Page 56 of Feral
People scatter as we pass, clearly avoiding us, and I don’t blame them. Syn, Thorn, and Hale are intimidating as fuck, and even Bowie and Kyson have an edge to them.
“I was looking forward to my shift tonight.”
Hale grabs my hand, squeezing it. “There’ll be plenty more.”
“I know, but…I wanted more of you. I wanted to show off.”
“Show off to who?”
“Everyone. The first guy I ever like and I bag someone like you? I can’t believe my luck.”
“It wasn’t luck.” He kisses my cheek quickly. “That I’m sure of.”
Maybe he’s right and all of this was destined to happen. I’ve never been one to believe in that kind of stuff when it comes to romance, but I might be coming around.
“And you can show me off all you like if I can do the same. It’s me who’s full of pride to have you on my arm.”
“Charmer.”
He smiles, but it fades quickly as we arrive at the corner store. Three guys take one look at us and take off running, but Thorn and Syn are right on them, dragging them back and shoving them against the wall.
“What the fuck?” one of them says. “We didn’t do nothing, man. What are cops doing here anyway?”
“Who the fuck are you calling cops?” Thorn snarls. “Seriously?”
“Detectives?” one of the others says. “We didn’t see nothing.”
“Yes, you did,” I say, standing next to Hale. “You saw what they did to me earlier.”
The one Thorn is holding against the wall by the neck peers at me for a second with a creased brow before recognition seems to hit him. “Oh man. You’re not dead?”
“Not dead.”
“How?” the other asks. “That was brutal.”
“Don’t worry about the details,” Hale says. “Tell us where we can find the Bianchi crew.”
All three men go silent. Syn slams one of them against the wall, making him cough.
“Speak up,” he demands.
“No way, man,” the guy says, rubbing his chest. “They’ll kill us if they find out we ratted.”
“We’ll kill you first,” Hale says, his voice low and growly.
That shouldn’t turn me on, but can someone clue my dick in on that? I stare at Hale like he’s a superhero, and in some ways, I guess he kind of is.
“The Bianchis are the least of your problems right now,” Thorn says, baring his still human looking teeth. “You don’t want to piss me off.”
“You really wouldn’t like him when he’s angry,” Kyson says, making Bowie snort a laugh.
“Fuck off,” the third guy says, even as Syn glares at him. “We ain’t saying shit.”
“Last chance,” Thorn warns.
The three men stay silent, but even I can tell they’re nervous as fuck. Thorn twists his neck back and forth, but pauses, glancing at Syn.
“Would you like to do the honors?”