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Every eye is on us, even if it’s quick glances so they don’t get caught. Drinks are dropped off instantly, we are checked on every second, and waited on hand and foot. This is the reaction the Vipers get from people—fear and awe. Like royalty.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” I murmur to Diesel as I get up. Garrett catches my hand and narrows his eyes on me, communicating without a word. “It’s right there, big guy, you can see into the door from here. I’ll be right back.” I lean down and kiss him, and I can tell I’ve surprised him when he lets go of my hand.
“Be quick, baby, or I’ll come after you,” he growls, as I pull back.
I wave that away and stroll through the crowd to the toilet, feeling every eye on me, all of them wondering who and what I am to the Vipers. I slip into the bathroom and do my business before washing my hands.
I open the door and the music hits me again. Just as I’m stepping back into the main club, a man blocks my path. He’s big, double my height, wearing an ill-fitting suit and a fake watch on his wrist. He’s trying to look richer than he is, unlike my guys, who don’t even flaunt their wealth.
The man’s eyes are glazed, so he’s high or drunk or maybe both, as he stumbles over to me. “Hey, darlin’, here’s fifty for a blowy.” He throws the cash at me.
Snorting, I roll my eyes before kicking out and slamming my heel into his crotch. He goes down with a squeal, dropping to his knees and wheezing.
“What the fuck, bitch?” he yells, as Garrett comes up behind him.
Pulling back my fist, I punched him in the face. “Finders keepers, honey.” I laugh as I pocket the notes and step over his prone, whimpering form.
“Stupid slut,” he snaps, and Garrett hears it, but so do I.
Nobody gets to insult me. Spinning, I grab my knife from my thigh and yank his greasy hair back, holding the blade to his throat. “You ever insult me again, and it will be the last thing you do. Is that understood, shit for brains?” I snap.
He freezes, the scent of alcohol wrapping around me, and I feel his body tremble.
“When I let go, you’re going to apologise. You will say, ‘I’m sorry, almighty Roxy, I’m a meat-headed idiot with a small cock,’ and then you will pay for all our drinks tonight, won’t you?”
He nods, and I laugh as I slide my blade away and step back in case he tries anything. He stumbles to his feet and turns, his face pale as he looks at me.
“Say it.” I grin, tapping the blade on my thigh.
“I-I’m sorry, almighty Roxy, I’m a meat-headed idiot with a small cock—” He stumbles, his eyes flaring in panic.
“You will pay for all our drinks,” I prompt, and he nods rapidly.
“All your drinks, so sorry,” he calls again, as I turn with a grin to see Garrett smirking at me.
“Baby, where were you even keeping that blade?” he asks, his eyes dark with hunger as he runs his gaze down my body and my extremely tight dress. Grabbing his hand, I drag it up my thigh until he feels the sheath. He groans, his eyes closing for a moment. “Shit, Rox.”
I pull away, giggling. “Don’t hurt him, I took care of it.” Keeping his hand in mine, I tug him back to the table, where Diesel is watching me with a grin.
“Little Bird, that was so hot,” he murmurs, running his eyes to my knife. “You’re using that on me later.”
Laughing, I drop into his lap, knowing Garrett needs to keep his hands free. We watch the next girl as another bottle is dropped at our table. It’s champagne. I pop the cork and take a swig, toasting the guy I threatened at the corner table with it. He nods and looks away in fear.
Just then, a bouncer stops at our table. He takes a look at me and snorts. “Get backstage, girl.” He turns to my guys. “She’s ready to see you, follow me.”
Diesel stiffens against me. Oh fuck. I throw myself harder against him before he can kill this idiot, but then Garrett’s there in a flash. He’s so quick, I didn’t even see him get up. His fists move rapidly, and then the bouncer is on his knees, his nose and lip bleeding, both busted, and Garrett is standing over him angrily.
“What did you say about her?” he snarls, his voice low and rumbling.
I watch the bouncer’s gaze widen as he realises he royally fucked up. He tries to look over at me, but Garrett steps into his path, blocking his view. “Do not look at her, ever.”
“I’m sorry, sir, I thought she was a dancer. I’m really fucking sorry,” the man rushes out. A minute ago, he was a big, burly fucker who even I would have hesitated to take down. Now he looks like a scared, little boy when faced with Garrett. “Please, please, I’m so sorry,” he begs.
“You insulted her,” Garrett grinds out, and he smashes his fist into the guy’s face again.
I sip my champagne while I watch. He kinda deserved it, plus Diesel is still trying to get up, and if he joins in, the guy will die, which wouldn’t be good.
The bouncer falls to his stomach, and he tries to crawl away, but Garrett is there, pressing his boots to the guy’s hand and stomping down. The bouncer’s scream rings out loudly. The music cuts out, and the whole club freezes. Garrett doesn’t care, they’re untouchable.
