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“I bet you didn’t,” Enzo says, smirking. “The boss wants a word.” Jase swallows hard, nods, and follows Enzo over to where Dante is.
“What was that all about?” I whisper, glancing back at the group.
“Fuck knows. He’s weird,” says Callie, shuddering.
“I thought you liked him?”
Emerson gasps. “He’s way too old for you.”
“You don’t have to worry, I’m not with him anymore. I just haven’t told him yet.”
A commotion from behind me gets our attention and I turn in time to see one of the men laying into Jase. “Oh shit,” I mutter, stepping back with Callie and Emerson behind me. “We should go.”
A loud bang rings out and I drop my glass. The pub falls silent and one of the men stands on a stool. “Lock the doors,” he shouts, and the doors are suddenly bolted shut with everyone inside.
“Oh my god,” Callie whispers, grabbing onto my arm in a panic. “Jase is dead.”
We all stare at Jase’s unseeing wide eyes, a pool of blood surrounding his chest. “Holy shit,” whispers Emerson, squeezing my other arm tighter. “We need to go.”
I take a steadying breath. My heart is racing so hard, I don’t know how they can’t hear it. “Let’s stay calm,” I whisper back. “Just keep quiet. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”
“He’s fucking dead,” hisses Callie. “Dead.”
“I know,” I say through gritted teeth. “But no one in here is bothered. Look around. This must be normal to them.”
Emerson suddenly lurches forward and vomits. I stare wide-eyed, hardly daring to look up because I know we now have the attention of the men standing around the dead body. “Way to stay fucking calm,” I hiss, then she begins to cry.
I look up in time to see Dante moving towards us. There’s concern in his eyes. “Get the lady some water,” he barks to no one in particular. “Are you okay?” he asks Emerson, gently rubbing her arm.
She nods, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. “Sorry, I must have drunk too much.”
He smiles, taking a glass of water from the barmaid and handing it to her to sip. “Come sit down in my corner.” He takes her hand and leads her away from Jase to a corner the opposite side of the room. We follow, and I don’t think he recognises me at all.
He points for us to all sit down in the booth, and we do. “Sorry about that,” he says, also sitting. “Things get heated sometimes.”
“Is that how you sort all your problems?” mutters Callie, and I kick her under the table. She yells out and scowls at me.
Dante doesn’t seem to mind her question. He grins. “Sometimes.” He catches my eye and recognition hits him. “Jailbait,” he says, winking. “I thought I recognised you.” He then turns to Callie. “And your name is?”
“Callie Woods.”
“Woods,” he repeats. “Any relation to Bob Woods?”
Her eyes widen slightly. “My dad.”
He gives a knowing nod. “And you?” he asks Emerson.
“Emerson Grey.”
This time, Dante looks surprised. “Frank Grey’s daughter?” She nods. We’re not surprised—everyone knows Frank. “Does he know you’re in here?” She shakes her head, and he laughs. “Nah, I bet he doesn’t.”
He whistles to get the men’s attention, and one of them rushes over. “Boss?”
“Take these lovely ladies to my place. Stay with them until I get there.”
“No, thank you,” says Emerson. “We should get home.”
Dante looks at his watch. “You have less than two minutes to get out of here before your dad turns up, and I don’t think you want me to tell Frank you were here. So, go with my friend and do what I say.”
