Page 62 of Beyond the Horizon

And fuck proving his innocence anyway. I’m not a court of law, I go on probability, and probability tells me he’s fucking trouble. Despite Grant’s theory that this is more to do with my sudden infatuation with Connie (the prick) I know my gut is right. Switching off my laptop and stowing it away in a compartment hidden beneath my kitchen cabinet, I haul arse into the shower.

Ten minutes later I’m dressed and ready, heading over to Lola’s Shack.

Spilling out, are several men, all of whom seemed to have had one too many drinks already. This time, there are a few more women dotted amongst them, none of whom I recognise. Not that I particularly care, so long as these men are occupied with other women they’re not fawning over my girl. She’s off-limits to every single one of these wankers, including me.

“Hey, you’re new around here, fancy a drink?” one woman asks, clocking me as I make my way through the crowd milling around outside. She slides in front of me, shoving her cleavage out and licking her lips provocatively as she grasps my arm. I notice she’s wearing a pink sash with the words‘Lucy’s Hen Party’and has probably downed enough booze to sink the Titanic given her slurred speech and high-pitched giggle.

“Not new around here, and no I don’t,” I respond, my voice clipped, strained. She needs to take her fucking hand off me.

“Ah, come on big boy, what happens on the island stays on the island,” she slurs.

Losing my already frayed patience, I lean over and growl in her ear. “Take your hand off me before I do it for you.”

She snatches her hand back, my cold response somehow registering in her foggy, alcohol-muddled brain.

“Must be gay,” she mutters as I push past her. She staggers sideways and out of my way. I hold back a laugh and shoot her a cutting look instead.

“Not gay, just not fucking interested.”

Expecting Connie to be run off her feet, given the place is busy, I head inside ready to clear the place and send each and every drunk arsehole home. Except Connie isn’t struggling to maintain control. She’s perched on a stool at the far end of the bar with her guitar across her lap talking to that prick Peter who is currently mixing fucking cocktails like he owns the damn place. Neither Lola nor Rob are anywhere to be seen.

“Where’s Lola?” I ask the bloke next to me. He seems familiar, but right now I can’t place his name. He gives me a surprised look and opens his mouth as though he’s about to tell me to mind my manners but changes his mind when I glare at him.

“With Rob on the mainland,” he retorts, wary now.

I point towards Peter. “He’s new. Work here, does he?”

“Kind of. That’s Connie’s fella. He helps her out.”

“Connie’sfella?” I snap, unable to hide my surprise and my anger. He better fucking not be.

“Yeah, thick as thieves those two. Been hanging out every day for the past few weeks. Most of the guys here are pissed they didn’t get in there first.”

“Is that so?”

“Connie’s got quite a few admirers. That girl’s a sex bomb.”

Anger boils inside and it’s all I can do to not to take out every single fucker in here who has ever had dirty thoughts aboutmyLittle Siren. Why the fuck have Lola and Rob left her alone? She’s like a nice juicy lamb chop in a den full of wolves. I must’ve said that out loud because the guy… Dan, I suddenly recall, looks at me with raised eyebrows.

“She’s not alone, Pete is here, and the last time one of the guys got a bit over amorous he knocked him out cold with one punch. You wouldn’t know it, looking at him, but he’s a lot tougher than he seems. No one’s tried to make a pass at her since. Though he can’t stop them from looking or appreciating her singing. Her voice is as sexy as she is…” His voice trails off when I suddenly grab him by the collar and sneer in his face.

“Stop talking about her like she’s a piece of meat!” I growl.

“Whoa! Sorry man, I meant no harm. Are you and Connie…?”

“None of your fucking business, dirtbag. Now, fuck off.” I let go of him and stalk towards the bar. It might only be early still, but I’m closing this place down. Lola can have it out with me tomorrow. I don’t give a fuck. Someone needs to be a responsible adult here, and tonight that looks like it’s going to be me.

When I reach the bar still unnoticed by Connie, much to my annoyance, I slam my fist on the counter a few times. On the fourth strike, the music has suddenly stopped, and the room has fallen quiet, all eyes fixed on me. There must be at least thirty people inside the small space, but I’m only aware of one of them.

My Little Siren is staring at me with daggers in her eyes, and fuck if it doesn’t turn me on.

Ignoring her obvious distaste, I address the room. “Drink up everyone, The Shack is closing as of right this fucking second…”

“Now hold on…” the little prick Peter begins, his twang grinding on my last nerve. “Who do you think you are?”

My head snaps around as I glare at him, my lips pulling back over my teeth. “Your worst nightmare and I have more right to be here than you do, arsehole. The Shack’s closing as of five fucking seconds ago.”

He has the audacity to look at Connie who is watching the whole scene unfold with her mouth popped open. I don’t even want his fucking eyes on her, let alone anything else. I need to do something about this kid and fast. He needs to go.

“Last time I heard, Lola owns this place and in her absence Connie’s in charge. She gets to decide when this place closes. Besides, Connie’s about to play.”

“No!” My anger punches me violently in the gut. I don’t want her to play. I don’t want her to sing for any of these drunk, undeserving motherfuckers. Her beautiful voice deserves an avid, singular audience.Me. I narrow my eyes at this Peter prick. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. You choose.”

Silence fills the air which is heavy with sweat, booze and tension. No one moves. Seconds tick by and I’m about to revert to type and go allPunisheron his arse when the sound of a guitar playing forces me to be still.

Slowly, I meet Connie’s gaze and she gives me the tiniest hint of a smile that has challenge written all over it.Try and stop me, it says. I move towards her, pulling up sharply when she starts to sing. Like every other fucker in this place, I’m enraptured. There aren’t many voices that can cut through alcohol addled brains, but Connie’s breathtaking voice does exactly that.

My Little Siren haemorrhages her soul for the room to witness, and I fucking hate it.

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