Page 95 of Preacher

It was a hell of a turnout.

But I wasn’t watching the crowd.

I was watching her.

Tabitha was sitting next to me at the bar she’d helped design. She’d hand-picked every detail, from the tile floor to the paint color on the ceiling, and she’d outdone herself. And while it was beautiful, it couldn’t compare with how amazing she looked tonight. She was wearing a deep green dress that hugged her curves like it’d been made for her, and her hair was down over her shoulders.

She sparkled even more than the chandelier above us, and she was practically beaming with pride as she asked, “Do you think they’ll come back?”

“Oh, they’ll come back. No doubt about it.” I took a pull from my beer before saying, “I mean, hell. Look at this place. It’s amazing, and so are you.”

“Thank you.” She leaned into me with a smile. “You’re pretty great, too.”

She glanced over at Viktor and Nikolai, and they were working the floor, greeting everyone with a casual nod or firm handshake. Sergei was posted up near the private room, looking down on everything like a hawk.

They were new to the game, but it didn’t show. Hell, this place was running almost as well as the Vault. The guards made themselves known without being in your face, the bartenders were staying on top of things, serving one fancy cocktail after the next, and the servers were dressed seductively, but not overly so.

I leaned over to Tabitha and told her, “Your boys did good.”

“They did, didn’t they?” Her smile widened. “I know they must be proud. I know I am.”

“As you should be.”

When she spotted someone she knew, she gave them a quick wave and said, “I’m going to walk around a bit. You want to join me or…”

“No, you go ahead. I’ll hang tight and finish my beer.”

“Okay. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Take your time.”

Tabitha eased off her stool and made her way around the room. I watched as she went over and talked with a few of the guests and VIPs. They all seemed starstruck as she did her best to make them feel at home. Eventually, she made her way over to Memphis and Goose, and after talking with them for a moment, she headed over to Grim.

He was sitting in one of the lounges with his girl curled up beside him. They talked for a moment, and then, she was off again. She made her rounds to all my boys, and damn if she didn’t look beautiful doing it. Hell, she walked through the room like she owned it, and I couldn’t be prouder that she was mine.

I sipped on my beer and watched as several people walked by. A few gave a hard look while others avoided eye contact entirely. They all knew who I was, knew the wrath me and my boys were capable of, so I couldn’t necessarily blame them for wanting to steer clear.

It was the cost of making things happen, and I was a man who made things happen. It was that thought that had me thinking about Vasili and the moment I knew things with him were truly over.

Shep had been monitoring things in New York, waiting and watching for any word of Vasili. At first, there was nothing. No word of him or his disappearance. Not even a whisper or false report.

But on a random Tuesday night, Shep came into my office and announced, “There were three fires in the city last night. All within hours of each other.”

“You think they’re connected to Vasili?”

“There were no names in the reports. Just the number of casualties. But I ran the addresses and cross-referenced them with property records.” He hesitated, then dropped the hammer. “One belonged to Vasili and the others to his two sons.”

“Damn. The whole damn line got wiped out.”

“Sure did. It was like they were never there.”

That kind of thing just didn’t happen. There were too many cops, too many neighbors and friends, and all the politics. A wipeout like that took a lot of money and power, and clearly, these guys had it.

It made that ten percent sound not so bad after all.

“A hell of a way to send a message.”

“Message received. Loud and clear.”

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