Page 64 of Villain Era

“It’ll be fun, let’s do it.” I clasp onto Simon’s torso. “How dangerous could it be? Don’t make me squeeze you to death.”

“Lead the way,” he tells the guy and snaps his visor back down. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“More than you already do? Impossible.” I loosen my grip, letting one arm completely free of my hold on Simon, and let the wind rush through my fingers.

It only takes a minute to get to where the guy told us to go, and the second we arrive in the dark parking lot behind the bar, I hop off the back of Simon’s bike and fumble with the stupid straps of the helmet. Finally, I figure it out and pop it off my head before Simon can intercept.

“Look who doesn’t need my help anymore.” He takes the helmet from me and secures it to the bike with a little locking mechanism thingy.

“Maybe eventually I’ll grow up and you won’t have to babysit me anymore either.”

“Never.” He cups my chin between his thumb and index finger. “One drink, then we’re leaving. Stay close to me, okay?”

“Fine,” I sigh while still being relieved that he gave in at all.

“Sup, man? I’m Derek.” The biker guy extends his hand toward Simon.

Simon shakes it and says, “I’m Brad, this is Shelly.”

Brad. Shelly.What the fuck.

I narrow my gaze at Simon but go along with it anyway and offer a nod of acknowledgment. "We'll be right behind you," I tell them.

We let the group of biker people enter the bar whileBradand I hang back at the entrance.

“Do I look like a fucking Shelly to you?”

Simon shrugs. “Do I look like a Brad?”

“No, not even a little bit.” I laugh and shove his shoulder. “Next time I’m picking the names.”

“Hopefully thereisn’ta next time, love. You can’t trust strangers like this. If one of them found out who you are, who I am…”

“Then what,Brad? What would happen?”

“You could get hurt!”

“Nobody gives a shit who I am. You just worry too much.”

“And you don’t worry enough. Someone has to do it for you.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m fine.” I wrap my arm around Simon’s and tug him toward the entrance. “Come on, Brad.”

The bar is thick with smoke and cheap booze. A billiards game begins when we walk in, and a group of drunk women wiggles around in a circle on the dance floor. This place is quaint, to say the least.

“There he is,” Derek yells from his spot with his arm outstretched toward Simon. “The man of the hour, Brad.”

The little group of bikers cheer and slap Simon on the back. I can sense his aggravation at the whole situation and eat every second of it up. If only these men knew who he was, then they probably wouldn't put their hands all over him. I guess his reputation doesn't stretch to this side of town. Or maybe the name really was enough of a disguise to conceal his true identity.

“What’ll ya have?” Derek asks him.

"Tequila and a bourbon." He turns toward the bartender who's awaiting his order. "Top shelf." Simon shoves his hand in his pocket and slides a hundred-dollar bill out and puts it on the counter.

“Ah, shit, man, I woulda got that for ya.” Derek frowns and throws his arm over Simon’s shoulder.

Simon shrugs him off. “No worries, man. I appreciate the sentiment, a drink can still be had together, regardless of who pays for it.”

Derek sighs heavily but seems to accept Simon’s answer. He reaches for his huge mug of beer, a bit of it sloshing over the sides. “You’re a good dude, Brad.” From the sound of his voice, he’s already been throwing them back long before he stumbled upon us. Probably why that cop was after him and their group.

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