Page 194 of A Reign of Chromes & Shadows

He carved a path through the crowd, nudging bodies aside with subtle energetic pressure. A few people glared, until they recognised him and quickly looked away.

At the bar, two stocky men were causing a scene; yelling crude slurs at a bartender.

Elijah.

The poor man looked like he was seconds away from a breakdown, eyes darting around for security.

Rain sighed.

Fine.

He could use the distraction.

He inserted himself between the men, draping an arm around each of their shoulders.

“Now, now,” he drawled, “that’s not how we get the attention of attractive young men.”

He winked at the bartender.

Elijah sagged in relief, mouthing a grateful thank you.

“I could offer you some tips,” Rain continued, “help you step out of the closet with confidence.”

Both men shoved him off.

The smaller one slammed his fist against the bar like a tantruming toddler.

The larger one turned; revealing a face that looked like it had lost a fight with a brick wall. A ghastly jagged pink scar split his forehead, his nose was a crooked mess of old breaks, and his wiry hair barely concealed his cauliflower ears.

A man who lived for violence.

Which mean his moves would be predictable.

He lunged, grabbing Rain by the throat.

Rain could have stopped him.

Easily.

But where was the fun in that?

A thrill shot through him; sharp, electric, welcome.

Finally.

Something he could hit.

His dark mood lightened.

He was more than ready to work off some pent-up energy

“You fucking faggit.”

The thug’s rancid breath hit Rain’s face; hot, sour, and far too close. His meaty hand clamped around Rain’s throat, pinning him back against the bar with the kind of force meant to intimidate.

Rain didn’t flinch.

Instead, a slow, cocky smirk curled across his lips.