Page 49 of Poison's Promise

“Poison, I’m not trying to pry, but…” Sydney says, touching my arm lightly. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” I nod. “Just need to clear my head. I’m a little stressed out.”

She’s swaying slightly, clearly feeling the effects of the few shots we’ve already downed. “Girl, I feel you there. I don’t know about you, but I need another drink.”

“Go for it,” I say, waving her off.

Gears moves to stand up, but she places a hand on his chest. “No, no, I got this,” she insists, starting to rise from her seat. “Relax, I can handle getting a drink by myself.”

“All right,” he mutters, settling back down but not without a warning look.

“Good luck with that,” I tease, smirking at her as she makes her way to the bar.

“So, now that we’re alone,” Dex leans in, lowering his voice. “I heard some shit’s going down back home with The Commander.”

“Yeah?” I raise an eyebrow, curiosity piquing.

Nothing good ever comes from that bastard.

“Didn’t get much detail. Dad didn’t wanna dive into it,” Dex continues, frustration evident in his tone.

“Probably wants us focused here, keeping an eye on Sydney,” Gears interjects, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“Maybe,” I nod, tapping my fingers again. “But I still want to know what the hell is going on back there.”

“Agreed,” Gears says, and Dex nods along. We’re all on the same page, that’s clear.

Then, a commotion catches my attention. Sydney’s voice, loud and angry, cuts through the din. “Get your hands off me!”

I push off the bar, heart racing.

My instincts kick in, driving me toward Sydney.

Some muscle-bound idiot towers over her, his hand gripping her arm.

“Hey!” I shout, closing the distance fast.

No one messes with my friends, and especially not with the president’s daughter.

Without thinking, I aim a swift kick right between his legs.

He crumples, gasping in pain.

“How’s that feel?” I sneer, and as soon as he drops, I knee him hard in the nose. Blood spurts, and he howls, clutching his face.

“Out!” the bartender yells, pointing at the door. Two bouncers appear, dragging the guy out while he curses under his breath.

“Thanks, Poison,” Sydney breathes, looking shaken but grateful.

“Anytime,” I wink, straightening up.

Across the room, I catch Asher’s eye.

He’s leaning against a wall, arms crossed, an amused grin playing on his lips.

That cocky bastard.

“Nice moves,” he calls out, making his way over.

---