“There are people here who work for my father. And I hate being around those types of people.”

“Oh.” I flick a glance around before returning my gaze to him. “So, is that why they’re staring? Because they know who you are?”

“Yeah. And Hunter.” He gives a short pause. “I’m sure they’re wondering who you are, too.” He frowns at a large dude with a shaved head and a snake tattoo going up the side of his face. “I really don’t think it’s a good idea that we brought you in here.” His grip on my hips tightens. “I don’t like how some of them are looking at you.”

“I’ll be fine,” I assure him. “Remember, I said I can throw a mean punch, if I need to.”

“I know, but”—he sweeps his gaze over the area—“I feel like this is announcing that you’re part of our group. And, while I know everyone in this town was going to find out eventually, it might not have been a good idea to do it in this bar of all places.”

He holds onto me tighter as we continue to squeeze our way through the crowd, past the bar area, and toward a door located at the back near the bathrooms with a sign on it that reads: Keep Out.

When we reach it, Hunter wraps his fingers around the doorknob. I’ll admit I’m a bit tense as he pulls the door open. Part me half-expects a beefy dude to jump out and throw us out for entering. And a beefy dude, who I’m assuming is the bouncer, is standing right there, but he just gives us a nod.

Okay, then … What’s the point of having a bouncer if he’s not going to throw out a bunch of teenagers?

Once we pass him, we step into a much less crowded room with some tables surrounded by chairs. And in those chairs are people playing poker. A second later, it clicks that I’ve just walked into an illegal gambling den.

The room is quiet except for light chatter and clinking chips. The air is laced with smoke, and a few waiters and waitresses are wandering around, handing out drinks to the players who are a mixture of men and women, some looking more casual while others are dressed in suits or dresses.

I’d probably feel out of place except I’ve been in a place like this before. It’s something that I’m just remembering as a memory presses against my mind …

“Where are we, Daddy?” I ask as I peer around at the people sitting around a table covered in stacks of funny-looking coins.

My dad is looking around, as if searching for something. “This is where I work, Ravenlee. But, technically, you’re not supposed to be with me, so I need you to keep as quiet as possible.”

“Do you see him?” Jaxon asks, tearing me from the memory. He’s looking around, and so is Hunter. I glance around, too, but not for Zay’s brother since I have no idea what he looks like … or do I?