Summary: Shane did what he had to do and looked good doing it! ( morally questionable men with good reflexes >>> )
By the time I reached the bar, Iâd almost talked myself into turning around.
The place looked exactly the way I remembered itâold wooden siding, a flickering neon beer sign that had probably been there since the early 2000s, and music loud enough to make holding a conversation feel like a full-time job.
I pulled the door open anyway.
Warm air, the smell of whiskey and cigarette smoke, and a chorus of laughter hit me all at once.
Some things really didnât change.
A few heads turned as I walked in. Small town. New face.
Or maybe not exactly new. Just one theyâd forgotten.
I ignored the stares and made my way to the bar.
âWhat can I get you?â the bartender asked, drying off a glass with a towel that looked older than I was.
âIf itâs terrible, donât tell me.â
âIâll pretend I didnât hear that.â
A few moments later, he set the glass down in front of me. I took a sip, and it burned going down. Perfect.
I leaned back against the bar and let my eyes wander around the room.
Pool table in the corner. A couple arguing over darts.
Someone absolutely butchering a country song on the jukebox.
He was standing near the pool table with a cue resting over one shoulder, laughing at something one of his friends had said. Tall. Confident. The kind of guy who looked like he knew exactly how much attention he gotâand enjoyed every second of it.
He caught me looking for maybe half a second, and instead of looking away like a normal person, he smirked.
Of course he did. I rolled my eyes and looked back at my drink.
Cocky. Definitely cocky. Exactly the kind of guy Iâd avoid if I had any common sense.
Unfortunately, common sense had never been my strongest quality.
The bartender refilled my glass without me asking.
âYou could say that.â
He raised an eyebrow but didnât push.
Good. I wasnât in the mood to explain my life story to a stranger.
One drink turned into two⊠Two turned into⊠honestly, I stopped counting.
I wasnât drunk, just pleasantly numb, which was probably the closest thing to celebrating my birthday that I was going to get.
Eventually, the noise inside started getting to me.
I slid a few bills across the counter, grabbed my phone, and headed for the door.
Fresh air sounded like a much better idea.
The night air felt a hell of a lot better than the noise inside.
I leaned against the wooden railing outside the bar and unlocked my phone, scrolling through my contacts without really seeing any of the names.
A few people Iâd worked with over the years.
It wasnât that I couldnât call any of them.
I sighed, locked my phone again, and slipped it back into my pocket.
âOut here all alone?â
Mid-thirties, maybe. Both carrying beer bottles, both wearing the kind of grin that immediately made me lose interest in whatever they were about to say.
âNot very friendly, are you?â
I looked him up and down.
âYou just havenât given me a reason.â
âSheâs got attitude.â
Neither of them took the hint.
Instead of walking away like any reasonable person would, they stepped a little closer.
âSoâŠâ the taller one said, âIâve never seen you around before.â
âYou always this hard to talk to?â
âOnly when Iâm trying to end the conversation.â
That earned me another laugh.
Apparently Iâd become tonightâs entertainment.
The shorter one leaned against the railing beside me.
âYou donât have to be like that.â
âAnd you donât have to keep standing so close, yet here we are.â
I could smell the beer on their breath.
One of them smiled in a way that immediately made my skin crawl.
âCâmon,â he said. âA pretty girl shouldnât spend her birthday alone.â
ââŠHow do you know itâs my birthday?â
He pointed toward the bartender inside.
âWell,â I said, ânow you know something else.â
âIâd still rather spend it alone.â
Their smiles faded. Good.
Maybe theyâd finallyâ
âYouâre kinda feisty.â
âIâve also got excellent aim.â
âI like âem feisty.â
I pushed myself off the railing.
I barely got two steps before someone caught my wrist. That did it. I looked down at his hand, then back at him.
âYouâve got exactly three seconds to let go before this turns into the worst decision youâve made all week.â
Instead of listening, he smiled. Wrong answer.
I looked down at his hand wrapped around my wrist, then back up at him.
âYouâve got one chance,â I said, my voice calm. âLet go.â
Instead, his grip tightened. His friend snorted.
âWhat are you gonna do? Hit me?â I smiled.
âI was thinking about dislocating your shoulder first.â
That wiped the grin off his face. For a second, then he laughed again.
âNo,â I replied. âYouâre just too drunk to realize Iâm serious.â
I shifted my weight slightly, already calculating the fastest way to break his grip. Under normal circumstances, I wouldâve had no problem dropping him where he stood.
Unfortunately three glasses of whiskey and good decision-making didnât exactly go hand in hand.
Before I could make up my mind, another voice cut through the silence.
âI think she told you to let go.â
The grip on my wrist loosened just enough for me to pull free. I took a step back, rubbing my wrist as all three of us turned toward the newcomer.
He was tallâproperly tall, the kind of height that made it annoying to argue with him just on principle. Dark hair, a little messy like he didnât care enough to fix it, and a face that looked like it had been put together with way too much confidence and not nearly enough consequences.
