Siren's Mark

Chapter 12

ℤ𝕒𝕟𝕖

I take a sip of what I think is a martini then hand it back to Kieran.

That is really not my drink.

"There you go, mate," I say. "Have fun."

"Thanks, bro," he says with a devious look in his eye.

I wash it down with another sip of my beer. Kieran delivers the glass to his latest conquest—a thin-yet-muscular gentleman with curly hair sitting several stools down from me. I give it five minutes max before they disappear to the back room.

It's probably time for me to head home anyway. I might text Ava and see what she's up to, if she's still awake.

"So, if it isn't the British dude who fucked my girlfriend..." a slurring, drunk voice says from behind me.

I'd assume he was talking to Kieran if he hadn't said British. I don't bother turning around to engage with whoever this is.

"Oi, you got the wrong 'British dude,' mate," I say.

"Do you fuck that many men's girlfriends that you've lost track?" he says with a drunken mumble.

"Mate, you're clearly pissed off your arse."

Kieran chuckles to himself, but his laugh seems to fade and his expression morphs into a devious smirk.

"Oh, this just got interesting," Kieran says. He turns to his latest target and says, "Don't you go anywhere, gorgeous. I just have to see how this goes down."

What does Kieran think I'm going to do? I bust up a guy in the bar one time, and now he thinks I'm going to get into a fistfight with every drunkard I meet?

The guy leans into the bar next to me and sets a beer on the counter. He's got a smug, basic white guy face that I can't seem to place.

"You know what, you did me a favor. Apparently Ava is a massive whore anyway."

Oh fuck. This twat is Mike.

"You don't know what you're fucking talking about," I say with an eye roll.

He's trying to get a rise out of me, but I didn't have sex with Ava—let alone when they were together—and I especially don't care what this wanker thinks of her.

"Oh yeah?" he asks. "So you want me to believe you didn't fuck my girlfriend?"

Kieran is watching with a sly smirk. He's just waiting to see if I'll lose my cool.

"I don't think you have a girlfriend, mate," I say, taking another sip of my beer.

Kieran busts up laughing.

"Yeah, thanks to some British son of a bitch who doesn't respect other people's property," he snaps.

"Again, pretty sure you don't have any property." I turn slightly toward him to make eye contact and smile.

"If I wasn't fucking clear," he says, jabbing my shoulder with his fingers, "when I stuck my dick in her that made her my property."

In a flash, I've got the collar of his shirt twisted up in my fist. He struggles to breathe as the fabric tightens around his neck.

"Okay, okay," Kieran says, putting a hand on my chest and turning to address Mike. "This has been fun, dude—it really has—but you seriously have no idea what you're doing here. I'd prefer not to have to clean your brains off the walls."

Kieran leans into me and whispers, "Remember what Kami said? About trying not to draw unwanted attention?"

I loosen my grip on Mike's collar, his face already a deep red. His eyes are bulging with panic. I exhale hard and release him. He takes several steps back and readjusts his shirt.