He hated having anything between them.
With a few words, he could ensure she trusted him without question. The relief that would bring was tempting as hell, especially when they were walking into the dragon’s den.
But the commissioner’s words echoed in his head. She’s got nothing to lose.
No care for her own well-being. Bowen didn’t necessarily believe she’d be reckless, but the horror of Sera being in danger kept the truth sealed tight.
Anything to keep her from being hurt.
He took her hand and led her into dark, boisterous Marco’s. The place had been a restaurant at one time, with a connected
lounge
and
bar
area.
Residents of the neighborhood who had been patronizing the eatery since they were children had stopped coming in for dinner eventually, turned off by the rough crowd that now frequented the bar and lounge. If a night went by where a fight didn’t break out, the owners chalked it up to a full moon. At one time, before he’d even reached the legal drinking age, he’d been the instigator of most of those fights.
Several men puffed on lit cigarettes and cigars at the bar, clearly not giving a fuck about the law. Why would they when they broke more serious ones on a weekly basis? The smoke hanging in the air, the vile words being shouted, they never usually fazed him. With Sera walking beside him, holding his hand, they made him sick. These disgusting people would infect her. Hell, he would, too. Wasn’t he the reason she was here tonight in the first place?
Heads turned at their entrance; conversations quieted. The reaction he typically received, but tonight it was more out of curiosity than respect. They were looking at Sera. Not blatantly checking her out—they knew better than that. He knew what they were thinking, though. Since when does Bowen Driscol walk into Marco’s holding some girl’s hand? Since when does he begin the night with a chick, instead of his usual process of picking one to leave with?
“Bowen.” A hand slapped down on his shoulder. The gold ring winking up at him would have told him it was Wayne if the voice hadn’t tipped him off.
Automatically, he jerked Sera into his side, mentally cursing when Wayne raised an eyebrow at the action. “You going to introduce me?”
Sera reached out to shake his hand.
“I’m Sera.”
Bowen’s skin crawled as Wayne wrapped his hand around hers. “Not your usual type, is she, kid?”
“Is there a reason you’re talking about her like she’s not standing there?”
“I was getting to it,” Wayne returned smoothly. “Where do you come from, Sera?”
“Lancaster,
Pennsylvania,”
she
answered casually. “Moved here a few months back.”
He appeared to weigh her answer.
“Can’t say I don’t find it odd that you chose this section of Brooklyn to relocate.” His eye twitched. “But who am I to judge?”
Bowen’s jaw felt ready to shatter. “I was wondering the same thing.”
Wayne ignored him. “It’s a pleasure, young lady. Sort of feels like we already know each other. After all, I’ve held your panties in my hand.”
A blast of pure rage catapulted through Bowen’s body. Knowing every eye in the room was trained on him, he repositioned his body so only Wayne could see his face. “This is your last warning, old man. If you disrespect her again, I’ll forget all about your relationship with my father. To be honest, my memory is already pretty goddamn foggy. Watch. Yourself.”
Irritation
flared
in
Wayne’s
expression. “Feels like I’m having déjà vu. I remember when your whore mother showed up and Lenny went soft. Took years to pull his head out of his ass. By then, we had to start from fucking scratch. All over some *,” he spat.
It didn’t matter Bowen had a non-relationship with his mother—the insult made him livid. Worse, it had been an implied insult toward Sera. His hands curled into fists and his vision dulled with red haze. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew Wayne was provoking him on purpose, though. Why? The wild card was the only thing holding him back. No chances. He couldn’t take any chances when he had Sera with him.
Instead, he concentrated on the feeling of her fingers twining with his, the way she squeezed him as if she knew what an effort it cost him not to go for Wayne’s throat.
“Did you call me down here to relive your glory days? I’m not feeling all that nostalgic.”
Wayne
looked
surprised
over
Bowen’s restraint. “No, actually. We got something to discuss. Privately.”
“Not happening tonight.”
“S’gotta be tonight.” His lips curled into a smile as he glanced at Sera. “You don’t mind. Do you, sweet thing?”