Page 294 of Romeo

My hand tightened against the edge of the bar.

He would never do it again.

That should have given me more satisfaction than it did.

“Cuz.”

I glanced toward Gator. He had moved away from the doorway after Devlyn took Fiona upstairs and was leaning one hip against the bar, studying me with none of the easy bullshit he normally wore like a second cut. A couple of his brothers were scattered farther down the room, giving us enough distance to pretend they weren’t listening. They were Bourbon Kings, which meant they were absolutely fucking listening.

Gator waited until I looked at him before he asked, “What the fuck are you doin’?”

There wasn’t any accusation behind it. Not really. He knew me too well for that. What I heard was the question beneath the question.

Why now?

I scrubbed a hand over my beard and looked toward the stairs again. Fiona had only been out of my sight for a minute, maybe two, and some irrational part of me already wanted to go upstairs and put eyes on her.

“She was attacked last night.”

Every trace of humor disappeared from Gator’s face. “What?”

I didn’t give him every detail. I didn’t need to. Gator understood violence well enough that I didn’t have to paint him a fucking picture. I told him Fiona closed the shop alone, and Marcus Webb was waiting behind the building. I explained how I had dealt with the bastard once already after the gas station incident and apparently hadn’t made myself clear enough.

Gator’s jaw clenched harder with every sentence.

“He get far?”

“No.” The word came out rougher than I intended. Fiona’s voice immediately filled in the rest inside my head. “I got there before he could.”

Gator held my gaze for a long moment before his eyes dropped to the Bowie sheath at my side. He didn’t have to ask how the rest of the night ended.

“Webb?”

“Dead.”

“Good.”

That was it.

No lecture. No warning about consequences. No question about whether I’d lost my fucking mind. Gator and me had spent our entire lives surrounded by men who understood there were some lines you didn’t cross unless you were ready for what waited on the other side.

I had given Marcus one chance.

He’d chosen to fuck it away.

Gator pushed away from the bar and came closer, lowering his voice. “Fi okay?”

“She will be.”

The answer tasted like bullshit even though I wanted it to be true. Physically, she was okay. Bruised shoulder. Sore wrist. Nothing that wouldn’t heal.

But I’d felt her shaking against me.

I’d heard her tell me what would have happened if I hadn’t been there.

That wasn’t something a few hours of sleep fixed.

Gator watched me long enough that I knew he heard everything behind my answer. “And that’s why you brought her here?”