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Chapter 208: Asher
It’s loud now.
The kind of loud where the bass of the music panches through your spine, and the voices are mets shred, laughter meester Thur bust of bond that save the night’s slipping toward that edge the one where you either go home or wake up somewhere you dise’t want is fe
I’m still sipping my second drink, hot counting the two I didn’t finish earlier. Most of the guys aren’t as careful. Mendes i Braming the hard into the shoulder of some corporal I don’t recognize, and Bishop’s retelling the same damn story for the third sie, uses animated earl pent
1 keep glancing toward the bar.
Penny’s over there, deep in conversation with one of the older veterans
a guy in his sixties with silver hair and an Dupree detache
listening with that bright, undivided attention that makes you feel like you matter. Like you’re still semenne.
She’s been perfect tonight. Staying close, but not hovering. Knowing when to leave me with the boys and when to drift back in my
But this room?
It’s about to shift.
I feel it before it happens.
I’m turning my head to call for her–was about to say let’s go, baby, I’ve had enough of this–when the door slams open.
Bang.
Not a knock.
Not a squeak.
A crack, loud and deliberate, like a threat.
Heads turn. Conversations freeze mid–word. Even the music seems to stutter.
And then they walk in.
Twelve. No–fifteen maybe. All wearing the same worn leather jacket. Same patch over the heart. Same dead–eyed stares.
The Vultures.
I know the insignia. I know what they run. Meth. Guns, Flesh.
They don’t belong here.
Not at this pub. Not on this night.
I stand.
Carter leans in. “Shit,” he mutters. “Tell me that’s not-”
“It is.”
I scan the room. Penny’s still by the bar, halfway turned around from the sound. She hasn’t seen them yet. The guy she’s talking to narrows his eyes, stiffens.
I start moving. Calculated steps. Not fast fast draws attention.
One of the drunk corporals, though? No restraint.
1/3
Chapter 208: Asher
He stands, throws his arm out toward the nearest gang member arul shauts, “Hey! You boys lost? Wrong part of town for leather daddy cosplay(s
Shit.
“Sit. Down,” I snap across the room, but it’s too late.
The gang member grins slow, predatory. “Say that again?”
The corporal laughs. “I said maybe try a mirror before you walk into a military bar looking like a group therapy session for overcompensating shole
The whole room holds its breath.
I’m already moving toward them, hands up.
“Hey–hey. Let’s dial it back,” I say, voice calm, firm. “No one’s looking for a fight.”
“Speak for yourself,” the drunk snorts.
The Vulture closes in, grinning wider. “We’re just here for a drink, hero. You gonna let us have one?”
I catch Boomer’s eyes across the room. His expression drops.
Panic.
He’s behind Penny now. He sees what I see.
Her golden hair. Her soft curves. Her black coat only halfway buttoned. She’s glaring at the drunk guy, but she has no idea the bigger problem is walking toward the bar behind her.
I give Boomer one sharp nod, then mouth it:
Get her out.
Boomer swallows hard. Steps in.
He whispers something into Penny’s ear, low and fast.
I can’t hear what he says–but I do hear her response.
“I’m not leaving him here!”
“Penny-” Boomer grabs her wrist gently, urgent.
“I’m serious-”
“I know. But Asher needs you safe. Please.” His voice cracks. “Don’t make me drag you.”
She looks up. Finds me across the room.
My stare locks on hers. One second of pure need, raw and pleading.
Go.
Her jaw clenches, but she nods.
Boomer’s already walking her back, through the little staff hallway, toward the kitchen and service door.
I turn back.
Chapter 208: Asher
Three of the Vultures have fanned out, lining the wall. A fourth is already at the bar, flagging down the bartender with a five–dollar bill he folds alas 2 hand and flips into the air like a trick.
They’re haiting us.
Trying to get someone to snap.
The drink corporal is still posturing. Still saying something stupid I can’t hear over the music.
I cut in fast, grab his shoulder. “You’re done.”
He sways a little. “I got this, Hayes. I’m just talking.”
“I said. You’re done.” My voice isn’t calm anymore.
I grip harder. He sees it in my eyes this time the part of me that doesn’t ask twice.
He sinks back into his stool.
One of the Vultures watches me with interest. Tall, blond, hollow cheekbones like a skull.
“You in charge here?” he asks.
“No. Just not interested in mopping blood off the floor.”
He chuckles. “Neither are we.”
But the way he says it?
He’s lying.
He wants the fight.
I look toward the hallway again, just as the back door creaks closed behind Penny and Boomer.
Safe.
At least for now.
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