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“What the fuck was that for?!”

I shake out my aching fist and spit a mouthful of blood onto the floor. “For distracting me.”

Fucking dick. If he hadn't grabbed me, I could have dodged that hit.

“You're welcome, by the way,” he mumbles, massaging his mouth. “Jesus, I think you broke my lip ring.”

I run my gaze over his thin frame, taking in the dirty hoodie hanging off his shoulders. The sight of sallow skin stretching tight over his cheekbones catches me off guard enough that I don't sense the figure looming over me until it's too late.

A meaty hand fists the collar of my vest and yanks me backward. Pain flares down my spine as I twist, ready to swing, but the sight of a butterfly knife has me freezing in place.

“Well, well,” someone drawls to my left. “You must be the reason my bar is trashed.”

I bare my teeth at some fugly-ass greaseball in a leather jacket. “You serve shit beer, motherfucker.”

Devon chokes out a laugh, but the bar owner's grin widens.

“Looks like someone needs to teach you some manners,” he says, jerking his chin to the asswipe holding me at knifepoint.

The blade presses into the underside of my jaw, kicking my heartbeat through the roof. Out of my peripheral vision, I catch Dev step forward.

“Arnie, don’t⁠—”

“Stay outta this,” the owner snaps.

I hold my breath, waiting for Devon to spit back some stinging remark, to see that cocky smirk spread over his swollen lips, but… All he does is flinch and seal his mouth shut.

What the fuck?

Movement catches my attention as a burly biker drags someone out of the crowd—a small someone.

Owen.

“Found this one trying to slip out the door,” the meathead says, shoving him forward.

“Hey!” I snap, lunging before the knife reminds me that I can’t. “Let him go, asshole!”

Owen's eyes are wide in panic as he silently begs me to fix this dumpster fire I’ve gotten us into. The blade presses harder against my jaw until it breaks skin, and warm blood trickles down my neck.

“Let him go,” I grit out again, glaring over at Arnie.

He just hums before pointing over at Devon. “Sure. You both can go. As soon as your boy here settles his debt.”

“His what?”

“Come on, man,” Dev mutters without looking at me. “I told you I’d pay. I just need a little more time.”

“That’s what you all say.” Arnie leans in, running his gaze over Dev in a way that makes my skin crawl. “But time costs money, sweetheart. You pay in cash, or you pay in other ways.”

Devon silently drops his gaze to the floor and shrinks away. His shoulders slump, chest heaving almost in defeat, and the sight pisses me the fuck off. Who the hell even is this asshole right now?

What happened to the Dev I knew from last year? The one who flirted and fucked and sucked like he didn't give a shit about anyone but himself?

“I’ll pay it,” I blurt out, just wanting to get the fuck out of here.

Arnie’s attention slides to me curiously.

I lift my chin against the knife pressing into my throat. “You heard me. Whatever he owes you, I’ll cover it.”