Page 51 of Skin Deep

Maybe that was the sort of thing boyfriends were supposed to do, but it was new to me. I never would have let anyone before him treat me like a wounded creature, but I liked it when he worried over me. It made me feelseen.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice oddly strained. “He does.”

“Good,” said Shepherd, putting a fresh cup of coffee in front of me. “See that he continues to be good to you. I would hate to have to deprive children of their father.”

“Stoplookingatyourphone,” Xander said. “You’re missing the best act of the night.”

I looked up from a long chain of texts with Pax, barely sparing the blonde working the pole a glance before turning back to my phone. “Fake.”

“Bro.” Xander made a face and pushed my phone down. “Seriously? How can you tell with a glance?”

I arched an eyebrow. “I’m a plastic surgeon. I know a boob job when I see one. I’ve certainly done enough.”

“Would you let me enjoy this? Please, War. Just this one fuckin’ thing.”

I frowned and put my phone face down on the table. “What’s so great about boobs anyway? I don’t get it.”

“One word,” he said, looping an arm around my shoulders and gesturing widely to the stage. “Motorboating.”

I shoved him off. “Yeah, but you can do that with ass too.”

“True, but I like to keep my options open,” he said with a shrug. He crossed one leg over the other and leaned back, sipping whatever watered down pink drink he’d ordered with his fake ID.

I frowned, taking in my brother’s attire. I’d told him to dress for a seedy strip joint. Apparently, he didn’t get the message and decided to go full schoolgirl with his look. Not only was he wearing a ridiculous amount of makeup, but he’d donned a knee-length white pleated skirt, thigh high stockings, and a thin sweater vest over a light blue button-up. He’d already been called ma’am more than once and hadn’t corrected anyone.

“You’re supposed to be watching for Bowen,” I reminded him.

“I am. He hasn’t moved since he sat over there.”

I glanced past Xander to where Bowen sat in the darkest corner of the place, far from any of the action. People had been coming and going from his table all night, most of them younger looking guys. They’d sit at his table, slide him some cash, and he’d count it. If he wasn’t happy with what he got, there’d be a heated exchange before more cash was handed over.

The man himself barely seemed to have aged since my eighteenth birthday; his once sleek black hair had turned gray, but the rest of him was still solid. He wasn’t as big as Pax, but he was still bigger than me. Even from across the room, I could tell he was still lifting weights. He looked strong. Dangerous. His blue eyes were still sharp, despite his age.

Blue eyes gleam in the dark, peering down at me on my knees. There’s blood and brain matter everywhere. How can there be so much blood? Brandon’s once vibrant eyes are half rolled back, staring at me, his jaw slack.

The cool metal of a gun presses against my temple and I close my eyes, a wave of calm washing over me. I’m ready to die. Going on alone isn’t worth it.

“Fuckin’ pathetic,” Bowen spits and his finger twitches.

“Wait.” An electric wheelchair whirrs somewhere off in the dark. He stares at me with dull, filmy eyes. There’s a deep sucking sound as my grandfather removes his oxygen mask with trembling, wrinkled fingers. “The boy lives.”

“But sir…”

“The dead learn nothing from being dead,” my grandfather says, looking up at Bowen. “I have no use for the dead. This one may yet serve his purpose, whether he means to or not.”

“Are you gentlemen enjoying the show?”

A new voice at our table pulled me from the memory, and I found myself frowning at the dark haired, bearded man standing beside our table. He had an accent—a French accent—which immediately made me dislike him for some reason. The way he spoke, I could tell he was trying to lay it on thick. He wore a T-shirt with the Foxhole’s logo on it and a washed-out pair of jeans.

Xander put his leg down and leaned forward, batting his eyelashes. “Liking it a lot better suddenly.”

The newcomer chuckled and put some napkins down. “I’m Beau. I’m taking over for Angel since she had to go home. Do you need anything? Another cosmo for you?”

“I was actually thinking about a blowjob,” Xander said with a grin.

I elbowed him.

“What?” he growled and shoved me. “It’s a drink!”

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