Page 20 of Root

“I recognize you, and you’re better when there aren’t dumb fucks hanging off you like parasites. Or stupid girls with fake tits.”

She’s not wrong about my friends, but I don’t see them much. I like keeping a foot in the normal world occasionally, just to see what it’s like.

“You,” I say, “forgot the boring ones.”

“Don’t remember. Tell me about them,” she says and refills our glasses.

“I’ll let you know about them in twenty.”

“Is that your bedroom talk? Tell a girl about your boring friends and she’ll fuck you? I’m not sure how that works.” Then she flicks a glance over at the corner and sighs.

“What is it?” I ask.

“I don’t know what you’re into, pretty boy, but there are two, big, leather-clad dudes in the corner who find you a fuck of a lot more interesting than your date did.”

Shit. “All night?”

“Even now.”

“Not worried about them.”

She raises her brow. “They don’t look the nicest.”

“This is ally territory.” Normally, I wouldn’t say that, but considering I’m known and she knows my name, it’s not a problem, and even if it is, I don’t give a fuck.

But Nikolai gave me a warning, so maybe it’s best to call it a night.

I pull out my wallet, peeling off three twenties and dropping them on the bar.

She eyes it. “Last of the big spenders?”

“You know it. I need to jet; I’ve got an early morning. Catch you here soon, Jess.”

I wave and walk, noting the place is a hell of a lot emptier than when I walked in. It’s me, a guy in one corner and the two thugs. It happens, but it sets a little nugget of unease fizzing in my gut.

Still, this is Smith family territory, so I’m good as is Jess. I hit outside and look about, to the side of the bar, but it’s only the garbage cans. Maybe I should go in and tell her to call someone for protection.

Or maybe I’ve been thinking too much.

Shit. I need to—

Pain ricochets through me as something hard and rough hits my head, breaking on impact. I stagger back as light bursts in my eyes.

“Get him.”

Those fucks hit me with a bottle. I spin and kick, using my keys as a weapon as I punch the other in the eye. They both howl, but as I try to run, they grab me, and something hard and painful hits my stomach.

Knuckle dusters. The other has me now, and I twist and fight, going for a head butt and a kick in the nuts.

I grab one in a bear hug, as another picks up my legs. Fucker. Pushing forward on the dick who I’m holding, trying to break his ribs, I bring my feet hard into leg grabber’s nuts, right as the knuckle duster owner swoops in to swipe at me. I go down, taking the ass I’ve got hold of with me and I turn, slamming my elbow into that asshole’s nut sack.

Fuck me. I turn, so Knuckle Duster’s blow glances off my upper arm. Pain flares and I slam into the squealing man under me and then I kick out Knuckle Duster’s leg.

I roll, getting up to stomp the shit on the three of them, throwing punches low and dirty when one tries to come at me.

Someone hits me, and it’s not either of these two. I roll over, narrowly missing a fist to the face. Fuck. Jess’s friend.

Before I can move, someone whistles. “Hey dickwads! Back the fuck up, or you’ll be picking each other’s pubes out of your teeth for weeks!”

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