And then there was Gin, whom I'd wounded the worst. Because she'd saved us all from Salina's twisted revenge scheme, and I'd turned my back on her like a fool. I'd lashed out at Gin, when I should have been blaming myself for not protecting her and the others from Salina in the first place.
But the really sad thing, the really pathetic thing, the truly unforgivable thing, was that I'd known exactly what kind of stupid ass I was being that night at the Dubois estate. I'd known it the day I'd gone to see Gin at the Pork Pit and told her that I needed some time to think about things. And again when we'd talked in the moonlit gardens outside the Briartop museum, and she'd finally let me see how sick, weary, and hurt she was because of how I'd reacted to Salina's death. Gin had risked her life to rescue me at Salina's estate and then again at Briartop, and all I had done was wound her time and time again.
Gin didn't like folks to know it, and she especially didn't like them to see it, but she would do anything for the people she loved, including taking their emotional garbage. And I'd heaped a ton of it onto her shoulders instead of manning up and dealing with things myself - instead of killing Salina myself.
I loved Gin, but I'd known that she had some serious trust issues after Detective Donovan Caine had so coldly rejected her for being an assassin. But I'd seen her, and I'd wanted her, so I'd pursued her. And as I got to know Gin, as I fell in love with her, I had vowed to myself that I would never treat her as thoughtlessly as Donovan had. I would never judge or reject her for doing what she thought was right, for using her skills as the Spider to protect others.
But I'd done it all anyway. I loved Gin, but I'd still hurt her, and I didn't know if I could ever forgive myself for that.
Maybe Gin had made the wrong choice in Blue Marsh. Maybe she should have chosen Donovan instead of me. Maybe she should go home with one of the peacocks tonight and forget I ever existed.
Phillip was right. I was a fucking idiot. I'd had Gin's love, and I had been stupid enough to throw it away. It was all my fault, and I didn't know how to fix it. I didn't know how to fix myself, much less us.
I rubbed my hands over my face, trying to shake off the guilt. But that didn't work, it never worked, so I growled and punched the metal. I put a bit of magic behind the blow, leaving a fist-shaped dent in the door. I had an elemental talent for metal, could bend it and shape it any way that I wanted to. Right now, I felt like ripping the door off its hinges and sending wave after wave of my magic into it until the metal was crumpled up like a smushed soda can between my fingers -
The bathroom door banged open, and the heavy tread of footsteps sounded.
"Did you see that bitch brush me off?" a low voice growled. "I used all of my best lines on her, and she looked at me like I was some sort of gnat that was bothering her."
"Calm down, Stuart," another voice chimed in. "We knew that the direct approach might not work."
"I can have any woman in this club that I want, and she turns me down? Oh, hell, no," Stuart snarled. "If we hadn't been hired to kill her already, I would do it myself just because. She wouldn't think she was so high and mighty when my hands were wrapped around her throat."
Hired to kill her? I had a sinking feeling that I knew exactly who they were talking about: Gin.
Now that everyone in the underworld knew - or at least suspected - that she was the assassin the Spider, practically every crime boss in the city had tried to take Gin out and prove that they had the stones to be the new head of the Ashland crime scene. Of course, no one had succeeded yet, but that didn't keep them from trying . . . and trying . . . and trying. . . .
"So the Spider brushed you off," the second man said in a much calmer and colder voice. "It happens. She's a woman, just like any other. Who knows what they're really thinking? Most of them don't even know, and I, for one, don't care. But like you said, we were hired to kill her. Nothing else. So we'll just watch and wait until we see a chance to get her alone."
Well, not if I could help it. I'd already hurt Gin so much. I wasn't about to let these two losers ruin her night. My hand curled into a fist again, but this time, I didn't want to hit the door - I wanted to hit them.
