Page 44 of Providence

Goliath’s hand rested low on my back as he directed us back into the bar, and my cheeks flushed at the amount of knowing looks being cast our way. So we probably weren’t overly quiet. Awkward.

Goliath had no shame, he just glared at every man who looked our way until they dropped their eyes. There was a man leaning against the bar, standing out against the general blue-collar feel of the place. He had a tight black shirt on that looked tailored to him exactly, and well-fitted black pants over polished shoes with silver accents. His hair was cut professionally and his smile was wide and dead.

He sent chills down my spine. I squeezed Goliath’s fingers, but I hadn’t needed to. His eyes were already on the man, and his body was taut like a strung bow. He looked our way and applauded.

Goliath’s hand went to his gun, but two huge guys popped up from other tables, their guns out and pointing at us.

“Now friend, there is no need for that,” the man said, in vaguely accented english. The kind of small accent you got when your parents spoke a second language at home. “We are just here to speak to the owner of this fine,” he sneered the word, “establishment.”

Goliath tucked me behind him, which was sweet, and then he took an ominous step forward. “You do not belong here. This is Damnation territory. Get the fuck out of here before I repaint these dirty fucking walls with your brains.”

The man grinned, moving forwards like he was the apex predator here. I resisted the urge to scoff. “Ah, my men call you Diablo. A bit cliché in my opinion, but they say you walk into buildings and all that is left when you walk out again is Hell. That you are untouchable. But no one is untouchable, Diablo. Not even the Devil himself.”

I wanted to laugh at this guy. He had no fucking idea. But Goliath, to his credit, didn’t so much as raise an eyebrow. “This is your last warning. Leave.” His growl sent a shiver down my spine, and I wasn’t sure if it was some kind of primordial fear reflex or just pure lust. Hell, maybe it was both.

Some part of us always wanted to fuck the monsters under our beds.

The man shrugged, looking past Goliath’s shoulder at me, his dead eyes appraising me like I was an animal he wanted to hunt. My lip curled at him in disgust, and he threw back his head and laughed.

Fucking psycho. And not even the hot kind like Goliath. This guy was the type to pull out your organs just to watch you bleed.

As if he could hear my assessment of him, he smiled. “You may be untouchable, Diablo. But not everyone is, am I right?”

He waved a hand and his goons stood, their guns trained on us until they left. Goliath didn’t take his eyes off the door until their tail lights pulled out of the lot. His hand reached for mine, and he squeezed it tightly. It felt like he was anchoring himself to me, so I squeezed back. I was here.

“Let’s get out of here.,” he rumbled, throwing his card at the bartender. “Call me if he comes back.” It wasn’t a kindness. No, it was a threat.

We walked to Goliath’s bike, and I climbed on behind him. This time, I let myself melt into his spine, until I could feel the bunching of his muscles beneath my cheek as he twisted the throttle and rumbled out of the parking lot like a lazy predator. We prowled through the streets, until we were back in our part of town.

When we pulled into a familiar parking lot, my stomach growled. We’d worked up quite an appetite back at the bar. The darkness hid the sins of the diner like an aging socialite, the lights shining out of the plate glass windows far more enticing than in the daylight.

Goliath parked us under one of the few overhead lights by the door, turning to lift me off the bike. I allowed him to pick me up like a doll, because quite frankly, it turned me on.

“Come on. I said we’d have pancakes and ice cream.”

I would not laugh. I would not laugh. But good lord, Goliath on a date oscillated wildly between sexy as fuck and adorable. I wasn’t prepared for that.

He pushed open the door, the tinkling bell sounding loud in the near empty room. Becky looked up, her face lighting up at the sight of Goliath, and then crumpling again when she spotted me. Well, there goes my chances at spit free pancakes. She looked at my stomach, as if suddenly realizing I wasn’t pregnant anymore and would happily kick her ass.

“Goliath. We’ve missed you guys around here,” she said coquettishly. “How are they?”

Goliath gave her frown. “Happier than they've ever been.” He strolled past her toward the booth at the back of the diner near the kitchen doors. The same table I’d sat at with Cain and Solomon last time I was here. Goliath put his back to the wall, and I slid in opposite him. Becky came over, handing us menus. Neither of us opened them. “I’ll have a vegetarian breakfast and she’ll have a short stack with ice cream,” Goliath growled, and I raised my eyebrows.

“You aren’t vegetarian?”

“No. I just like vegetables. Its not a big fucking deal,” he muttered, but his eyes twinkled with mirth. I think he was teasing me. Maybe the Apocalypse had started already.

Becky cleared her throat. “Will that be all? Can I get you coffee, Goliath?” she purred. Honestly. This was just petty. “I'll have orange juice, thanks,” I said with overt pleasantness.

“Coffee.”

Becky scampered off, but not before staring down at Goliath like he was wrapped in bacon and gnawing on her bottom lip like this was Hannibal Lector: The Porno.

Goliath seemed completely oblivious to the obvious ‘fuck me’ cues she was giving off though, his fingers flying across his phone screen as he relayed to the guys about what went down at the bar. She was back in a second, gently placing Goliath’s coffee in front of him, and dropping my juice in front of me so hard that it sloshed a little over the rim. Then she stormed off again.

Goliath's phone vibrated in his hands and he huffed out a laugh. “What?”

He looked up at me, smiling with honest to goddamn dimples. Dimples. “Judas says to get the fuck off my phone and woo you properly. Who the hell says woo anyway?”

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