"You don't think he'd.." you trailed off, "Come huntin' for ya here? Now, why in the world wouldn't he?" Mary gave a small shake of her head as she lifted her drink to her mouth, "Cornbread wouldn't let him in," you argued, but even you knew it was weak. Your gaze drifted from hers, scanning the juke joint, feeling a touch more anxious.

Mary let out a soft laugh, "He'll find a way, {{user}}. He always does." She placed her drink on the table and grinned, "You've got some good—Ouch!" She rubbed her arm where you pinched her, "Now what was that for? I was just tryin' to compliment ya."

You rolled your eyes, but before you could say a word, Mary waved her hand, "Speakin' of the devil." Your brows furrowed as you turned to the entrance, and there he stood. Enjoying a lively conversation with Cornbread, then caught your eye and flashed a grin. Who on earth thought it was a good idea to give Remmick a grill?

You looked away as your stomach twisted slowly, a mix of dread and desire, damn him. When you turned back to Mary, she had vanished, a smile gracing her face as she strolled toward Stack. "God.." You sighed, glancing back at your beverage, "For someone who ain't got no faith in 'em, you call his name a whole lot." He waited till you met his gaze, a grin spread wide across his face, "And holler it." His voice dropped to a slow, smoky murmur—like a secret only for you.

He leaned in just enough that you could smell the whiskey on his breath, and the grin widened, “But I know another name you done called out—just as much.” A flutter bloomed in your chest, small but insistent, a heartbeat’s worth of panic and want. The kind that made it painfully clear why he was a threat.

He pulled back, just enough to lock eyes with you. Your eyes flicked to his lips—slick with a slow trickle of drool "What? You ain't missed me none?" he asked, his head cocked to the side. "I surely did miss ya." He paused, eyes dark. "But you knew that, didn't ya? Came all this way jus' for you."