Not like that. I mean, he's thrown guys out, sure. Banned a few. But I've never seen him hit someone that fast. Usually, he just has to look at them and they back down." She pauses. "You must have really freaked him out."
"I didn't do anything."
"Exactly. You didn't need to." Liz's expression is knowing in a way that makes me uncomfortable. "You're new, you're clearly nervous, and some asshole put his hands on you. Havoc's got a thing about protecting people who can't protect themselves. Especially women and kids."
Women and kids. Does he know about Marcus? Did someone tell him?
"I should get back to work," I mutter, loading up another round of drinks.
"Hey, Ruby?" Liz catches my arm gently. "For what it's worth? You're safe here. I know it probably doesn't feel like it right now, but the brothers... they're good people. Rough around the edges, sure, but they take care of their own. And you're one of us now."
I want to believe her. God, I want to believe that there's a place in this world where I'm safe, where Marcus is safe, where we can just exist without constantly looking over our shoulders.
But I've been disappointed too many times to trust easy promises from near-strangers.
"Thanks," I say anyway, because she's trying to be kind.
The rest of my shift passes in a blur. I avoid looking at the back of the casino where I know Havoc usually stands. I don't see him return to the floor, and I can't decide if that's a relief or a disappointment.
