Page 73 of Indigo

“What?” Indie asks, reaching for her glass of Pepsi.

They all shake their heads and reply, “Nothing,” in complete unison and immediately begin chatting amongst themselves again.

“They’re probably shocked to see you being nice for once,” Indie giggles, kissing my shoulder before leaning over to her left to speak to Jagger.

Maybe, but that’s not why they were staring. They’re all gobsmacked by the fact that this tiny woman has me by the balls. That’s what it is. What’s worse is that she doesn’t even have to try. Indie doesn’t need to manipulate me or nag me to do things. She simply has to open her mouth and I’ll do whatever the fuck I can to make sure she’s happy.

Twenty minutes later, the waiters have cleared our table, and we’re all heading to Josh’s on foot.

“So, I’m thinking I’ll just wait ‘til Matt and I buy something to move. What do you think?” Jagger asks as we walk down the street.

Indie wraps her arm tighter around my middle as we keep pace with Jag, giving me a reassuring squeeze.

I nod. “Yeah, whatever you want, little brother.”

Honestly, I don’t know if the kid will ever leave. He talked a big game, packed his shit, but since then he’s made every excuse under the sun to stay home.

“I think it’s a great idea,” Indie adds, leaning around me to smile at Jagger. “Market’s good at the moment and you’re both obviously wanting to stay in town, so why not?”

“My thoughts exactly,” he says as we reach the pub, stepping forward to grab the door from Matt with a wink.

As he holds it open for us, and I usher Indie through the entrance, I feel eyes on me. The hairs on the back of my neck rise, and a shiver runs through my body. Stopping mid stride, I look around, expecting to see someone, but find nothing, no one. Our group is already all inside, and the locals don’t tend to wander around too much once the sun goes down.

I’m being paranoid.

“Pax?” Indie calls, watching me with concern as I search one last time before giving up and moving toward her.

“Thought I saw something,” I say, kissing the crown of her head as we walk further inside, letting the heater warm us up from the chill of the cool night air.

“I’ve got first round,” Jagger announces, making everyone cheer as though he’d just told them they’d be drinking free for life.

Three rounds later, everyone is talking more shit than they were at dinner, and I need a fucking minute, so as Jagger comes over to Indie, who’s sitting on a bar stool next to me, chatting with Ana, I take the opportunity to excuse myself.

“Bathroom,” I whisper to Indie as I lean in and kiss her cheek, moving around her stool to head for the restrooms.

“You know you’re my favourite employee, right?” Jagger says to my girl, louder than necessary as I walk away, making me laugh under my breath and everyone else throws insults at him for playing favourites.

I lock the door of the bathroom behind me, unable to stop myself from smirking at the memory of the last time I was in here. After taking a piss and splashing some water on my face, I reach for the door handle, allowing myself one final moment of dulled down noise before pulling it open.

Something’s wrong. I can feel it. The chatter and laughter that was swirling together only seconds ago dies off, leaving nothing but the faint sound of the music playing through the speakers.

I take one step forward, my heart rate already increasing, a knot forming in my stomach.

“Get your fucking hands off her!” I hear Jagger's voice, loud and clear.

I sprint toward the main room, and what I see when I walk in makes the air leave my lungs.

I’m going to kill this motherfucker.

The bar has separated in two, one side is full of bystanders and the other is chaos. Jagger pushes Michael back as he tries to get to Indie, using his body as a shield. My girl’s backed against the bar, the stool she was sitting on when I left her laying on the floor.

Her eyes dart back and forth between my brother and her ex, panic and uncertainty written all over her face, and Matt, who is only two steps behind Jagger, is quietly watching, waiting, his fists clenched by his side.

I step forward, my body already trembling with the need to get my hands on Michael.

Callum and Drew, who are standing close by, clearly confused, look at me the moment I enter the room.

Michael is wasted. Beyond wasted. His eyes are bloodshot and unfocused and even as he tries to hold his intimidating stance, staring down my younger brother, he sways a little.

---