“Go away,” Bastion’s voice came through the earbuds, sounding annoyed. “I’m busy, Julia.”
“What are you doing all alone, Sebastian? Your mom asked me-” came a girl’s voice next. Julia, likely.
Bastion cut her off. “Marla isn’t my mother, although you looked tired and old enough to replace her. Been on a few too many benders? It would be easier if you moved into rehab instead of visiting on weekends.”
Julia made a huffy sound. War snorted his own laugh. He didn’t know her personally, but she sounded like the typical messed-up society girl Bastion’s stepmom tossed on him at her parties.
“Do you want to dance?” Julia asked. Persistence wasn’t going to pay off. She obviously didn’t know Bastion by reputation.
War tuned out Bastion’s response, finally spotting his quarry, just when he was about to give up and try elsewhere. Her little purple backpack was on the floor beside her booth seat with the frivolous unicorn horn fob decorating the top. It made her seem all the more innocent in contrast to this den of sin. He sighed and spoke quietly. “She’s here, Bastion.”
“Give me a moment,” Bastion said, whispered. War doubted Julia had heard him. “I don’t want to dance, Jules, but I would like to fuck. Go upstairs to my bedroom, 3rd door on the left. Take off your underwear and throw them in the trash. Lie down on my bed on your belly. Grab the cuffs under the pillow and lock them around your wrists. Wait for me to come to unlock you. If you deviate from these instructions, no fucking.”
War shouldn’t be shocked, not really. Bastard was out full force. The surprise was actually Julia’s response.
“I’m wearing Victoria’s Secret. You can’t expect me to throw them out. Don’t you want a souvenir?”
Julia should have heeded the distaste in Bastion’s tone when he talked about trashing her fancy panties. War internally winced, wishing he could pull out the earbuds and not be a witness to the coming blowback.
“I’m going to sit down in the booth next to the one Tess is in,” War said, making his way over. Tess was facing away from the bar and hadn’t spotted him. She was talking to an older lady, and although it looked like their talk was a bit animated with Tess’s hand waving, there was nothing immediately dangerous that War felt the need to break up.
“A booth? Who is she with?” Bastion asked.
“Who are you talking to right now?” Julia asked. Her tone was not as melodious as earlier. It had hit a squeak by the last word.
War was going to get whiplash between the duelling conversations. He didn’t imagine Bastion felt any better about it, stuck facing the girl screeching in War’s ear.
“She’s talking with some woman. Looks like a typical Daniels old lady, probably trying to score. Not sure what they’re talking about,” War whispered. “Gotta keep quiet now,” he added, knowing he was getting close enough and his accented voice stood out. The bar might be noisy but War was getting near so he could overhear Tess’s conversation, so he had to expect Tess might hear him in return if he spoke.
Bastion decided to deal more definitely with his own problem. “Julia, keep your panties and your sobriety out of the trash. This is the one time I’ll give honest advice to you, so take it and run back to Marla and tell her we’re going to be fucking like rabbits in my room and not to disturb us. Oh, and did I mention I don’t know where the keys are to those cuffs and I would have left you locked up as a distraction. Thank me properly for this second chance.”
War had no doubt that Bastion was being frank. Julia must be made of stern stuff because she didn’t shriek or cry or beg. She laughed, sharp and bitter. “Fuck you, Bastion,” was said quiet and without much heat, cold as the rejection.
“What is going on with Tess?” Bastion asked.
War didn’t answer. He leaned casually back in his booth, as close as he could get to Tess without being too obvious about it. Slinging back his beer, he listened and hoped Bastion would overhear something.
“I have nothing more to say to you,” Tess said. She was mad, real anger driving her words so each sound bit out. War had never heard her speak like that before to any of them.
“Boo hoo, baby. I’m not here to negotiate. Pay up or else I’m calling daddy,” said the woman. She had a smoker’s voice, hoarse and thready with the precious air her lungs needed barely piping it. No way Bastion would hear her threat over the earbuds.
