Heartbreak Bar
Evan, with their ethereal and unmatched presence, remained the focal point of admiration among the young women in the establishment.
Rocky chuckled softly from his perch on a barstool, observing Evan's graceful movements and the numerous eyes trailing them. "Tsk, tsk. They're more captivating than any of us men here. If their true gender were known, it'd shatter countless youthful fantasies."
Amy offered a gentle smile. "Rocky, if you were five or six years younger, you'd easily charm a crowd of young ladies too."
He frowned playfully. "Are you implying I've already become an uncle?" For heaven's sake, he was only thirty-three!
Amy laughed lightly. "I didn't mean it like that. You still appear quite youthful…"
He cut in, teasing. "But my actual age suggests otherwise—is that what you're hinting?"
"No, no…" She hurried to clarify, but a large hand suddenly covered her mouth, muffling her words into incoherent murmurs.
"Stop teasing her," Lloyd interjected calmly while polishing glasses nearby. "To those sixteen- or seventeen-year-olds, both of us qualify as seasoned gentlemen."
Rocky snorted dismissively. "Speak for yourself! I'm currently the most sought-after golden bachelor."
"Right, right—the exceptionally eligible golden bachelor. How long do you plan to linger here?" Lloyd asked casually.
It seemed Rocky had no intention of returning to the event.
"Is this how you treat your guests, proprietor?" Rocky arched a brow mockingly.
Lloyd remained unperturbed by the sarcasm. "Hospitality matters little compared to avoiding Susan's wrath. You slipped away from the banquet and left that young woman stranded. Susan will undoubtedly explode. Given her recent advancements in knife-throwing and judo, if you wish to be her first test subject, I won't object—but don't involve me." He had zero interest in sharing Rocky's misfortunes—where was the romance in that?
"Some friend you are!" Rocky accused dramatically.
"I reserve loyalty for meaningful causes." As he spoke, Lloyd's hands deftly prepared drinks for waiting servers.
"That poor woman did nothing wrong. How could you abandon her, Rocky?" Amy's compassion surfaced, her gaze tinged with reproach.
Rocky defended himself matter-of-factly. "I left to prevent her from developing further expectations. It was the considerate choice."
It almost sounded logical. Amy's eyes drifted toward the entrance, where she spotted a familiar figure—Susan had arrived.
Still clad in her evening gown! She was undoubtedly here for Rocky. Should she alert him?
As Amy hesitated, Lloyd's cool voice cut through the air.
"Susan's here." Consider that his act of loyalty.
Rocky jolted. Peeking over his shoulder, he confirmed Susan's presence and swiftly stood. "Thanks, I'm making an exit." He melted into the crowd.
Lloyd gave a casual wave.
Fortunately, the bar was packed tonight. A few strategic dodges allowed him to slip out the back undetected.
Rocky navigated a dim, narrow alley before emerging onto a slightly broader street. Houses lined both sides, their windows dark at this late hour.
In the distance, he spotted three men cornering a woman. Even in the gloom, his vision remained razor-sharp. A robbery? Or something worse?
Sophia was moments from unlocking her car when the dark window reflected three approaching figures.
She spun around, alarmed. "Who are you?"
"The doomed need no answers," one man sneered.
"You intend to kill me?" She fought to stay calm, buying time. "Why? We've no quarrel!"
The street lay dark and deserted, devoid of witnesses. Hope dwindled in her chest. Would she die here tonight without explanation?
Her eyes flickered toward nearby houses—some still lit. If she screamed, would anyone intervene?
Truthfully, she doubted it.
Cold fear prickled her skin.
"Someone simply prefers you gone…" The man's words halted abruptly.
Another growled impatiently, "Enough chatter. If someone passes by, we're done for. Ah! She's stalling!"
"Cunning witch. Almost fooled us."
All three brandished blades and lunged without mercy.
A choked gasp escaped her. She scrambled backward, stumbling into a desperate run.
"Don't let her escape!" The armed men gave chase.
Fear weighted her steps, slowing her flight. As the gap closed, her legs betrayed her.
Death's chill breath brushed her neck. This was the end.
Sophia clenched her eyes shut, bracing for the blade's bite.
"Miss, when facing assailants, always scream for help. That's how rescuers find you." A languid voice sliced through the tension, dispelling the icy dread.
Warm hands pulled her aside.
Sophia's eyes flew open, but before she could glimpse her savior, a vicious slash grazed them. She recoiled, narrowly avoiding it.
"Stay out of this, hero. Scram," one pursuer snarled.
"Careful now." Rocky shot her a glance before engaging two attackers. He seized a knife-wielding wrist, twisted it to block another strike, then delivered swift kicks to a flank followed by a crushing punch.
Though Sophia dodged frantically, her coat bore several slashes.
Rocky moved like shadow, disarming one man and sending him flying with a spinning kick.
Whirling around, he found the woman again trapped—the third man's blade poised to strike. Without thought, he shoved her aside and took the blow himself.
Sophia watched in horror as steel buried itself in her rescuer's side, her face bleaching white.
Blood bloomed across his white shirt, stark and vivid.
Tch. Rocky winced faintly. Being stabbed felt downright unpleasant—and rather painful.
The attacker pressed his advantage, aiming to finish her while Rocky faltered.
Abruptly, Rocky threw back his head and unleashed a long, piercing howl. "Awoo—"
Sophia gaped, speechless.
What was this? What did the cry mean?
The atmosphere thickened with strangeness.
The three men exchanged bewildered glances. Regaining focus, they moved to act—only to freeze. The street now swarmed with silent, feral dogs, eyes gleaming with menace.
Rocky's lips curled. "Care to taste a canine's greeting to your throat?"
The pack growled low, saliva dripping from sharp teeth—a visceral terror.
The men paled, limbs trembling, afraid even to breathe lest the hounds frenzy.
"Scram."
The dogs parted obediently, as though understanding.
The trio fled stumbling, fearing delay would leave them bones.
Rocky emitted a shorter howl. "Awoo—"
The pack dissolved into the shadows without a sound.
Throughout, Sophia could only stare, utterly bewildered.
"It's over. You may leave," Rocky said once the last dog vanished.
Collecting herself, Sophia remembered his wound. "Gods—you're injured! You need hospital care! Wait, I'll fetch my car!" She spilled the words in a rush and sprinted toward her vehicle.
"Unnecessary—" he began, but she'd already bolted.
The wound meant little to him—some blood, some pain, soon healed.
Rocky withdrew the blade, blood flowing freely.
Tossing the knife aside, he turned and walked away, not waiting for her return.