“I’m guessing this distraction has red hair, red lipstick and is named Saige?” He leans over and kisses my cheek.

“Maybe. But she’s well worth it.”

The bar I end up parking near is an absolute shithole. It’s probably on my friends’ list of places we haven’t visited yet. We were visiting the more trendy establishments first and then making our way to the seedier ones later. But this place is going to be far, far down on the list.

Sylas laughs at my expression as I step out of the car. I hit the automatic locks and make sure the lights flash. I definitely don’t trust this area of the city. We probably should have taken a cab.

“It’ll be fine, I promise,” he says, taking my arm and tugging me away from the safety of my car.

“I don’t trust you,” I say and that just makes him laugh harder.

It must not be illegal to smoke in here, because the air is thick with it. Most of the people in here have had some hard living. I only have a moment to look around before there’s a roar from the corner and Sylas tugs me toward a group of twenty-something guys. I know all of their faces and their names. The twins, Row and Hardy, who, though identical can be told apart easily by their demeanor. Track, the one with the face of an angel that would make girls swoon if he was interested in that sort of thing, Baz with pale blonde hair and grey eyes that has a face for trouble and then Cash, the linebacker with dark hair and sapphire eyes. They’re a good-looking lot, even if I’m partial to Sylas. I find it funny that they all found each other. They look like they should be in a Con Artists of the Month calendar.

Their eyes all snap up when they see me and I feel absolutely naked in front of them. They know just as much about me as I do about them, even though we’ve never met. It’s an odd situation and I’m not sure how to proceed. Sylas takes the lead for me.

“Everyone, this is Saige. Saige, this is Cash, who you’ve met, Track, Row, Hardy and Baz.” They each give me a nod or a wave and in Baz’s case, a leer. I have to bite my bottom lip so I don’t laugh.

“Hello everyone,” I say, giving them all a little wave. “I feel like we’ve already met, for some reason.” I’m not sure how the joke is going to go off, but Track laughs.

“I knew I liked her.” He gets up and offers me his chair as Sylas pulls another one over to the small table.

“What would you like?” Sylas asks as he takes drink orders.

“Whatever you’re having,” I say. This isn’t the kind of place that you can get a good dirty martini. This is a bar for beer and hard stuff served in cloudy glasses.

Sylas gives me a wink and then he’s off to the bar to get drinks and I’m left to fend for myself. I look around and I can’t imagine what they must think of me.

“So we can pretend that this isn’t weird, or we can embrace it,” I finally say. I’m not good at holding things in. Better to get it all out in the open.

Track and Cash both laugh and Baz shoots me a smile. The twins are both still skeptical. Fair enough.

“I kind of hate that we know so much about each other but we’ve never met in person,” I say. “It’s awkward to the say the least.”

“Only if we let it be,” Cash says, beaming at me. He’s really quite attractive. He’s nothing on Sylas, of course, but objectively speaking.

Sylas arrives back with the drinks and he’s gone for Bud Light. I’m not much of a beer girl, but I take the sweating bottle from him with a thanks. He sits next to me and rests his arm on the back of my chair. It’s a statement as much as a show of affection. Primitive, but I’m not going to complain.

Now that Sylas is back, the tension congeals and is so palpable, I want to excuse myself.

“What’s your angle?” Someone says, and I turn to find Row glaring at me. Hardy isn’t glaring, but he’s definitely watching me intently.

“Pardon?” I say, taking a sip of liquid courage. I almost wish Sylas had brought me several shots of something to prepare me for this. It’s already been a long ass day and I still have studying to do and a drawing to start.

“You heard me. What’s your angle?” I shrug.

“No angle. I’m out of the lifestyle. I’m going mainstream.” I’m sort of joking and sort of serious. No matter what my father says, I’m getting out.

“And you expect us all to believe that? After you stalked us and conned our friend?” I snort into my beer bottle.

“Isn’t that a little hypocritical? Hacking my phone? Following my social media accounts? Stalking my friends?” I know what they did.

Row’s eyes narrow and he has no comeback.

“That’s what I thought,” I say. I’m wishing Sylas would back me up here, but he’s pretty silent. I turn my head and find him watching me.

“What’s that look?” I ask.

“Nothing. You’re just extraordinary,” he says, his mouth right next to my ear so only I can hear. I’m too distracted by his tongue on the edge of my ear to think about what the others around me are doing.

“I try,” I say and he nips my earlobe before withdrawing.

“So, Saige, are the two of you official?” Track asks. He seems to be getting a kick out of the whole thing and I can tell Cash is also amused.

“Are we?” I ask Sylas.

“That’s a discussion for another time,” he says. “But I’d like to make it official.” Someone—Row—coughs loudly. Real subtle.

“Look, I don’t expect you all to like me. I don’t expect to infiltrate your bromance. I don’t expect anything from you. But I want you to know I understand that you’re important to Sylas. If I take him, you all come with him and I’m okay with that. I don’t hold any grudges for what you did. We were all doing our jobs and it wasn’t personal.” I finish my little speech and look around again.

“So that’s all I have to say. And if you don’t believe me, feel free to strap me up to a lie detector.”

Row scoffs.

“You’ve probably trained how to beat one.” I smile.

“You’re right, I have. That was one fun summer.” Dad and I played with a machine the summer after my junior year of high school until I could beat it without even trying.

Track and Cash start asking me more about my training with my father and I share some things. Baz also seems interested and starts asking questions as well. Row and Hardy remain reserved, which is fine. I wouldn’t trust me either.

Sylas just watches me with a slight smile on his face. I’m probably going to get an earful from him when we get back to my apartment.

I stop myself after two beers, but the rest keep going. I assume they all took cabs here. I tell Sylas if he wants to keep going, he can, since I’m driving.

“I’m good,” he says, finishing his second beer.

“You’ve been awful quiet,” I say, ignoring everyone else and focusing on him.

“Just observing,” he says.

“Me?” I ask.

“Yes.” There’s definitely more to it, but he doesn’t want to say it in front of the guys. They’ve stopped staring at me like I was a creature in a zoo and are talking about other times they’ve shared together. That gets Sylas animated again and it’s my turn to sit back and watch him interact with them.

He’s light with them. Happy. He laughs a lot and there’s plenty of trash talking and shoulder punches and a hell of a lot of swearing which doesn’t bother me in the least. I like that they’re so comfortable with me there to act like they normally would.

It makes me sad and angry at the same time. Dad doesn’t see these guys like this. To him, they’re pawns. Minions. People he can use to further his goals. I put my father on a pedestal from the time I was young. I believed he was a righteous man, doing good, fighting the good fight. Whatever he did, he did for the good of others. To protect me and to protect other little girls. He was basically Superman without the cape and ridiculous outfit.