Page 6 of Ravaged From Fate

“Oh yes, I have.”

“And what do you think?” I ask.

“He’s very attractive,” Piper says conspiratorially, like she’s dropping me national secrets.

“In what way?”

“He’s a bit of a hunk,” she smirks. “The strong and silent type, you know?”

“Oh. Right,” I say. “And what does your husband think of him?”

Piper gasps dramatically, as if I’m insinuating something scandalous. “I am a loyally married woman, Elsa, but that doesn’t mean I can’t momentarily browse at the merchandise in the store display.”

“You are bad, Piper.”

“And when are you going to find a man, Elsa?”

I scoff at her cheeky question. “I’m too busy with work and helping Dad that I can’t even begin to worry about men,” I reply gloomily.

Piper’s eyebrows raise. “Maybe East Springs really would fall apart without you.”

The bar door swings open again. Piper turns her head to look at whoever’s entered, curious. I take another sip of my wine.

Piper goes silent.

Then she’s tugging at my sleeve. “Speaking of the new guy,” she whispers. “That’s him.”

I turn to look. I mean, come on, I have to after Piper’s dramatic introduction of the guy.

The man who’s entered the bar has a buzz cut and a beard. He’s tall and wide. Very muscular. Built like a bodybuilder, or a cartoon lumberjack. His dark eyes survey the room slowly and self-assuredly before landing on my own.

I gulp under his intense gaze.

The man breaks eye contact with me and slowly marches up to the bar with the calm confidence of a man who doesn’t allow anyone - or anything - get in his way. I doubt, with his size, anything does. And then he orders a beer without saying a word. He merely nods at Sam and then at the bottles in the fridge to indicate his preference.

“You’re right,” I say to Piper. “He’s definitely the strong and silent type.”

The man takes a seat at the bar. He seems deep into his own world. Something troubles him, or at least gives him enough to sit in a bar and think about.

A mysterious stranger in town. This’ll send the tongues waggling.

As I watch him, there’s a tap on my shoulder. I turn in my seat and look up.

It’s the gang leader. The one with the sword tattoo across his face. The one who should be playing darts on the other side of the bar.

He smiles at me, and not in a nice way. A few teeth are missing, and the rest are blackened. Behind him gather the rest of his “friends”. They’re encroaching around our booth menacingly.

“Hello pretty lady,” he snarls at me. “Fancy a drink?”

3

CASPIAN

I see the group of men approach the two women before they do. I don’t react at first, I’m merely sitting here at the bar watching a situation unfold between total strangers. For all I know, those shady-looking dudes could be friends of the girls or something. It’s not my job to leap in at the first sign of trouble. I’m not going to act first.

As I said, I’m simply watching.

I’ve made a promise to myself – a rule – since arriving in East Springs not to jump to conclusions too fast, especially when it might involve something physical. That’s how accidents happen. That’s how I ruin the reputation of a band. That’s how I blow the whole cover I’ve been building up for the last few weeks in this sleepy little town in the middle of nowhere.