Page 36 of Iris
He doesn’t finish that. Killian twists his arm and slams him, face first against the bar, his pocketknife already in his hand. It’s hovering dangerously close to the man’s jugular.
“I said—” he leans in close to the asshole’s ear—“we’re closed.”
I step up to the others, pulling my shoulders back to show off my height, and stare them down. They stumble off their stools and head for the door.
I say.
“This little punk disrespected you.”
Time seems to stand still as he debates it in his head.
Finally,he sighs. “Lucky for you, I’m in a good mood today.” Metal clicks, and I assume he’s put the knife away. “So I’ll tell you what, come back Saturday, and you can buy your drinks then. First round is on the house.” Then he adds, softly, “Now go.”
The second he lets him go, the Alpha rushes out the door, with his friends following close behind him. Killian walks over and locks the door.
“God, I hate rich fuckers,” he says and scrubs a hand over his face. “They think they automatically own the room and everyone should bow down to them. And why? Because they have money?”
I sign at him.
“They were assholes.”
“Rich asshole kids.”
I sigh.
He’s not wrong, but we’ve got an important meeting coming up, and I don’t think Kil wants to fuck that up any more than I do.
Killian’s more the true believer, but I’m in it for Emmie. For what’s right, too, but for Emmie.
Suddenly, a powdery, floral scent tickles the inside of my nose. Killian must smell it too because we turn to the stairs at the same time.
Iris stands there, arms crossed. She’s wearing a pair of old leather pants from Freya and a band T-shirt. I don’t know who the band is, but it doesn’t matter. Her hair is down now, falling in waves to her shoulders. It’s a simple change, but it makes a world of difference. She looks…
“Hot,” Killian says with a low whistle.
I sign.
He signs back.
“How long have you been standing there?” he asks her, but it’s clear from the scowl on her face that it was long enough.
“Is that what you think?” she asks with venom in her tone. “That everyone from the Upper Side is just rich, entitled assholes you can push around and exploit for their money?”
Killian’s mouth opens, but I’m already signing,to him.
“Do you think we’re all idiots?”
This time, Killian strolls forward, meeting her toe-to-toe. “If the shoe fits, Cinderella.”
She sniffs. “You’re just jealous.”
He scoffs. “Of inexperienced, pompous brats like you? I don’t think so.”
With that, she narrows her eyes and strides around Killian to march right up to me. She grabs a fistful of my shirt and uses it to tug me down to her height and kiss me.
