Page 64 of Sinning for Santa

“What the fuck is this?” I snap, watching as she stabs it out in front of her, ready to strike anyone that comes near.

“She just walked behind the bar and grabbed the knife I use to slice the limes.” Ronnie explains, “Then she said she’d stab me if I didn’t get her a phone.”

My brow hitches and I fight to hide my smirk.

She’s fucking resourceful, I’ll give her that.

“Everyone out!” I call, and the old fellas that rock up before lunch every day slide off their stools, unfazed by our knife wielding guest, and go out into the beer garden, while the old couple, the Burlingtons, remain in place at the end of the bar, not caring if they live or die.

Ronnie moves to their sides and tries to urge them to leave, but they just look at him like he’s grown two heads, and return their gazes to their glasses of beer.

“Give me a phone, Devon!” Jaxcen snaps, her eyes wild as they dart around the space.

“Ronnie. You leave too,” I sigh.

“But…” he gestures over his shoulder at the old couple, and I just shrug.

“It's their prerogative. Man the beer garden door and make sure no one comes in.”

Nodding, Ronnie dashes out quickly, leaving me alone in the bar with a crazy-eyed Miss Summers and an old couple that wished they didn’t exist.

“Put the knife down before you hurt yourself,” I scold and she scoffs.

“Come over here and let’s see who will get hurt.”

Sighing, I drop my head back and stare at the fucking ceiling.

I shouldn’t have brought her here. I should have palmed her off to my cousins and let them deal with her.

Even as I think it, I know there’s no way I would have allowed that. From the moment she walked into the church, she drew my fucking attention. Now, she’s stuck with me.

“What’s really happening here?” I ask, bringing my gaze back down to see her eyeing the old couple. “Why were we enjoying music one moment, and the next, you’re storming off and calling me a pig?”

“You are a pig. I can’t believe what you’re doing here. It’s vile, Devon. They are teenage girls.”

My brows shoot up and for some fucking reason, her words have sparked the Burlingtons to life.

“They were teenage girls,” Edith hisses. “So innocent and sweet, and those monsters took that away.”

Fuck. This isn’t good.

Jaxcen’s mouth drops open, her gaze darting from the old couple to me.

“See, they agree.”

“You don’t know what they are talking about, little mouse. Now put down the knife and come here.”

“They needed a knife,” Gordon Burlington growls. “They could have gutted them all. Cut their gizzards from their bellies.”

Jaxcen’s expression morphs into confusion, so I approach Gordon, who’s slowly rising from his bar stool.

“Hey, Gordon. We got them. Remember?” I gesture for him to sit again, and he does, while his wife Edith nods.

“I remember.” Her normally almost gone gaze meets mine, and for the first time in a long time, I see the flame still burning. “But it wasn’t enough.”

I don’t get emotional often, but this is a hard one and I have to stare at the fucking floor for a moment to let the wave of emotions pass.

“No, Edith. It wasn’t enough.” I glance back up so she can see the sincerity in my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

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