Page List

Font Size:

There are a couple of cars here already, so I take that as my invite inside and push through the main door.

The bar is deserted and thankfully, the lighting is low as if it’s evening. The only main difference, aside from the lack of scumbags is that it smells like cleaning products, not alcohol and sex.

With no one behind the bar, I invite myself behind it and reach for one of the expensive bottles of whisky that Dad keeps on the top shelf to show off.

Cunt.

Twisting the cap, I throw it across the deserted bar and listen as it clatters against whatever it hits and finally bounces to a stop on the polished concrete floor.

I take myself to the booth in the shadows where I watched Peyton on her shift Sunday when those men stripped her bare with their eyes all night.

They're not here, yet my fist curls as I picture slamming it into each of their noses.

I'm almost halfway down the bottle before a door slams and footsteps echo across the room.

"Hello?" a familiar voice calls, clearly sensing that there's someone here. "We're not open yet."

"Don't need you to be open. Actually, I prefer it not to be."

"Luca? Fucking hell, man," he says, coming closer and finally finding me cloaked in darkness.

I tilt the bottle in his direction before lifting it to my lips once again.

"Where'd you—" He looks over his shoulder at the bar and stops mid-question, I assumed at finding the empty spot on the shelf. "Right."

He exhales in frustration before sliding into the booth in front of me.

"What the hell is going on, Luc?" He rests forward on his elbows and levels me with a look that tells me I'm not getting out of this easily.

Bry and I aren't exactly friends. Or maybe we are, I have no idea. But since I convinced security to let me in here before I was officially allowed, we've hung out and chatted. I don't know all that much about him, but it's nice to have someone away from the team and the pressure of all of that.

"Sit there silently all you like, but I know this involves Peyton and you can bet your ass that I'm going to do whatever I can to protect her. Me and you might have known each other longer, but that girl needs as much support as she can get."

"Fucking hell, Bry. You don't need to guilt-trip me. I fucked up, I know I fucked up. Okay?"

"You’re here getting drunk on a Sunday afternoon with whisky you've stolen from my bar and not with her, apologizing for whatever it is you've fucked up, so no, it's not okay."

"Fair enough." I think for a minute. "Peyton and I, we go way back."

"Yeah, I got that. I'm also assuming that you were the one to screw it all up."

"Good to know where your allegiances lay, Bry."

"She's hurting, Luc. She's desperate. Why the hell do you think she's working in a place like this? She doesn't belong here and you know it."

"Fucking right, I do. And I need to get her the fuck away before she realizes who her boss really is." A shudder rips through me at the thought of her being anywhere near my dad. It was bad enough last week after he suddenly showed up in town. But now, now that I know the truth. I don't want her anywhere near him.

"Why, what—" I pin him with a look that shuts him the fuck up instantly. "Oookay. Look, she needs the money. You can't just get her the sack and think it'll make everything okay."

"I know. Why do you think she's still here?"

"She's back in tomorrow night, and your father has already been in this weekend. If you want her out and away from him, then you need to act fast, man."

I nod, appreciating that his loyalty seems to be first with Peyton, and then me over my cunt of a father.

"I know."

"And getting wasted here isn't going to help. Especially once Helena turns up and decides to make you her little toy tonight."