War grabbed his phone out and started texting the conversation, using the group chat that didn’t have Tess. Kade and Keir might not have their phones now but they would be caught up when they got them back after the client dinner.
“You gonna scratch my back up too, like some jealous cat? He hates that kind of desperate behaviour.”
Tess sounded nothing like herself. It wasn’t anger, it was rage that had simmered and now boiled over.
“Fuck you, little bitch. Where’s the money?” the woman said.
“Like you need thirty dollars. That rock on your finger cost a hundred times that and he’s wading in shit to his neck with Larry. He’d hock your ring with your hand still attached if the money would fix the problem. What do you really want?” Tess said.
Bastion: Who is Larry?!
War: Dunno. Sounds like Tess knows this woman and some other guy, on top of Larry.
“Keep your fucking nose out of it. He’s on his way. If mommy’s not here to pay her weekly bail, we’re gonna send Jensen after your baby cunt and pay it in pussy,” the woman threatened.
War hovered his thumbs over the phone. If he texted that comment to Bastion, the bastard was going to lose his shit and knock out his mother’s guards personally to come down here and neutralize the threat to Tess. And the twins? Kade would show Tess exactly what he had done to earn his new reputation as a badass and Keir always backed his brother up.
War: It’s serious. The woman mentioned Jensen. I need to get Tess out of here. Just listen, gonna put my phone away to keep my hands free to haul Tess out.
“Fuck whoever Jensen is. My father likes to beat me personally. Keeps it in the family,” Tess ground out. “You want to go outside and see which of us has dirtier claws, Rachel?”
War had already stood up and was staring at Rachel when Tess made this last threat. He froze upon hearing her mention her father, thinking of the beer bottle Tess had mentioned. Tess had said she couldn’t even remember how young she was when she first was hit by him. She also said he was out of her life.
“Tess-girl, get up,” War ordered, accent heavily rumbling his speech.
With wide eyes, Tess whipped her gaze to him.
“Who the fuck are you, her boyfriend?” the woman jeered at him.
“One of her boyfriends,” War said. “The nice one,” he added, tipping the rest of his beer over on her lap. “I don’t like hearing Tess called a cunt and I’ll tear Jensen’s dick off and feed it to him if he even looks at her.”
That got a reaction. Tess scooted out of her booth and grabbed the wrist of his hand holding the now empty beer bottle. War removed Tess’s hand using force carefully applied to pressure points, and ignoring her flinch of pain, he grabbed her forearm in return with his released hand. He shifted himself to block Tess’s body behind his big one from the woman now screaming obscenities to him.
“What the hell is going on here?” hollered somebody. War didn’t really care.
“Move the fuck out now. Is Jensen there?” Bastion asked, calm deserted for panicked anger. He was no less dominant, but now, the control switch was flipped to ignore innocent bystanders.
“We’re leaving,” War said to pretty much everyone. He slammed his empty beer on the booth table and grabbed Tess’s backpack. “You stay here, Rachel, and remember that next time it might not be the nice boyfriend that catches you catfighting,” he told the woman.
Nobody tried to stop them. It was pretty obvious they had an altercation but they weren’t bleeding and nothing was broken. They were leaving the scene before blows were exchanged and as far as the bar was concern
ed, it was the best case scenario. Tess screamed up a storm as he hauled her out, exactly like the caveman move he’d dreaded earlier, but she didn’t raise up even one knight to come to her rescue.
As soon as they were outside the door, which War had shoved open with a bang, he started lecturing Tess. He shouted right over her complaints.
“Nobody cares, Tess. They’d let me throw you across the table and fuck you right there as long as I paid a round of free drinks for everyone. What the hell were you thinking, going to Daniels?”
“Warrick, let me go,” Tess shouted back at him. It wasn’t the first time she’d made the demand.
“No, I’m taking you home,” War said, lowering his voice. His grip didn’t loosen.
“Put her on with me,” Bastion said, cold and hard.
“Bastion wants to talk with you,” War told Tess, his big strides eating up the pavement as he walked them across the lot towards the direction of his house. He was practically dragging her, knew it might leave her some bruises on her forearm.
