Page 74 of His Puppet

“You good?”

I narrow my eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Victor scans my face as he studies me, like he’s waiting for me to break down or something. When I don’t, he gives a curt nod and heads for the door. He opens it for me, and I step inside. Victor falls into step next to me and lets the door shut.

The pub has several people in it, but few look like customers. Three men sit at a bar, talking to a bartender who’s leaning toward them on the other side. Two men play cards at a booth closest to the door. Then there’s a booth and a table with a few guys at each, mugs in front of them. No women.

The bartender’s eyes find us, and one of the men in the booth jumps up, tossing his cards down as he does. Victor holds out his hands then looks down and gestures for me to do the same.

Two out of three of the men sitting at the bar are turned this way now, but one doesn’t seem to notice. He nurses a beer and appears disinterested. The men in the back don’t seem to notice us either.

I hold out my hands and wonder what the hell I’m supposed to do when the guy searches me and finds the bag loosely tucked into my shorts. Then there’s the knife at my side.

Why the fuck didn’t Victor warn me about this?

The man checks Victor first, clearly feeling the gun and looking over his shoulder at the bar.

He pats down the rest of Victor’s body and holds one finger up toward the men at the bar. Then he steps in front of me.

“You already know what I’ve got, Patty. You frisk my girl for no reason, and we’re gonna have problems.”

The man’s hands stop midair in front of my shoulders. He’s thinking twice about patting me down.

He looks over his shoulder, and I do the same. One of the guys at the bar waves, and Patty steps to the side.

We walk up to join the men at the bar.

The one who waved gets up, his jaw tight like he isn’t at all happy to see Victor.

Victor smiles and puts his hand on my lower back.

This one.

“Ian,” Victor says, nodding at the man. “Good to see you, friend.”

Ian’s face gets redder than his hair, and he raises his chin. “What the hell do you want?”

Victor frowns and lets his hand fall away from my back. “What’s with the hostility? I thought we agreed to keep things friendly.”

“And I thought I told you to stay the fuck away from here,” he growls.

The guy seems pissed, and his friend at the bar with him looks like he’s waiting to back up his friend. The third guy, an older man with gray hair and a short beard doesn’t look up from his beer. The bartender pretends to be busy down at the other end of the bar.

I slip the little velvet bag from my shorts and hold it discreetly at my side.

Victor hums. “Mmm, yes, you did. I was hoping to forgive you for that. Here we are, blissfully living in peace, and then we have to go and have some meaningless quarrel.”

“Meaningless—” Ian stops himself, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

I turn to the side, as if I’m turning to look up at Victor, and I tuck the bag into Ian’s pants pocket. The string sticks out, and when I see that, I go to tuck it in, but he opens his eyes, halting me.

“What the fuck are you doing bringing this girl into our pub?”

Oh no.

I move as subtlety as I can into Victor’s side and don’t make eye contact with any of them. The more invisible I am, the better.

Victor snakes his arm around my waist, and I resist the urge to elbow him in his side. “Thisgirlis my new partner. Pretty, isn’t she?”

---