Page 18 of Winter's End

“Hey.” I’d never actually thanked him for saving my life. Though, at this point it was just a bunch of too-little, too-late. I’d give him the fucking tip of his life tonight. “Can I get a soda water with lime?”

His eyebrows shot up, but a small smile curved his lips. “Sure, man. I make one hell of a mocktail if you want to try one.”

He grabbed a glass off the shelf behind him and looked at me questioningly.

“Just the soda-water, thanks,” I said tightly, in no mood to be accommodated with fruity princess drinks as I desperately attempted to stay clean.

I had a thought as I waited for him to slice the limes. “Is Winter out back yet? I need to talk to her.”

He looked up from his task and frowned. “Yeah, she’s in the last dressing room. They go on in ten, though, man, I wouldn’t?—”

“Thanks,” I interrupted and tossed him a twenty for the drink as he handed it to me.

She was already standing by the door when I got there, her eyes widening in surprise and then confusion. She looked fucking fuckable in her tight black sequined dress and matching stilettos. It took everything in me not to caress her curves and push her against the door for a quick and satisfying fuck.

Our first time wasn’t going to be like that. I would take my princess like a fucking queen.

“I know you’re about to go on. I wanted you to know that I’m meeting Carson here tonight. It’s business, and I’m putting everything in place to take this man down. I don’t want you thinking I’m going back on my promise.”

She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing her eyes. I hated how this man affected her this way. Hated that he had wormed his way under her skin and still caused her to seize up in fear.

Her reaction decided for me. I was going to obliterate these panic attacks. For fucking good.

I cupped her cheek in my palm and her blue eyes flew open, staring through me to the rotten, damaged core.

“He’s not going to hurt you anymore, Princess. Never again.”

She swallowed hard with a small nod. “I trust you.”

She could have told me she loved me for what those words meant to me. If she fucking trusted me, I would cherish that trust like I was going to cherish her. When I finally wore her down and she let me.

Before I knew I was doing it, I leaned down to kiss her. It was a soft promise, one I was determined to keep. She hesitated, then tentatively kissed me back, her lips warm and tender against mine.

“We’re up!” A voice interrupted behind us. Winter hastily pulled away and pushed past me before turning with a small smile.

“Thanks for the heads up.” She dropped her shoulders, held her head high like the queen she was and shot me a saucy wink. “Enjoy the show.”

Carson was already waiting for me at a curved table at the front, drink in hand, with glassy eyes.

“Hey, man.” He sneered as he eyed Winter, who’d just walked on the stage looking even better under the spotlight than she had just seconds before. “I see your girl’s working the stage tonight.”

His insinuation was clear; Winter was not a stripper, not a whore, not anyone Carson was going to harass any longer. I would walk a fine line to string him far enough along to get the payback deserved for everything he did to her, but he would not get away with that now. Not now or ever again.

I grabbed his wrist, squeezing until I could feel the bones shift beneath my grip. “Winter is off limits.” I growled. “You don’t speak about her in my presence, got it?”

I released him, knowing I didn’t need a larger threat. Carson knew what I had on him, and what it would do to his reputation. Fuck, what it would do to hislife, seeing as he was guaranteed jail time.

“Jesus,” the pathetic little Mama’s Boy whined as he rubbed his wrist tenderly. “Got it.”

We watched the show for ten minutes; me sipping on my pathetic excuse for a drink with him sulking beside me. Oddly, I didn’t seem to have a coke craving when I was in Winter’s presence. Maybe I was swapping one addiction out for another.

I could live with that.

Her voice was sultry, her body sensual as she sang the words to a song I’d heard a thousand times, but she made it her own. If Winter were in Hollywood, she would have made it by now, instead of singing at a mobster’s bar in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere.

It was time to break the silence and get this fucking chore over with. I turned to Carson when the song broke. “All right, what are we fucking meeting about?”

What a waste of goddamn time.

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