Ruthless Saints

“Sexy American,” the stocky one says, and the lust in his eyes makes my guard go up.

I quickly place the glasses in front of them, and as I lift the tray, he grabs hold of my arm. “German men are good in bed.”

Ugh.

I pull my arm free. “I’m not interested. I have a boyfriend.”

Fourteen minutes and counting, then I can go back to the cabin I’m renting and soak in a nice hot bath.

CARSON

Drunken laughter sounds up, and slowly I glance at the two men who are downing one beer after the other. I made a point of knowing who lives in Saint Luc, and having never seen them before, I figure they’re tourists.

Saint Luc only has a population of around four hundred people, so it’s easy to spot a new face.

Hailey walks in my direction. Her bright smile has lost its sparkle during the course of the night.

I miss it. It’s like the sun set too soon before I was done looking at it.

“Are you still okay with your drink?” she asks.

I tilt my head, and wanting to see her smile again, the corner of my mouth curves up. “Yes, I’m leaving after this one.”

I get my smile as she checks the time on her watch.

“Sexy American,” one of the drunken tourists shouts. “More beer and a lap dance.”

For a moment, her eyes drift shut, and her features tighten, then she forces a smile and calls to Lars, who’s working the other side of the bar, “Can you get their order, please?”

Lars nods, and then Hailey focuses her attention on me. “Sorry, should I bring your tab?”

I nod.

She walks away, and then my eyes go back to the two men who are being loud.

Being a predator by nature, I can spot one quickly. Though they look harmless, the amounts of beer they’ve consumed might make them more daring than usual.

They keep looking at Hailey, their eyes roving over her as if she’s a piece of meat.

It’s rare to come across someone like Hailey in my world. Her smile brightens the darkness. Her innocence and good nature are the total opposite of my blood-stained hands and ruthlessness.

Usually, I wouldn’t give a fuck about another human being, but I’d hate to see someone like her lose her sparkle.

Hailey comes back to me and sets the tab down on the counter.

Taking out my wallet, I remove some cash, then lifting my eyes to hers, I ask, “Do you live nearby?”

“I’m renting a place on Sentier Des Grants,” she answers.

It’s not too far. Five minutes at most. But it’s twelve am, and she’s a woman alone.

“Sexy American,” the drunkards call again, “come here.”

I place enough cash to include a tip for Hailey on the table, then rise to my feet.

“Thanks,” she smiles, and gathering the cash, she returns to work.

As I pass by the tourists' table, I hear the one say in German, “I’m first. I’m not sticking my dick into a hole yours has been in.”

“Do you think she’ll be okay with a threesome?” the friend asks.

The stockier one chuckles, but it sounds more like a threat. “Doesn’t matter.”

I roll my shoulders and fist my hands so I don’t yank the fucker over the table and kill him right on the spot.

I might be a killer, but like my brother, I live by a code. We don’t hurt the innocent, especially not women, and hearing what they’re planning pushes all the wrong buttons with me.

Walking out of the establishment and into the cold night, I take a deep breath of the fresh air.

My quota for mingling with people has been filled for the week. Enough to set the town’s people at ease, so they see me as one of them, but not too much to stand out.

I glance around at the mostly dark streets.

Hailey probably won’t even make it around the corner with what those fuckers have planned.

The thought keeps me from going home.

Soon people begin to trickle out of the bar, and I move to the side. I lean back against the wall and cross my arms over my chest.

What are you doing, Carson?

Rowdy laughter from the doorway tells me the drunk tourists are leaving, and I glance at them.

“Let’s wait down there for her, then we follow her to her place,” the bigger one of the two says.

“She’s fucking hot,” his friend chuckles, rubbing his hands together with premature excitement as they walk down the street.

I push away from the wall and follow after them. They keep talking shit, being crass about what they want to do to Hailey.

Scum.

“Have a good night, Lars. See you tomorrow,” I hear Hailey call behind me, and glancing over my shoulder, I watch as she steps out of the bar.

Turning my attention back to the Germans, it’s just in time to see them dart into a dark alley. Picking up my pace, I head in after them.