Hate it, hate him. And everyone like him.
I don’t even bother hating most people because I can’t. No leg to fucking stand on, no morals to be high and mighty about. But for the one fucking principle I do have, then it’s Hook, and people like Hook—menlike Hook, if you can even call scum like that a man—that piss all over it.
You want to fuck for money, fine. It’s a good living. Youdon’twant to? Then don’t. Don’t make anyone else do it. Don’t fracture their cheekbones, don’t get them hooked on junk and lock up the supply, don’tbrand them with a fucking tattoolike they’re your fucking property.
“He’s fucking sick.”
It’s not until the words come out of my mouth that I realize I’ve actually said what I’m thinking out loud. For once.
When I look up, Treasure’s face is soft.
“Blue—”
No. I stare back down and don’t say anything. Count the flecks in the bar surface.
“Look,” Treasure says after a moment. Enough edge back in her voice that I can lift my head again. “I know your boy Pan gets off on flirting with danger. Among other things. And I know you’re most concerned with where you’re going to stick your dick next—save it,” she adds, when I open my mouth. And I close it, because fair enough. “But?” I prompt.
“But.” Treasure inhales, exhales. “All I know is, I’ve seen what Hook does to his girls—“his” girls”—she draws air quotes. “And if that’s how bad he treats people who are making him money…well, I don’t want to know what he’d do to whoever’scostinghim, you feel me?”
I do.
“So maybe Pan should take things a little seriously for once, is all I’m saying,” she finishes. “Grow up and take some responsibility.Especiallywith that little girl around?—”
Fuck. That?—
I’d almost forgotten.
Almost.
I fold my arms and cut Treasure off. “Sapphire working tonight?”
Treasure gives the tiniest sigh. But before she can answer?—
“Here you go.” Diamond nearly trips over Treasure to set the new glass in front of me. “I’m…so sorry about that.”
I ignore her, still staring at Treasure.
“Sapph’s around.” Treasure sidesteps to the register, tapping the point-of-sale screen awake and not meeting my eyes. “Didn’t take you for a second-date kind of guy, Blue.”
I’m not even a first-date kind of guy. “I have her money.”
Treasure stops. Looks at me a moment. Two. “Ah.”
She taps in my order to the POS.
“Is your drink okay?” Diamond’s voice has a tiny waver to it.
I take a sip. It’s fine. “How old are you?” I ask her.
“Old enough to bartend,” Treasure calls over her shoulder, retreating to the other end of the bar. “I’m legal as hell on that front.”
I don’t care. I’m not a cop. I keep my eyes on Diamond, waiting.
“Eighteen,” Diamond says. “My birthday was in March.”
I’ll believe it. I sip the whiskey again, set it down, reach out my hand. “Phone.”
Diamond blinks rapidly. “Sorry?”