But instead of giving in to my anger, I peered through the crack between the stall door and the frame to get a look at Gin's would-be attackers. One was the giant in the blue T-shirt whom I'd noticed hitting on her earlier. He took a comb out of his back pocket and ran it through his hair, making sure that every blond strand was greased back into place. Then he stared into the mirror and smiled, before cocking his head to the side and arching first one eyebrow, then the other, in a suggestive manner at his own reflection, as if he were trying to seduce himself. Did that lame come-hither look ever actually work for him? Arrogant, egotistical pretty boy. I was going to enjoy knocking his perfect teeth out of his mouth.
The other guy was a dwarf, but his chest and shoulders were even wider and more muscled than the giant's. He wore a black button-up shirt, dark brown khakis, and black boots. The dwarf's black hair was shaved close to his skull, more like stubble than anything else. A smile stretched across his mouth as he watched the giant groom himself. But there was something hollow in the dwarf's expression, and his lips were firmly curved up, like his smile had been painted onto his face. His light brown eyes were even colder and emptier than his smile. The giant might be a loudmouthed hothead, but the dwarf - the dwarf was the real threat.
"Fine, Richie," the giant, Stuart, snapped. He finished fixing his hair and slid his comb into his back pocket. "We'll wait until the time is right to make our move. But that bitch is mine. You got it?"
"Sure," Richie replied. "No problem. Better you get her blood on your clothes anyway."
Stuart frowned and looked down at his blue T-shirt, then over at Richie, as if he wasn't sure whether the dwarf was serious. "Do you think that I should go change real quick? I have some extra clothes in the car. This is my lucky T-shirt. Nobody says no to me in this T-shirt. It brings out the color of my eyes. All the ladies tell me so."
Stuart gave himself another sexy smirk in the mirror. Richie rolled his eyes. I would too, if I was saddled with an arrogant schmuck like that.
"If you're done thinking about how cute you are, we have work to do," Richie finally growled. "So let's get on with it."
Stuart opened his mouth, but he took one look at the other man's narrowed eyes and swallowed whatever he'd been about to say. "Sure, Richie. No problem. I'm done. After you."
The giant held out his hand in a placating gesture. Richie glared at him a second longer before opening the door and stepping out of the bathroom. Stuart gave himself one more appraising glance in the mirror before hurrying after the other man.
I waited a few seconds to make sure that they weren't coming back, then opened the stall door and followed them.
Chapter 4
Back out in the main part of the club, the two men ambled over to one of the tables close to the dance floor and turned their chairs so that they could see Gin, still sitting with Bria at the Ice bar.
I kept one eye on them as I hurried back over to Phillip's and my booth. While I'd been gone, our waitress had returned and was now leaning over with her elbows propped on the table, giving Phillip a bird's-eye view of all she had to offer, including the plump assets that were practically spilling out of the top of her black leather bustier.
I stepped up beside Sierra, but neither one of them even glanced in my direction. So I reached into my back pocket, pulled out my wallet, and put a hundred on the table.
"Sorry, but my friend and I have to go. That should cover our drinks."
"Go?" Phillip murmured, his eyes still fixed on Sierra's cleavage. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see. Now, come on."
Phillip kept ogling the waitress, so I reached down, grabbed his jacket sleeve, and pulled him onto his feet. I didn't have Phillip's natural strength, since he probably had some giant and dwarven blood in his veins, but I wasn't a lightweight either. In fact, ever since I'd broken up with Gin, I'd spent more time working in my forge than ever before, and I'd grown stronger, physically, at least, as I tried to clear my head and figure out some way to make things right between Gin and me. It hadn't worked, though. Nothing had.
Sierra realized that I was serious about leaving and taking Phillip with me. She smoothly palmed the hundred, flashed me a smile, and sashayed away, already on to the next table to ply her wares.
"Hey!" Phillip said, jerking away from me and smoothing down his jacket. "You could have just asked nicely. There's no need to get physical."
I arched an eyebrow at him. "This from a man who enjoys personally throwing people off his riverboat instead of letting his giant guards do it for him?"