There was a faint shadow of stubble along his jaw, not quite a beard, not quite clean-shaven either, like heâd decided grooming was optional and somehow still made it work. His jacket hung open just enough to look casual rather than careless, and the way he stood thereâhands in his pockets, weight slightly shifted like he was bored alreadyâgave off this irritating impression that nothing in this situation was even slightly new to him.
The taller guy rolled his eyes.
âMind your own business.â
His gaze flicked to me for half a second before settling back on the two idiots.
âThen you grabbed her.â
âSo now itâs my business.â
I couldnât help it, I almost laughed, then the taller guy stepped closer to him.
âYou looking for a problem?â
The stranger tilted his head.
âBut if youâre offeringâŠâ
The taller man shoved him so hard I barely had time to blink before everything happened at once.
The stranger caught himself, sighedâactually sighed, like this whole thing was exhaustingâand drove his fist straight into the guyâs jaw.
The sound alone made me wince.
The second guy charged him without thinking.
That went about as well as youâd expect.
Within seconds, both men were on the ground, groaning and trying to remember what planet they were on. The stranger dusted off the sleeve of his jacket like heâd just finished taking out the trash.
I stared at him for a moment.
Up close, he looked even more irritatingly put together. Not in a polished wayânothing about him screamed âcarefulâ or ârefinedââbut in a way that suggested heâd never really had to worry about being out of control. Like heâd always known exactly how far he could push things before they pushed back.
That kind of confidence was either earned⊠or delusional.
I was leaning toward bothâŠ
He finally turned his head toward me.
ââŠYou do this often?â
He looked at me for the first time since walking over.
âOnly on days ending in ây.ââ
âI had it under control.â
The sarcasm practically dripped off every word.
âYou looked one bad decision away from getting yourself arrested.â
âI wasnât going to get arrested.â
âWhat was the plan, then?â
âI was going to break his nose.â
He let out a short laugh.
âBut,â he added, âyouâve been drinking.â
âI didnât ask for your help.â
âThen whyâd you step in?â
He looked at the two men still lying on the ground before answering.
âBecause paperworkâs annoying.â
âIf youâd broken his arm, your cop dad wouldâve spent the rest of the night dealing with this mess.â
He looked at me like heâd said the most obvious thing in the world.
âYouâre Kyleâs daughter, arenât you?â
There it was. The first time someone had recognized me. Or at least figured it out.
A slow grin spread across his face.
âYou donât remember me...â
He put a grin on his face.
âThis should be interesting.â
The sound of sirens got closer fast, I let out a slow breath and glanced at the two idiots still groaning on the ground.
âFantastic,â I muttered. âJust what I needed.â
The strangerâstill standing way too close for comfortâdidnât even look bothered. If anything, he looked mildly annoyed, like the sirens were interrupting his evening routine, headlights cut through the darkness at the end of the street.
It slowed as it pulled up in front of the bar, tires crunching against gravel. The moment it stopped, the driverâs door opened.
And I already knew who it was before he even stepped out.
My father walked around the front of the car with the kind of controlled urgency that came from doing this job too many years to count. His eyes scanned the scene onceâquick, practicedâand landed immediately on the two guys on the ground.
Then on the stranger standing beside me.
His expression shifted slightly, but I saw it.
ââŠWhat happened here?â he asked.
No shouting,no panic, just that calm, tired voice that meant he was already mentally preparing for paperwork. As I was opening my mouth, the stranger did too.
We both stopped and looked at each other.
And spoke at the same time.
âHe grabbed her wrist.â
Kyle exhaled slowly through his nose.
âI said what happened,â he repeated.
Then again, at the same time:
âShe was about to break his nose.â
I turned my head slowly toward him.
âI was not about toââ
âYou literally told me you were.â
Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose.
âBoth of you, stop talking.â
The two guys on the ground groaned again, which somehow made everything worse.
Kyle looked at them, then back at us.
His gaze lingered on the stranger a second longer than I liked.
That small, quiet shift that meant this wasnât the first time heâd seen him like this.
ââŠShane,â Kyle said finally.
Shane just gave a small nod like this was entirely normal.
No âsir.â No âofficer.â Just Kyle.
âYou know him?â I asked before I could stop myself.
Kyle didnât look away from Shane.
âI do.â That was all he said. Which somehow made it worse. I crossed my arms.
âGreat. So Iâm the only one here meeting new people by getting dragged into street fights.â
âYou werenât dragged.â
âYou were actively participating.â
Kyle let out a tired breath that sounded like heâd aged five years in the last ten minutes.
âOkay,â he said firmly. âEveryone stop talking.â
A beat. Then he pointed at me.
âYouâre coming with me.â
âYou,â he said again, âare coming with me.â
âAnd you are not explaining this here.â
Which was honestly more annoying than if heâd argued.
Kyle turned back toward the cruiser, already done with the conversation.
I followed a few steps, then stopped.
Shane was still standing there, hands in his pockets, watching the scene like none of this had actually disrupted his evening.
And right before I got into the car, he said something barely audible⊠mouthing.
I stared at him for half a second.
And somehow⊠I didnât believe myself.
(Ooookay guys, please tell me how do you like it so far because I havenât written a fanfiction in a looong time and not sure whether Iâm doing it right.. please let me know in the comments!!! xx)