Guilt was a twinge in his chest.
Damn it.
“Where is Bastion?” Tess asked, stumbling.
War turned and caught her by the other shoulder and his grip on her forearm. He straightened her up and released her with a sigh. “Bastion’s listening on the phone,” War explained, yanking his earbuds out impatiently. He handed them to her. “Don’t make him wait, if you have any sense left.”
Her eyes widened impossibly more. Oh, she wasn’t an idiot but she was just now realizing how much crap she was in with Bastion. Personally, War thought Tess might have had an easier time of it if she faced off against the twat in the bar. The only luck for Tess at the moment was that Bastion was trapped at his house.
She scowled at the earbuds but scooped them from War’s palm and gingerly popped them into her ears. “Hello?” she tentatively asked.
Bastion must have answered because she flinched. It wasn’t the volume of Bastion’s response—War heard nothing from the buds, yelling would bleed out—but whatever Bastion had said left Tess looking a little less defiant in a few seconds.
“He’s worried about you,” War rumbled out, dropping to his knees in front of Tess. She met his gaze, her own eyes suspiciously bright with held-back tears. “We were all afraid,” War declared. He handed her backpack to put on, waiting while she did so routinely, still focused on whatever Bastion was saying to her. “Now, you’re coming to my house so we can get my car. Talk to Bastion while I carry you.”
Over his shoulder she went. Tess squawked about it, complaining about her kilt. They hadn’t gotten her a new uniform yet since the shop was only open on Mondays. He put her back on her feet, whipped off his hoodie, wrapped it around her hips and tied it off, noting it was so big it hung to her knees, and then back over she went.
“Say another word and I’ll humiliate you by making this a conference call with the twins and putting it on speaker,” War lied.
Tess settled down. He could hear her side of the conversation only vaguely. Her voice was soft and sometimes it got tight.
Great.
He wasn’t sure if he had rescued Tess or doomed himself.
Probably both.
Chapter 24
Tess
HER BODY WAS VIBRATING. It was coming off the high of adrenaline leaving her muscles, no way to run from her brain’s whipped frenzy of thoughts. All she had to calm her down was Bastion’s dark voice in her ear as she was carried like a drunk loser from Daniels.
She had lost. Fucked up miserably.
Why didn’t Bastion yell at her as she deserved? At least he was talking to her. War hadn’t said another word since he had thrown her over his shoulder, marching silently and rapidly to his house.
The backpack slid on her shoulders a bit and bopped the back of her head with each step, but she was too intimidated by his palpable upset in his grip to say anything about the small discomfort. She hoped Ruby wasn’t home, didn’t even want to think about anyone seeing her like this, helpless.
Don’t show the wolves fear. They’ll tear you apart.
She had kept it together in the bar; stopped any of those society dregs from catching the scent of fresh prey as she walked into the darkness and searched for the predator that had left its marks on her mother’s back. The barkeeper had taken a look at Tess’s schoolgirl kilt and her eyebrows had arched up, hand reaching to point her back out the door until she got a better look at Tess’s face.
Tess had marched right up to the bar and ordered a Pepsi and ten minutes, letting every ounce of angry desperation choking her throat buy her a chance. The barkeeper stared at her a long twenty seconds and filled the Pepsi from the fountain, spraying the sweet, dark drink while she slid a glance towards the booths at the far side.
“You got your mom’s eyes. Rachel’s her contact,” the barkeeper said. “Is your mom dead?” was asked with the same curiosity spared for reciting the soup special of the day.
It had been a strange mix of not giving a damn and a glimmer of pity. The barkeeper’s attitude helped set Tess’s own, straightening her spine and hiding the desperation in her eyes by letting the anger turn her gaze into a glare. She turned to the booths and almost immediately spotted her contact.
The gut punch was easier to absorb with her defences stocked.
Daddy’s Girl.
