Page 29 of Bullseye
Naturally, fucking Seth is the first one over to congratulate her, giving her a high-five. Smooth. But what, I’ve got a better move than a high-five? What am I going to do? Dip her backward and plant a wet one on her?
Damn. I was so lost in my thoughts about her, I didn’t even notice he was nearby, watching us. I should have known. The man really doesn’t engage with anyone except Harry and Nick when they do the books, but he’s always here. And I think he sees everything. Harry tells me he’s a nice kid, but something about him just irks me.
“Come on, gang!” Nick sounds happy, and it warms my heart. If anyone deserves some happiness, it’s him. Since Taylor died and Tess ran off with CJ, he’s been completely alone, with the sole exception of the club. Now, more than ever, we’re his family. “Beers on the house!”
With lots of whooping, hollering, and patting each other on the back, the prospects make their way inside with the members hot on their tails.
“Bullseye, you comin’?” It’s Texas.
“Be there in a sec.” Out of the corner of my eye, I spy Harry looking around. Maybe for Celia since I don't see her anywhere. I need to give him some space. Besides, I have enough woman problems of my own.
Walking into Hoppa’s Taphouse, I can feel the scowl on my face. Something’s wrong tonight. The energy is off. It’s nothing anyone else would notice, but I can feel it. Yeah, so, maybe I’m a little psychic. The guys tease me all the time about being sensitive and tuned in, but I can’t help it.
After all the years of growing up under my father’s watch, and my year spent with the Bordono family, my senses are razor-sharp. It’s like how some people can smell spring in the air… I can sense trouble.
No, it’s not going to be an attack by the Dogs, but standing here, looking at the four walls of the bar that are covered in Steel Knights emblems, helmets, darts, and pool cues—the same walls that I’ve stared at a million times before—I know something is different.
There’s going to be a seismic shift in the world tonight, and when the sun rises tomorrow,ifthe sun rises tomorrow, it’ll all be different. But no one else seems to notice. And that’s why sometimes, being me can be exceptionally lonely.
Damn, listen to me. If anyone ever heard my thoughts…
My gaze finds its way to Sen, who’s sitting at the bar. She clinks her bottle with every person here—prospect and member—toasting her victory. Good for her. She’s getting herself at least a taste of the respect she wanted. And she did it all on her own.
Just behind the bar is Nick, who’s over there beaming, acting like a proud poppa, handing beers all around, toasting with his surrogate family. Seneca glances at me, and the hairs on my arms stand on end.
Something’s not right. She’s as disconnected as I am. It’s like we’re two stickers stuck to a painting—easily peeled off and removed.
God, all I want to do is to rush to her, swoop her into my arms, throw her on the back of my bike, and take her home… but something in the way she looks at me—the way she sits stiffly and the way she holds her chin high—I know that’s not going to happen.
Frankly, it may not ever happen again. And that makes me very, very sad.
Seth, who’s standing a few men down from her, leans over and whispers something into her ear. She smiles and nods, but she tightens and leans away. She’s not engaging.
Slumping down into a chair at a table far away from the bar, I nurse my beer that’s getting warmer by the second. But right now? I don’t give a fuck. Staring at the label, I pick at it with my thumbnail, and little bits coat my palms. It’s like I’m sitting alone in a dark kingdom, and there’s a real-life moat around me. Screw this. It may be time to cut my losses and go.
No sooner do I put my bottle down than Seneca jumps down from her spot at the bar. Saying goodbye to all the guys, she walks past me on her way toward the door. Stalling and turning her beautiful head toward me, she gives me a small, sad smile before she hurries out. A noise at the bar grabs my attention, and I turn back to see Seth, polishing off his drink. He slams his empty glass onto the bar and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he hurries out, following Seneca.
Oh, hell, no.
Standing up and sliding into my jacket, I walk out as casually as I can. Yeah, I have to let her fight her own battles, but sometimes a man will only listen to another man. Hanging off to the side of the parking lot near my bike, cloaked in the darkness of a thick shadow, I watch as he approaches her.
From my hidden place on the opposite side of the door, I can’t exactly hear what they’re saying, but I can see him move in on her. He’s way too close.
He’s not touching her, but from her body language, the way she’s leaning back and holding up her hand, it’s obvious she doesn’t want him to come any closer. And yet, he does. Bastard.
Standing straight, I ready myself to pounce. Balling my hands into fists, I slow my breathing and heart rate, just so I’m on top form if I should need to fight.
“Hey.” She’s much louder now as she ducks out from under the arm he tries to put around her shoulder. “I said no way. Don’t make me hurt you.”
Damn, she’s one tough woman. Putting his hands up like the chicken shit he is, he steps closer still. Placing her hands on his chest, she pushes him back, and giving the devil her due, she moves him. Staggering back, he rights himself and then moves toward her again.
“Listen…” he seethes.
He’s loud, and as I approach, I can hear every disgusting word he says:
“I’m a full-blown member of the Steel Knights, and you’re damned lucky we’re even considering you. And that we haven’t asked anything of you. Other clubs, they pass their women prospects around for their initiations. I know you brought fucking Bullseye home last night, so maybe it’s my turn now. What do you say? Or are you just all show, Seneca Villetrio? Is that it, are you a tease?”
Reaching out, he clamps one of his sweaty, oversized mitts on her forearm, holding her there.
