Chapter 211: Asher
The second Penny disappears through the back, the noise fades.
Not really. Not in the room.
But in me.
Everything that matters is walking out that back door with Boomer this place with their blood.
and I swear to God if even a single one of those bastards follows her, I’ll redecorate
The Vultures are spreading now. Like rot. Elbows on tables, boots kicked up on chairs that aren’t theirs. They’re playing it chill. Almost too chill.
Which makes it worse.
I make my way back toward the bar, locking eyes with Carter on the way.
“Get your guys ready,” I say under my breath.
He nods once and drifts toward the other side of the room.
I stop next to the bartender – young guy, maybe twenty–two – who looks like he’s trying to disappear.
“You got a back phone?”
He nods, wide–eyed, and slips one under the counter.
I don’t dial yet. I’m watching.
It all starts with Rayner.
The drunk corporal from earlier. The idiot who mouthed off.
He’s standing now, swaying slightly, squaring up with the biggest guy in the gang knuckles like bricks.
–
a bald, tank–sized asshole with a chain hanging from his belt and
“I said you’re in the wrong place,” Rayner slurs.
The Vulture grins. “And I said we’re just having drinks.”
“You’re not welcome here.”
I start walking toward them. Fast.
But I’m too late.
Rayner throws a punch.
It’s wild. Lazy.
The Vulture ducks it, then cracks him across the face with the back of his fist.
Rayner hits the floor with a wet thud.
And just like that-
The room explodes.
Chairs scrape, Glass shatters. Two Vultures start showing another soldier near the pool table. One of ours clocks agar mener with a bottle, SD
screams.
“God damn it,” I muttet, pushing through the chaos,
Two of them square up with me.
“You Hayes?” one asks.
“You came here for me?” I taise an eyebrow. “That a mistake you’re willing to live with?”
He smirks and swings.
I duck. Slam my fist into his ribs, then knee his thigh. He grunts and stumbles.
His buddy lunges at my side, but I’m already moving.
Grab. Twist. Elbow to the temple. He drops.
“You two good?” I shout at Mendez and Carter, who are brawling with two more Vultures near the jukebox.
“Peachy!” Mendez yells, dodging a stool.
Behind me, another glass smashes. Someone’s bleeding. The bartender is hiding under the counter now, praying we don’t burn the place down
I scan for the guy in charge – skull–face from earlier. He’s leaning against the bar, watching the mayhem like it’s a show.
He sees me looking and smirks.
“You boys don’t know how to share.”
14-
I stalk toward him.
“Don’t make the mistake of thinking we’re sharing oxygen.”
He stands straight, slow. Casual. But I can see the tension in his arms, the way he’s bracing.
“You know why we’re here, Hayes.”
“I don’t give a shit.”
He leans closer. “You think the girl’s safe?”
That’s all it takes.
I grab the front of his shirt, slam him back against the bar hard enough to knock over a line of empty glasses. The sound snaps the air.
“Say that again,” I growl.
He spits blood. Smiles. “She’s a hot little-”
I don’t let him finish.
My fist crashes into his face. Once. Twice. Again.
He drops. Hard.
Another Vulture comes behind me. I spin, block the punch, and drive him into the bar. He groans and drops. Behind me, Carter yells something unintelligible and dives into another fight.
I glance back toward the hallway.
No Penny.
Good.
I pull my phone from my pocket. Fingers slick with sweat and blood, I unlock it, and there it
Boomer: She’s with me. At my place. She’s safe. Sending location.
Relief hits me like a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
She’s out. She’s okay.
I look around.
The Vultures that aren’t bleeding are retreating now. A few of them drag their unconscious buddies with them. The rest of the bar is wrecked–tables overturned, blood on the floor, one light flickering like a horror movie.
Rooster was right to skip this.
I wipe blood off my jaw with the back of my hand, tap out a quick reply to Boomer.
On my way.
Then I toss my drink money on the bar unnecessary, but muscle memory
The air outside is cold and sharp.
–
Lelimb into my car, start the engine, and pull out.
She’s safe.
But until I see her?
Until I hold her?
I won’t breathe easy.
My knuckles sting on the wheel. But it’s not the damage I’m thinking about.
It’s what that bastard said, right before I laid him out:
“You know why we’re here, Hayes.”
And I do.
More than I wish I did.
The Vultures didn’t come for drinks. They didn’t even come for a fight.
They came to remind me.
To show their faces. To stir the dirt and see what’s buried underneath.
–
and push out the front door.
That part I could handle.
But somewhere in the middle of it all – before the first punch, before the first bottle shattered
Hooked at her.
Not long.
Not obviously.
Just… long enough.
She smiled.
That soft, unguarded smile she only ever gives me. The kind that pulls everything inside me to a halt. That makes the noise stop. Makes the room disappear.
And like a fucking idiot–I let it happen.
I let it show.
I let her matter in a place she never should’ve existed.
And now they know.
Now they saw.
Maybe they didn’t recognize what they were looking at right away. But they’re not stupid. They know how to read a man’s eyes. How to catch the way his chest moves. The way his whole body shifts toward something that doesn’t belong to the fight.
And she doesn’t belong to any of this.
She’s softness in a steel room. Sunlight in a war zone.
She’s the only thing I wouldn’t burn to the ground.
And they saw that.
And whatever message they came to deliver-
That wasn’t the real warning.
That was just a knock on the door.
A little taste of presence.
A reminder that they haven’t forgotten me.
But what they’ll send next?
That won’t be aimed at me.
It’ll be aimed at her.
Because that’s how they’ll make me pay.
And that’s what terrifies me most.
Not the blood. Not the pain. Not even the fallout.
Just the thought of their hands on her
because of me.