Funny, she didn’t even know the name of her father’s girlfriend until that moment. Tess recognized her, though, maybe five years older than herself, with enough makeup on to be aged a decade more and big enough tits on display to draw attention from her garish red lips, currently pursed around a vape pen with glittering pink stones.
Tess turned back to the barkeeper and took the Pepsi glass, digging into her pocket for change to pay and putting the coins on the bar. Her mother had chewed Rachel up and spat her out two years ago, reporting her for stealing some cash and jewelry. It had been petty theft but Rachel was caught on the landlord’s outside camera breaking in.
The bigger embarrassment had been dad’s jailbait girlfriend getting booked by his old pals in the precinct, a little revenge for Tess’s mother that she had probably enjoyed. Dad had taken everything else from them, pride being one of the first things her mother had to sacrifice to get out from under his abusive thumb.
Tess remembered daddy’s girl, as Rachel had called herself, screaming at her mother the next day, furious at being arrested and determined to make a scene. A drama that Tess had been young enough to find curious instead of trite, peeking down the hallway to where her mother was holding the door from being fully opened and blocking the way.
“Crazy bitch. He’s gonna put Tiffany on my finger. I don’t need your fucking castoffs. You set me up. Trying to bleed him to feed those spoiled brats. You ain’t gonna see a penny.”
Tess had frozen in the hallway, trying to decide if she should duck back into the kitchen or confront the lady screaming at her mother.
“Hey, you. Look at that little slut. Fucking private school uniform. You ain’t gonna be worth more than a couple of fivers for a quick blow in a few years. We ain’t sending your fancy ass to college on our dime. I’m daddy’s girl now.”
Her mother was never violent but she bitched slapped daddy’s girl hard enough to bloody that foul mouth and slammed the door shut.
Tess had been shipped to boarding at her scholarship school not long afterwards. It had already been planned out but Tess wondered if her mother stopped fighting the plan after that day, something that Rachel had said either motivating her mother’s determination to see Tess go to university, or conversely, making her mother fear an unknown future. They hadn’t talked about it, Tess more than happy to leave the ups and downs of home life for the stability the school provided.
The twins had been too young to make the same decision. Neither of them had the grades that Tess had achieved, perfectly average, but they were missing the whip Tess had been given as well. Her father never laid a hand on the twins, content to
poison Tess’s childhood alone. He hated her, always.
“Who is she?” Bastion asked, his voice in her ear drawing her out of her memories.
She sniffed, not caring if War figured out she was crying on the back of his shoulder. He had chosen to lug her around with the sensitivity of a neanderthal, so he could pay the tearful price of his actions.
“I’m not talking to you,” Tess mumbled. She had been giving him the silent treatment, enduring the lecture. Mostly, she wished War would give up and let her find her own way home. Things were so much worse than she could have ever imagined. The less these guys knew, the better. Tess had learned an important lesson from her childhood when her mother let her go to boarding school.
Tough love meant keeping someone you cared for safe by not showing you cared at all. Or more colloquially, hide ‘em in plain sight.
Of course, her mother hadn’t mentioned the problems she was having with Rachel or good ole’ dad. If Tess had stayed at school and her mother wasn’t admitted to the hospital with the mental breakdown, this would have kept on happening. The blackmail, or whatever Rachel was doing, meeting her mother at Daniels and collecting money, or else her mother wasn’t going to pass go.
“You don’t want to talk?” Bastion whispered. She could hear the sounds of a party, more than one conversation and some soft jazz music. “No, I’m done with Phoenix club,” she said, drawing strength from knowing now what she had to do. Seeing War in Daniels had been almost as much of a shock as seeing Rachel.
“Why the sudden change in mind?” Bastion calmly inquired. There was less noise now. He must be going somewhere away from the party so they could talk.
“I don’t need to explain myself to you,” she said “War, put me down. This is getting ridiculous.”
“You done digging your hole already?” War said, the pace not slowing one bit.
“Bastion’s busy at some party. He says we can talk tomorrow,” Tess lied. “I’ve got a headache from you hanging me upside down.”
Impetuous (Victory Lap Book 1) Page 34
