Snippet #1457824

One second, Cheyne was sitting dreaming - the next, the second the violence broke out, and the punch was thrown at Todd, he'd sprang to his feet in a single lithe movement and, without even seeming to hurry, was standing between Roxy and Billboard-Brow's little group. He didn't say anything, didn't scowl, didn't threaten. He was there, though. When Billboard-Brow grabbed the young, good-looking boy by the front of his shirt, Cheyne simply shook his head, as if BB should maybe be looking for alternate entertainment. His message was pretty obvious, really. Move in the direction of the lady, and you'll end up in the meat-sauce tonight. He looked at BB's friends, but none of them seemed inclined to support their leader. When the guy came out and threw BB to the ground, Cheyne thought the trouble would really start, but these young hoons were obviously as gutless as they were stupid, and left after a few pathetic attempts at harassing Roxy. Cheyne escorted them out, one arm casually draped around one of BB's followers, as if he were their friend and escort, but he was squeezing the guy's shoulder so hard that he'd have a black-blue bruise there for the next month. The kid got the message.

As he returned, he saw the young, good-looking kid pick up his phone and read a text message. The next second, the kid was up with tears springing to his eyes and heading for the back room. Obviously it wasn't the fight that had upset him. Cheyne shrugged - it was none of his business - presumably the message was a break-up from a girlfriend. He sympathized, he'd had his share.

He turned to Roxy, who didn't seem to be any the worse for wear from the harassment and insults. "You OK?" he asked.