Judge (Shady Valley Henchmen 1)

And had I known, that would have probably been fair.

“She was like… sixteen or seventeen when I went away,” I explained. “And I’d only ever seen her from a distance. I had no fucking idea.”

I couldn’t help but wonder how much they knew.

That if they were aware their sister had been untouched before I put my dirty hands all over her.

With the way they protected her, I doubt it would have even been possible for her to have a boyfriend in the past.

A boyfriend.

Someone who loved her and knew the situation. That was how she was supposed to lose her virginity. Not to an old enforcer, current gun-running biker on a filthy table in an abandoned building.

Another wave of guilt moved through me. It hadn’t exactly been uncommon over the past couple of days.

My body had been busy, sure, but it was grunt work. Which meant my mind was free to wander.

And it wandered to her.

It was weird as fuck.

I mean, I could barely remember names and locations of past encounters. I damn sure never harped on them after the fact.

Because, typically, it was onto the next.

Maybe that was the difference here.

The night after, even with all the available women around, some even putting on a show of playing with one another, my cock had stayed stubbornly uninterested.

Dell was the first pussy I’d gotten in four years. That was all it came down to.

Once I got more under my belt, I was sure I would stop thinking about her.

“Go ice that eye,” Sway said, clapping me hard on the shoulder, making my ribs scream, which only made him chuckle. “We are hitting up the pool hall tonight.”

“The pool hall?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Sway said, turning back. “Do yourself a favor and try not to fuck the relatives of the Bratva, yeah?” he asked, laughing as he made his way back into the clubhouse.

Even as I went through the process of wrapping my ribs and cleaning up the wounds on my face, though, all I thought about was that soft body, those sweet moans as I ate her out, the way her pussy felt wrapped around my cock.

“Fucking hell,” I hissed, promising myself that I would find some woman at the pool hall, take her home, and fuck Delaney Murphy out of my system.

“Ready?” Sway asked as I made my way down to the main floor.

“Yep. Anything I need to know walking into that place?” I asked. “Any Bratva wives I need to avoid?”

“Nah, they’re not married. They do have two sisters, but they’re in Russia visiting family right now. You should be able to avoid an ass-kicking.”

I hadn’t been around for long enough to actually get to know much about the Russians who had taken out my old bosses.

But, well, all the Bratva I’d ever met were similar. Cold. Hard. Ruthless. But up for a good time.

I imagined the crew who had taken over the drug trade after they killed or chased off the rest of the Albanians were like the rest I’d known.

Which meant that so long as I didn’t fuck with their business or get caught disrespecting them, I had nothing to worry about.

With that, we were on our way back to town. And I was going to go ahead and pretend like I didn’t look for her as we parked right out front of the pool hall. Which was situated next to the damn bar.

From the outside, it looked the same as always. The front windows were covered in thick privacy film so no one outside could see in. The sign was even the same.

Shady Valley Pool Hall.

Why mess with a classic, I guess?

The inside, though, had been fully renovated.

Back when I’d known it, it had been a seedy location with worn green felt on the tables and yellowed walls.

But the Novikoff brothers clearly had a different plan for the place.

They’d somehow turned something very basic into an upscale establishment.

They clearly preferred the color black. The walls were matte black, the tables and the felt were all black, and even the wood floors were stained black.

But the lighting somehow managed to make it not seem oppressive. Each table had its own rectangular chandelier. Running along the crown molding up top was hidden strip lighting that added some more warmth to the cool space.

To the back left was a snack bar manned by a gorgeous redhead in a tight black dress.

To the right, where there had once been a smaller billiards room, was clearly the owners’ personal hangout spot. There were desks as well as chairs and couches. And a bodyguard in a black suit standing in the doorway in case anyone got ideas about trying to enter.

The Novikoff brothers were nowhere to be seen, though.

It, like The Bog next door, was busy even on an off night.

The crowd was more mixed, though, since there was no liquor license. Teens mingled among the college-aged kids and the adults looking to unwind after work.