Page 11 of Deadly Sins
She opened her mouth to retort, but before she could utter a word, a gruff voice cut through the din of the tavern. “You two stick out like a couple sore thumbs.”
She turned, her gaze falling on three men who had materialized at their table. They were built like linebackers, with faces that looked like they’d been carved from the rugged landscape outside.
A fourth guy, bigger still, stood off to the side, glowering beneath a greasy beanie. Hard to make out his expression behind the outsized black beard hanging down to his chest. If it came to it, he’d be trouble.
The one in the middle, a man with a salt-and-pepper beard and a jagged scar that ran from his left eyebrow to his jawline, fixed Fenn with a look that could have frozen a lesser man in his tracks.
Fenn, however, seemed unfazed, his posture relaxed but alert, like a coiled spring ready to unwind at a moment’s notice. “We must have missed the memo about the dress code,” hequipped, his tone light but his eyes never leaving the leader’s face.
The man’s lip curled, his gaze flicking between the two of them with a mixture of disdain and suspicion. “We don’t much like outsiders.”
Kate’s fingers twitched, itching to reach for the knife she kept concealed in her boot. But she forced herself to remain still, to keep her expression neutral. “We’re not here to cause any trouble,” she said evenly, holding the man’s gaze. “Just passing through.”
The man snorted, a harsh, humorless sound. “Not quick enough.”
Fenn leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, his eyes glinting with a challenge. “Well, I guess we’ll have to work on our cardio. But in the meantime, how about we settle this like gentlemen? Loser buys the next round. I’m a root beer guy myself, so it won’t cost you too much.”
Kate shot him a warning look, but the damage was done. The man’s face darkened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “You think you’re funny, dude? Let’s see how well you joke with a few less teeth in your head.”
The tension in the air was palpable, the other patrons of the tavern falling silent as they watched the confrontation unfold. The first three looked ready for a fight, but at least the big man in the back had stayed put. Watching, but not gearing up to jump in. Kate could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins, her mind racing as she calculated the best way to defuse the situation before it escalated into violence.
But Fenn, as always, had a different approach in mind.
“Saw you saying your little prayer before eating. You some kind of religious nut or something?”
Fenn straightened, his posture relaxed but alert. “Just giving thanks for the meal, friend.”
The man scoffed, his lip curling in disgust. “Friend? Not likely.”
Kate stepped forward, her hand tightening around her pool cue. “Is there a problem here?”
The leader’s eyes raked over her, a lecherous grin spreading across his face. “Well, looky here. Fresh meat in town. And ain’t she a pretty one?”
Fenn moved to stand beside her, his shoulder brushing against hers. “Nice,” he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I know you can handle yourself, but how about we ignore them?” he advised, his voice low. “We don’t need the trouble.”
He was right. She could take these men down without breaking a sweat, but causing a scene would only draw unwanted attention. She forced herself to take a deep breath, to unclench her fists and relax her stance.
But then, just as they were turning back to their game, one of the men stuck out his foot, sending Fenn tumbling backwards. He hit the ground hard, the breath whooshing out of his lungs.
Kate saw red.
She lunged at the man, her fist connecting with his jaw with a satisfying crack. He stumbled back, his eyes wide with shock and fury.
But before she could press her advantage, Fenn was there, his arms wrapping around her waist and hauling her back. “Whoa there, tiger,” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. “Let’s not start World War III over a little trip.”
He turned to the goon, his hands held up in a placating gesture. “Hey, no harm done. Let’s just chalk it up to a misunderstanding and call it a night, okay?”
The man glared at them, his fists clenched at his sides.
Moving fast for a big man, the bartender slipped between them. “Ease back now, Barnsdale. If I remember right, this is the only bar in the territory where you’re still welcome.”
For a moment, Kate thought Barnsdale was going to shove the bartender aside and take a swing at Fenn. But then, with a muttered curse, he turned and stalked away, his friends trailing behind him.
Kate watched them leave, her heart pounding in her chest. “We should go.”
“And rendezvous with those goons outside? I don’t think so.” Wincing, Fenn grabbed his pool cue. “Besides, we’re not done with our game.”
Not quite. But the way Fenn played, he’d run the table on this shot. Or his next. She’d be happy to keep the cue ball on the table.