Phillip grinned. "Do you not know how much fun that is? All you have to do is flip them over the side of the railing, listen to them scream, then wait for the splash. A few manage to go in feet first, but most of them do some sort of awkward, flailing belly flop, which only makes it that much more painful and the splash that much bigger. Splat. You can hear the sound all the way up to the top deck. I'm telling you, it's awesome to watch. Besides, I don't throw everybody off the riverboat. That would be bad for business. I only do it when people cheat. Or drink too much. Or fight with the staff. Or act like idiots. Or annoy me. Or - "
He would have kept ticking off more supposed infractions on his fingers if I hadn't shaken my head.
"Follow me," I said.
I started to walk away, but Phillip didn't move. Instead, he gave me a pointed look.
"What are you?" I growled. "Twelve?"
He responded by crossing his arms over his chest and rocking back on his heels.
I sighed, remembering exactly how stubborn he could be. "Fine. Please. Please follow me, your royal highness."
After a moment, Phillip grinned and uncrossed his arms. "See? Asking nicely doesn't hurt so much, now, does it? And I kind of like that whole royal highness thing. Yeah, I could definitely get used to you calling me that."
I snorted and walked away, but I must have asked him nicely enough, because Phillip trailed along beside me as best he could, given the crowd.
I scanned the crush of people, looking for Roslyn. I figured that since I was going to have a talk - and likely something much more violent - with two of her customers, I should give her a heads-up first. It was the polite thing to do. Besides, she'd want to know about the threat to Gin too, since the two of them were such close friends.
I didn't see Roslyn, but I spotted someone else I knew, a muscular giant with ebony skin and a shaved head that gleamed underneath the flashing lights. Xavier, the club's head bouncer and Roslyn's significant other. Suddenly, I had an idea of how to take care of Stuart and Richie with no one, especially Gin, being the wiser.
I veered in Xavier's direction. It took me a few minutes to sidestep through the crowd over to where he was standing by the entrance to the VIP section, but I made it, even if Phillip didn't.
My friend had gotten happily waylaid on the dance floor and was enthusiastically bumping and grinding his way past first one woman, then another. He'd get here eventually, though. I could always count on Phillip to be there for me when I really needed him, despite how horribly I'd failed him all those years ago by believing Salina over him. But I pushed that thought away. Now wasn't the time to think about what a mess I'd made of everything. Now was the time to act and to make sure that Gin stayed safe for the rest of the night.
"Xavier, what's up?" I asked.
He grinned, and we shook hands. Xavier had a firm, strong grip, even for a giant.
"Not much," he drawled, scanning the crowd for any signs of trouble. "Just another night of dancing, drinking, and debauchery."
Once he was satisfied that no one was going to kick up an immediate ruckus, he looked at me. He hesitated, his dark eyes meeting mine. "You know that Gin's here tonight, right?"
"Yeah. I saw her."
He didn't say anything else, and neither did I. Unlike Phillip, Xavier knew when not to push something.
"Is there something that I can do for you, Owen?" Xavier asked.
I jerked my head toward the tables that ringed the dance floor. "See that giant and dwarf sitting together?"
Stuart and Richie were at the same table as before, a couple of beers in front of them now. Richie still had his eyes fixed on Gin, watching her laugh and talk with Bria at the bar. Every once in a while, he would take a sip of his beer, and then he'd go right back to staring at Gin. That left Stuart free to ogle all of the waitresses as they walked by. He even gave a couple of them winks, as if he wasn't planning to coldly strangle a woman to death the second she left the club. A real charmer, that guy.
"What about them?" Xavier asked.
"Do you know them?"
He shrugged his massive shoulders. "I haven't seen the dwarf before, but Stuart's a regular. He's always coming in and sweet-talking every pretty thing who gets within spitting distance of him. He thinks he's more of a player than he really is, though, and when his game doesn't work on a lady, he tends to take it personally. He's been in his share of fights, with men and women alike, and I've warned him about harassing folks."
"Can you give me ten minutes, then throw them both out of the club?"
"Sure," Xavier said, cracking his knuckles. "I told Stuart not to show his face here for at least a month. That was three days ago. I was planning to let him order a couple more beers, so Roslyn could make a little money off him, before I showed him the door. Any particular reason you've taken a dislike to those guys?"
