Beauty in Deception

“You want me to take a bashing for Warren’s daughter?” he asks, following my example by taking off his leather jacket.

“No one touches her but me. She’s mine to deal with. Is that clear?”

I take a punch at him before the last word is out. My fist connects with his jaw. He stumbles into the pool table, making the balls rattle.

Andrew grabs his beer and retreats to the far end of the room. He knows when to keep out of our fights.

Mateo charges. I duck. His fist swings past my ribs. I’m bigger and bulkier, but he’s lighter on his feet. Before I can plant my fist in his stomach, he sidesteps and hooks a punch under my chin. The blow makes my teeth clack. I land another punch on his nose, hearing the cracking of the cartilage as he loses his balance and falls on his ass.

I offer him a hand. “Get up.”

Clenching his jaw, he grabs my palm and allows me to pull him up. The minute he’s on his feet, he slams a punch into my shoulder. I get one in on his cheekbone, splitting the skin. A dribble of blood runs from his nose and his cheek. He wipes it away before catching me off guard with a head butt that jerks my neck and chatter my teeth.

“Time out,” Andrew says.

We both look at him.

“He’s bleeding.” He points a finger at Mateo. “Game over, guys.”

Mateo pushes two fingers under his nose and curses under his breath.

That’s our rule. At the first blood, we stop.

I don’t feel like stopping, though.

Andrew goes to the bar fridge, takes out a bag of ice, and throws it at Mateo who catches it in midair. My cousin pours a scotch and carries it to me.

“You owe him an apology, Mat,” Andrew says.

Just as well my cousin is a peacekeeper. The urge to inflict more damage still pumps with fighting adrenaline through my body.

“It won’t happen again,” Mateo says, glaring at me as he presses the ice on his cheek.

“Apology accepted,” I grit out.

“You better have a drink, Roman,” Andrew says. “You can’t fight each other. The war is much bigger than the two of you.”

Mateo dumps the ice on the counter and picks up his cue. “You break, Andrew.”

Tough bastard.

“Want to play, Roman?” Andrew asks.

I don’t bother to answer. I down the scotch and pour another before going to the bathroom to clean up. Surprisingly, we haven’t broken any furniture. Mateo and I don’t fight often, but when we do, there’s usually a lot more broken than his nose.

When I get back to the bar, I sip my drink, checking my watch every five minutes.

After a good forty minutes, the doctor knocks on the door. “All done.”

I leave my drink on the counter. “I’ll walk you out.”

“The cut isn’t infected,” he says, making his way with long strides to the front door. “Apply the ointment for another couple of days and make sure she finishes the course of antibiotics, and it should be fine.” He gives me a chiding look. “The stitches look like they’ve been sewed by a bloody butcher. You should’ve let me take care of that. Not even tissue oil is going to prevent a scar.” He adds in his baritone voice, “And it’ll be a nasty one.”

That pains me. If it bothers Evie, there’s always plastic surgery.

We stop at the door.

“What about the other issues?” I ask.

He regards me from under his graying eyebrows. “I’ll have the test results for you in twenty-four hours.”

“I appreciate that.”

He shakes my hand and leaves.

Just as I close the door, Evie comes charging down the stairs, no doubt hurting her feet with the speed and force of her steps.

Stopping in front of me with quivering nostrils, she draws back an arm and slaps me across the face. I saw it coming. I could’ve easily deflected the blow, but she deserves the outlet for her anger.

“How could you?” she asks, her cheeks burning red with either anger or humiliation. Maybe both.

“How could I make sure it’s safe to have sex with you?”

She balls her hands at her sides. “Unprotected sex.”

I lean closer, putting my lips next to her ear. “You didn’t think I’d let a rubber get between us when I bury my cock in your pussy for the first time?”

She lifts her arm again, but she’s had her vent. This time, I catch her wrist. “Do not hit me again, Evie. I won’t let the second time go unpunished. The experience will be pleasant for me. Not so much for you.”

She yanks from my hold. “I don’t have diseases.”

My tone is hard and cold, betraying my anger and unjustified jealousy. “How many men did you let inside your body?”

“One,” she says, spitting the word at me. “Not that it’s any of your business.”