Page 104 of Never Die for a Sinner
“You leave this bar, and I’ll spank your ass until it’s as red as Cherry’s hair. Understood?”
My cheeks burn when he pulls back, only to lean in and press his lips to my forehead. It’s soft and gentle to the outside world, but to me, I can feel the threat lingering.
He would. I know he would.
The terrifying thing is that I know he’d make me like it.
“Fine,” I grumble, and he swats my ass when I turn to climb onto a bar stool.
“Cherry, whatever she wants. Ava, give me twenty minutes,” he says, and then he disappears down the hallway behind the other men.
Cheddar, who returns with a shirt on and substantially less blood, slides into the stool opposite me.
He looks like a giant beside me, and I’m sure the view is comical from behind.
“What will you have?” Cherry asks, and I can tell she’d rather serve me sewer water than anything from this bar.
“Um . . . a Coke, please.”
She stares at me like she’s bored, but nevertheless, grabs a can and slides it across the counter toward me.
I take it, feeling like a child who’s waiting on her father to conduct business while the unwilling employees look after her.
“So . . . is Cheddar your real name?”
Cheddar, who takes a big swig of a beer, smiles at me.
“No. My real name is Hector.”
“Hector. I like that.”Better than Cheddar.
“What’s your name?”
“Ava,” I answer without thinking. Everyone here calls Levi Black. I don’t know if that was intentional or if they just aren’t supposed to know his real name. Maybe I’m supposed to be undercover, too.
“Miss Ava,” Cheddar smiles. “Happy to meet you.”
“You Black’s new watchdog, Cheddar?” Cherry asks from the other end of the bar.
“Mr. Black asked me to look after his lady friend, so that’s what I’m going to do.”
“What a fine babysitter you are,” she says sweetly, though Cheddar doesn’t realize it’s anything but sweet.
“Sooo . . . Hector. What is this place?”
“This is the Tomb,” Cheddar announces proudly. “On account of it being a place where people can fight to the death if they want. No rules.”
“Sounds like anarchy,” I mumble.
“Sounds like a place not fit for someone who drinks Coke at a bar,” Cherry chimes.
I grit my teeth to keep from spouting off at her and chalk it up to jealousy.
I get it.
I’m jealous too. I shouldn’t be, but a part of me hates that Levi comes here and spends time with her. She obviously cares for him, and in turn, hates me because of it.
I can’t fault her for wanting the man, any more than I can fault Cheddar for going in the ring.
