Violet Nights

Nightclubs weren’t really Dani’s thing anymore.
Too loud. Too crowded. Too many eyes lingering too long.
Still, it beat going home alone.
So Dani sat in the darkest corner beneath violet neon, oversized hoodie pulled low over her eyes while bass rattled the walls around her. Her untouched drink rested between nervous fingers as cigarette smoke and expensive perfume drifted through the packed room.
Nobody paid much attention to the girl hiding in the corner.
At least, that’s what Dani wanted to believe.
She noticed him after twenty minutes.
Tall. Relaxed. Dangerous.
A man leaning against the far end of the bar with a whiskey glass in one hand and sharp blue eyes that kept drifting back toward her like he was trying to solve a puzzle.
Phillip Graves.
Even from across the club, Dani could tell exactly what kind of man he was.
The kind people trusted carefully.
Unfortunately, a group of drunk men noticed her first.
There she is, one slurred, swaggering toward her table. Pretty little thing hiding all alone.
Dani immediately pulled her hood lower.
I’m fine, she muttered quietly.
The men ignored it.
One leaned down too close, alcohol heavy on his breath. C’mon sweetheart, don’t be rude.
Then a smooth southern drawl cut through the tension behind them.
Fellas, I’m gonna recommend y’all back away from the table.
The men turned.
Phillip Graves stood there relaxed as ever, whiskey still in hand.
Smiling.
Dangerously.
This ain’t your business, one snapped.
Graves’ smile widened slightly. Funny thing is, I think it just became my business.
Something in his tone finally landed.
The men backed off with muttered curses before disappearing into the crowd.
Silence settled between Dani and Graves beneath flashing neon and pounding bass.
Dani looked up slowly from beneath her hood. I could’ve handled it.
Darlin’, Graves replied smoothly, sliding into the seat across from her, I know.
Stepped in anyway.