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Chapter Seven
Psycho
“You make me nervous.”
“You don’t need to be nervous around of me.”
She tucks her hair behind her ear, and I’m glad she does. I like seeing her face, and all her freckles in their full glory. I’m also liking how she blurts out what she’s really thinking and feeling. It’s refreshing not having to figure it out myself.
“I think I do,” she admits quietly.
My smile turns into a smirk. She’s more perceptive than I gave her credit for. Just another thing about her that I like. Technically, she should be nervous around me; many people are. But I don’t want her to be. That’s what makes her different from everyone else in my life.
“I suppose it’s not a bad thing to have a little self-preservation.”
Her reply is lost on me when I spot two prospects walk in. What the fuck are they doing here? Though I chose this pub so I wouldn’t run into anyone, seeing them sporting their cuts and bruises, and knowing how they got them, pleases me greatly.
I wonder if Chaos knows they’re here.
Keeping my eye on them, I hear Evie ask, “Do you know them?”
Turning to her, I nod. “Yeah, you could say that.”
The lads I clocked in the pool room on my way to the bar go quiet. From personal experience, lads only go quiet when they’re assessing a potential threat. Now I’m getting pissed off, and if I’m pissed off, no one leaves happy.
I focus on Evie and zero in on her next question. “What is it you do? Your sister said you were in a motorcycle club, but I don’t quite understand what that entails.”
I’ve been expecting this question, but I’m saved from having to answer when the deep voices from the pool room and the idiots at the bar begin to rise.
Sliding around the table, I sit next to Evie to get a better view of the rest of the pub, while cutting my eyes to the prospects at the bar as I sip my beer.
I was hoping this wouldn’t happen. When Killa starts giving it to the group of lads, my patience runs out.
Evie’s nearly done with her wine, and I debate on how to play this out. She may have been in prison, but from being around her, and with what Lexi had learned about her, I don’t think she’s one who enjoys watching a fight happen before her eyes.
“Excuse me. I’m just going to get us another drink.”
She laughs nervously. “But I’m not finished with this one yet.”
Collecting our glasses, I head for the bar, never taking my eyes off the rising tension between the prospects and the lads.
“The same,” I mutter to the bartender as I lean on the bar, focusing on Killa making threats I’m pretty sure he’d deliver on, but hoping he won’t.
If this were any other night, and I wasn’t here with Evie, I’d let this shit show ride out and kick back with a beer, watching the violent entertainment.
However, I am here with Evie, and there ain’t no fucker gonna ruin my night with her. I was sort of surprised, but sort of not when Lex called and said she had paved the way for me to take Evie out, and I’m not going fuck my chance up.
“What’s the problem?” I ask, walking between the two groups of dickheads. “Because I now have a problem. You’re making it difficult for me and my friend to hold down a fucking conversation.”
“Who the fuck are you?” one of the lads spits out, taking a step closer to me.
He’s nothing but a skinny runt, his confidence fiercer than his physical appearance. He can’t be any older than eighteen or nineteen, but he’s fair game if he steps to me first.
“Take one step closer and you’ll find out,” I seethe. He doesn’t move a fucking muscle. “Come on, I fucking dare you. Come closer.”
He doesn’t. I’m the one who moves closer, never breaking eye contact. I get so close, I can see the moment the colour drains from his face. I couldn’t give a fuck about being outnumbered by seven of them. I don’t even count the prospects at my side. I don’t need my back watched, especially by them.
“Louis?”
