Page 63 of Savage Saint

No one looks my way, and that’s because fear is a beautiful thing. Opportune too.

The staff and patrons stay clear; no one speaks to me, and Genesis is too lost in her world to realize the danger that surrounds her. She’s a bit careless. Easily subduable.

She’ll learn to be aware of her surroundings. I’ll make sure of it.

For now, I watch how they order their drinks, settle deeper into their seats, and start talking about matching inmate costumes for Halloween and almost getting arrested. That makes my lips twitch; she’s too innocent to get picked up by the local police for indecency.

The waitress walks by my table then, and I hold a hand out. Immediately she stops, fidgets from nerves, but doesn’t take my card when I hold it out.

“Take it.” With a shaky hand, she does, silent as she waits for instructions. “Charge my food and whatever that table orders. Their entire bill.”

Her eyes flick toward Genesis’s table before looking back at me. Doesn’t meet my eyes; she’s set on memorizing my cut. “Of course, señor. I’ll have this back to you soon.”

No questions. Smart.

Genesis giggles, pulling my attention back to her. She’s calling her friend with the long red hair a troublemaker while one hand wraps around the tall glass the waitress brought her. She takes a sip and lets out a low, kittenish moan.

What’s in that glass has made her happy.

Her lips move, but I don’t catch the words. The woman with the deep red hair answers, and Genesis laughs again, nose scrunching slightly before taking another drink. Another pleased sound, and I find myself liking it.

That little moan. Too much.

“But brunch is on me today,” the redhead adds, her tone playfully whiny—I find it grating. Pocket Doc’s, though, is different. Sweet. Decadent. Sexy. “That should count for something.”

With a smile on her face, the server walks to their table and waits a second before letting them know their bill is paid for. Their reactions are nearly identical. All three go still, confusion marring their features, but it’s Genesis I focus on.

How her hand gripping the glass shakes for a few seconds, but she sets the glass down.

How she tenses, but doesn’t look around. There’s awareness in her now.

“What? By whom?” Red asks, her brows pulling together while the other starts to smile.

“Maybe Emilio did this? You know…to make up for earlier.”

“Tatiana, Emilio isn’t really the most⁠—”

“Katia, let me have my moment. It has to be him.”

The two go back and forth, neither noticing the way Genesis’s head turns my way—now she feels my stare—the way her lips part when those warm brown eyes meet my hazel ones. They widen at first, then narrow until I can almost hear the insult forming in that pretty little head.

I’m realizing how much I find her annoyance cute.

I lift my coffee and take a slow sip, eyes on hers. It’s gone cold, but still worth it.

Say something, Pocket Doc. I dare you.

The waitress starts to answer, but Genesis cuts her off with a forced grin. Had her friends been paying attention, they’d see the tightness around her eyes. The flush on her cheeks. “Doesn’t matter.” She turns to pick up her menu, trying to ignore me, but the stiffness in her shoulders gives her away. That, and the way she keeps glancing out of the corner of her eye. “Let’s order and enjoy. I’m not going to complain about a gift.”

My lips curl.

Just a little.

Good girl.

They order enough to feed eight people and stay for more than an hour; I don’t interrupt.

Watching is enough for now.