“I think it’s creepier than that guy who was just here,” Vanessa said. “I’m twenty-one years old. I don’t need a babysitter.”
Conway remained quiet, doing his best to blend into the background and go unnoticed.
The subject changed, and we talked about one of Vanessa’s art classes. The girls went to school with her, so that’s where they met. They were all aspiring artists, and it reminded me of my college years. I met a lot of people who were trying to find their way in the world. Even in a different discipline, that feeling was the same.
“Ooh…” Vanessa nodded to another booth in the corner. “Check out that guy in the leather jacket.”
We all turned to look. In tight jeans with dark hair and a muscular build, a guy approached the booth with a few buddies. They were all drinking beer. The guy Vanessa noticed had stubble across his face and dark eyes. He was definitely a looker, but I wouldn’t have noticed him if she hadn’t pointed him out.
“Damn, look at that tight ass,” Stephanie said.
“Ooh, his friend is cute too,” Laura said.
He reminded me of Conway in many ways, but a watered-down version. “Yeah, he’s cute.”
Conway turned his gaze on me—and he was pissed.
I felt the ferocity in his look. It was ice-cold and burning with a raging fire at the same time, and he looked like he might strangle me. If we were alone, he probably would have a few words to add to that look.
“Are you going to talk to him?” Laura asked.
“Definitely.” Vanessa fixed her hair and then checked her lipstick with her compact.
Conway let out a quiet sigh, one packed with irritation.
“Wish me luck.” Vanessa pressed her lips together to get her lipstick just right. Then she started to slide out of the booth.
“You don’t just hit on some random dude in a bar.” Conway was supposed to be staying quiet, but he obviously couldn’t keep his promise when his sister was trying to get some action.
“And where would you like me to do it?” she asked. “In a convent?”
I did my best to hide the smirk from my face.
“You have no idea who this guy is,” Conway snapped. “He could be a rapist or something.”
“You think a fine-ass man like that needs to rape people to get laid?” Vanessa snapped. “You’re ridiculous, Conway.”
“Vanessa—”
I gripped his forearm. “Let it go, Conway.”
Vanessa slid out of the booth and strutted toward the man she had her eyes set on.
Conway watched them like a hawk, his chest rising and falling slowly with barely restrained rage. “She’s so fucking stupid.”
“She’s a single woman looking for action,” I said. “Nothing wrong with that.”
“There’s everything wrong with it,” he snapped. “She shouldn’t be acting this way.”
“So it’s okay for you to do it but not her? I didn’t realize you were so sexist.”
“I’m not sexist.” He kept his voice low so we couldn’t be overheard. “My whole business is based on women walking around half naked. Obviously, I’m not sexist. The person I depend on most is a woman. I just don’t like this…”
“You have to let it go, Conway. She’s a grown woman.”
“I just…” He watched Vanessa get the man’s attention and start a conversation. The guy smiled down at her while holding his beer. She must have said something funny because he responded with a chuckle. “I don’t want anyone to hurt her.”
“Everyone gets their heart broken. It’s how life is.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“Not every man is evil, Conway. There are men out there like Knuckles and the Skull Kings, but there are good men out there too.”
“All men are evil,” he said quietly. “Just in different degrees.”
“Your father doesn’t seem evil.”
Conway turned away, obviously not wanting to open that subject.
Vanessa continued her conversation with the guy, and they seemed to be hitting it off. When he wasn’t laughing, he was smiling down at her. His eyes held the same excitement, like he was genuinely interested in their conversation.
How could he not be? Vanessa looked more like a model than I did.
A man appeared at Conway’s side and placed his hand on his shoulder.
I knew only someone close to him would touch him like that, unless they wanted their skull to be crushed under his boot.
The man looked to be in his fifties, and he smiled down at Conway with affection. There were obvious similarities between them, from the color of their hair and eyes to the features of their faces.
They were definitely related.
Once Conway recognized him, the tension in his shoulders died away. “Uncle.” Conway slid out of the booth and straightened to his full height. He was the same size as his uncle, tall with a lean and toned appearance. “How are you?”
“You look like you’re having a good time.” He glanced at me before he winked at Conway.