Crown of Sins - Chaelisa

-Chapter Nine-

*Roseanne's POV*

I wonder how many traffic laws Lisa breaks to get here as fast as she does. Because it must be a record.

My eyes are on the door from the moment we hang up until she's here. But I don't have to wait very long. And I don't know how, but she's already looking at me as she walks in.

Something about the look on her face, in those annoyingly gorgeous gray eyes does things to me. It's like there's a red string tied inside of me at one end, being pulled by the other side...by her.

The scene has changed in the few minutes she sped here, though. So when she moves faster than I imagined she could over to the bar, to me, I'm overwhelmingly thankful.

I know she sees the guy pointed at me on top of the bar top. No one else has noticed, not that I wanted any attention on it. The worst part might be that the guy holding the gun looks too young to be in here legally. He's got acne, and the hunched shoulders of someone who spent too much time being picked on, walked over. Maybe that's part of why he holds the metal trigger, cocked and ready, so confidently.

It gives him the power he's craved for too long. These are the types of guys in lower rungs of The Scions. Vulnerable, but not dumb. And loyal as fuck. There's a drink on either side of his hand, and he's sitting in the stool in the most shadow at the bar.

The other two bartenders I sent off on breaks didn't even notice before they left for a smoke out back. Not even Caleb has noticed what's really happening. Not yet.

But Lisa does. Before she's even over here. He sees, and I see the wheels turning in her head, figuring out what to do in the few seconds it takes her to make it over here.

"Hey, buddy," Lisa says as she comes up behind my would-be attacker. But he's downgraded to attempted-intimidator when he flinches as Lisa claps a hand on his shoulder. "What's your name?" she asks then.

"Andy," our new friend says on what sounds like an inhale. I bite the corner of my lip hard enough to taste blood, so I don't laugh. Because this still isn't funny. It's especially not funny when the guy's blonde eyebrows pull together and his hand starts shaking. So I don't know why there's a part of my that wants to smile and start cackling.

"Rosie can I get something strong?" Lisa asks with hard eyes locked on mine.

I nod, still not smiling even though that version of my name on her lips is like a lightning bolt straight to very specific parts of me.

But I don't have time to think about that now. I try to walk like normal, not as mechanical as I feel, down to the other end of the bar. It's easier the farther I get from the gun. Not that I'm out of range, but the bad end hasn't followed me. Yet.

As I grab what I need, glasses and ice and bottles, my eyes remain on Lisa's. His lips aren't moving, but she's telling me paragraphs, volumes, with that damn steely stare.

I suppress a shiver as I walk back toward her. It's too bad that it's also back toward Andy and the gun. But you win some, you lose some.

I don't go quite back to where I stood before, though. I keep two steps to the side and set down two drinks on the bar. I'm a lot less worried about the gun now, even if I shouldn't be.

I'd bet every bit of money I'm worth that Lisa is faster with her firearm than this teenager. Because as his hand continues to shake, moving up his arm now, I'm sure he's not even twenty.

"Don't be rude. This gorgeous woman made you a drink," Lisa says, finally moving from where her grip was clamped down on one shoulder to sit down in the empty stool right next to him, closer to me.

With his nondominant hand he grabs the glass I poured for him and slams it back, Lisa's eyes open the whole time.

Andy's other hand comes up slowly to grab his glass, it trembling as much as the other. When the glass touches his lips he closes his eyes, probably trying to block out the horrible turn of events, and as he sips at the dark liquid in his glass he cringes.

Rude. I make great drinks.

"Drink up," Lisa reminds him as her hand now free of a drink goes back to Andy's shoulder. "And then I want you and every one of your friends to leave this club. Or I will personally shoot you in the dick, consequences with internal affairs be damned."

Lisa's voice gets deeper, lower, the kind of gruff that rubs itself along the insides of my thighs, the longer she talks to this kid.

"It won't kill you, though. So you can stop blinking so fast. It will only make you wish you were dead," Lisa adds. This time she's louder, but there somehow more gravel added as her intensity goes up.

Andy sets his glass down, no longer able to choke back the top-shelf booze I poured him. He's probably a twist and soda kind of guy. Or maybe just seltzers.

And, as he sets the glass onto the counter, he swivels his shoulder, trying to shake Lisa's grip off of him. Not that it works. I watch as Lisa's knuckles lighten a little more as she just squeezes righter.

"Fine," the kid says as he picks up his glass once more. He tips the entire thing back and gulps. For a moment I worry it's going to come right back up, but he keeps it down. That's one big conciliation for tonight. I cannot handle vomit. I'd rather face the gun.

Then Andy is standing, Lisa moving with him still not letting go just yet. "And don't come back," Lisa adds as she finally lets Andy step away.

Then there's a sharp, loud whistle coming from the kid's thin lips as he starts moving toward the door. It pierces my ears, and somehow makes heads turn despite the music and general background noise of a strip bar.

A dozen other guys follow Andy out of my club. And I will never admit just how epically Lisa saved me. Even if we both know it, which of course we fucking do, but as the last Scion leaves, I know the words will never come from my lips that I needed her saving.

Which, for some stupid reason, pisses me off as much as it turns me on, as those gray eyes find mind again.