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I nod toward Kimberly, who gets to work, then turn my attention back to him. “Brought a friend?”
“Your new protection,” he replies.
I’m surprised that he thinks I need protection when the only person who has ever given me a problem is him, and I hardly think one of his own crooks is going to protect me from his inappropriate advances. This must be a joke.
I raise an eyebrow, looking first at Maxim, then to Savva again. “If I wanted protection, I’d have shot you already.”
Savva laughs, but his partner is stone-faced. “Listen, Oakley, I know you think you can run a bar like this without any issue, but there are people out there who wouldn’t think twice about hurting you for a few bucks. Normally, I charge for this kind of protection, so you should thank me for bringing Maxim to you for free.”
“Why?” I ask, crossing my arms as Kimberly slides them two beers.
He shrugs. “You can’t keep making payments if you’re dead.”
I cackle dryly. “Come on, that’s it? You’re not going to admit that you’re concerned about me?”
“In the sense that I wouldn’t get paid if you were in the hospital, yes.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re a real charmer, you know that?”
He smirks. “I know.”
“That was supposed to be sarcastic.”
“Really? I hadn’t picked up on that,” he replies, his smirk widening into a cocky grin. I hate how attractive it makes him look. His flirtatious eyes are dancing all over me again, and his posture implies that he’s the one who owns the bar.
I nod to Maxim. “So, what’s he going to do? Stand there and scare off all my customers?”
Savva nudges Maxim, who takes his beer and heads to a table near the back of the room. There, he blends in with the crowd, watchful but unassuming.
“I suppose you want to get your money, then,” I say, lacing my fingers together and leaning across the bar. I raise both eyebrows at him, almost as a challenge.
He shrugs. “I have time.”
“Oh? I thought you were Mr. Busy with how late you came in tonight. I was about to start charging you interest on the payment.”
He laughs, and it’s the first one that seems like genuine amusement, rather than his usual cold, mocking chuckle. “You can’t charge interest when you’re the one who owes, unless you’d like to pay me even more, in which case, be my guest.”
The energy shifts between us, and it feels like the entire bar disappears. It’s just us now, under the colored string lights, and Savva looks more like an old friend than a new enemy. I’ve already let my guard down, but it almost seems as though he has too.
“If you have some time, let’s talk,” I say, coming around the bar and pointing to a table that’s removed from the others.
“About what?” he asks, taking his beer and pulling out a chair for me.
I sit down, and wait for him to do the same before replying. “I want to know more about Angus.”
He nods, and this time, his intentions feel better, like he might actually be willing to tell me more about him instead of pulling down my pants and spanking me in front of everyone. Though, I must admit that I’ve been thinking about it constantly since it happened. Nobody has ever dared take control of me like that before.
Savva takes a sip of his drink, froth lingering on his upper lip for a moment before he moves his tongue over it and pulls it into his mouth. I watch him closely, studying his sharp features and intense eyes. Everything about him is so exotic, so different than what I’m used to.
He’s a real man, and everyone I’ve ever dated would be instantly emasculated in his presence. They’d leave the room with their tail tucked between their legs.
“So,” he says, the vocal fry in his throat amplified by the beer. “What is it that you’d like to know about Angus?”
I sit up straighter, diving right into the questions that have been plaguing me since I realized that my mom wasn’t being completely honest with me. “You said he mentioned me. Did he ever say why he never reached out?”
Savva rubs his chin, narrowing his eyes in thought. “We didn’t talk that much, but when he did talk, it was almost always about you. He’d say something about how curious and full of life you were, but he was always talking in the past tense. Honestly, I thought you two were in contact, but now I can see how he was just pulling up memories from the past. You certainly seemed to be important to him, though. Very important.”
My heart feels warm at his affirmation that my father cared. I knew he did. There’s no way he was just a raging asshole with zero consideration for his own daughter. Most men really aren’t that way, even if they seem distant and cold.
