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Numb, she dropped back into her seat. Jackson remained frozen beside her, his fork still hovering in midair. Only Marx appeared unfazed. His mouth twitched with amusement as he lifted another bite of food to his lips. Irene pushed herself up onto her knees with a broken cry, her teary eyes wide with pleading and shock. A thin ribbon of blood dribbled from her nose and the corner of her mouth. Panic stamped her face as she tried to wipe the sinister trails away.

“What…” Taylor shook her head and tried to make sense of what just happened. Her throat was too dry and tight to speak. “Jesus…Irene…what did you do?” she whispered.

“Yes, Irene, what did you do?” Sebastian repeated in a soft cadence, his chilling stare settling on the woman.

Fear writhed down Taylor’s spine. There was no mistaking the disgust in Sebastian’s voice, no matter how gentle and coaxing the tone. Her eyes darted between the two of them as he leaned back in his seat and regarded the redhead with a terse smile.

“As much as you dislike me right now, you are going to like me even less if I have to ask you again,” he warned. “Tell Taylor what happened.”

Clamping a hand over her nose and mouth, Irene gave a desperate shake of her head. “I don’t…I wasn’t th-thinking. It was the alcohol. I’m sorry,” she pleaded. “I didn’t mean…I’m so sorry.”

Josh glared down at her as if she was the most vile and reprehensible thing to ever slither across God’s green earth. The thin line of his upper lip curled in disgust as he shook his head. “Really? You’re just making the rounds tonight, aren’t you cupcake? It wasn’t enough to try to play grab and go with my dick? You had to help yourself to a handful of Sebastian’s, too?”

Monique straightened and twisted in her seat, some of the fear evaporating from her face as she stared down at Irene. Reproach flickered across her perfect features before she lifted her chin and turned away.

“I didn’t mean…”

Snapping his fingers, Josh silenced her with a stern point. “Spare us the bullshit. I don’t know what your angle was pulling that shit with me, but you’ve been panting after Baas like a raw bitch in heat since the second he met you. You meant every goddamn second of it. I just hope it was worth it.”

Dumbfounded, Taylor shook her head, her mouth hanging open as she looked to her friend. She winced, realizing the word suddenly left a bitter taste in her mouth. Friends didn’t do that to each other. Hurt threatened to get the better of her. She wanted to believe there’d been some kind of mistake. She needed to. Irene had been like a mother figure in so many ways. Her heart shattered with that profound loss and betrayal all over again. It felt as if someone had stuck a hot poker through her chest. She couldn’t breathe.

Blinking, she tried her damnedest to keep the tears from falling. “Sebby?” she whispered, her voice shaking.

His expression softened some, but he nodded in silent confirmation. The murderous rage returned to his eyes, dimming the pale depths, as he shifted his attention back to the floor.

“How could you do that to me, Irene?” she asked in a pained tremor.

“Tay, baby, I’m so sorry…”

“No,” Taylor argued, the strength in her voice returning. “You’re not. I trusted you. I welcomed you into my home. How could you sit there and do that to me? How could you do that to Sebastian—or Josh and Monique? You were supposed to be my friend!”

“Taylor!” Irene begged.

Clamping her eyes shut, she fought to keep her temper under control when all she really wanted to do was throw things or scream. She started to stand, fully intent on ripping the woman’s throat out, but Sebastian’s hand settled over thigh, keeping her seated.

“Get out,” she ordered coldly. “Just get the hell out of my house. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

“That won’t be necessary, Miss McAvay,” Marx stated. The deep boom of his voice shattered the stillness. “Your friend will be coming home with me.”

There was a cold finality to the statement—an unspoken threat that almost collapsed her lungs. Silence gripped the room. Monique paled. Terror welled in Irene’s tear-filled eyes as she glanced around, suddenly no longer as eager to spend the night with the commander as she had been before.

“No…please…”

“It’s too late for a sudden injection of wisdom, sunshine. You’re getting exactly what you wanted. Now get your ass in that chair and shut your mouth until he is ready to go,” Sebastian snapped, pointing at the woman’s capsized seat.

Taylor flinched at the harsh grate in his voice. Her pulse roared in her ears, and she swore her heart was going to explode from her chest. He was perilously close to losing whatever fragile hold he had left. There was no telling what he would do then. Flashbacks of the Christmas Eve party rolled through her mind, and the air left her in a shallow wheeze as she prayed Irene had enough common sense to listen. She had no desire whatsoever to relive that night. Nor did she want to see if the other men reached the same terrifying potential as Sebastian when pushed.

“I don’t want to. I j-just want to g-go hoooomeee,” Irene cried, inching away.

Josh lashed out and wound a hand in the woman’s hair, cutting her progress short. “It doesn’t matter what you want, cupcake. Wise up and do what you’re fucking told. You get that?” he asked, dragging her back toward her seat.

Irene sobbed and tried to twist away. Her fingers scrabbled against the hard wood as she struggled to find purchase along the sleek surface. Taylor wanted to tell her to stop fighting, but she was rendered speechless when Sebastian shifted in his seat and pulled his gun. It took everything she had not to hit the floor and crawl under the table. Jackson faltered and cursed beside her.

The menacing click of the safety gave the waitress pause. Her hazel eyes flared upon seeing the brushed chrome pistol aimed her way. A callous smirk tugged Sebastian’s lips and Irene froze altogether.

Taylor’s teeth clattered then sank into her lower lip, drawing blood, as Josh jerked the woman up off the floor. Standing, he flung Irene into her chair. He was brutal, savage, and not at all the laidback, good-humored man she’d grown accustomed to. It was like the whole world had turned upside down. Any preconceived notions or realities she thought she’d had went flying out the window in the blink of an eye.

Irene hit her seat hard. The impact jarred the table, causing several drinks to slosh over their rims. Taylor remained rooted, a small whimper rising in her throat, her eyes tracking Sebastian. Lowering his gun, he eased it down beside his plate. His expression remained calm, but a lethal promise still resided in his stare. He kept one hand rested on the Desert Eagle’s grip. The wide barrel remained pointed Irene’s way.

Clearing his throat, Marx wiped the corner of his mouth with his napkin. “You will learn to obey the orders you’re given. I suggest you do so now. You will not find me as gentle or forgiving as my men.”

“Taylor? What’s going on? What’s happening? Do something…please….”

The tremulous plea broke her heart. Lowering her head with a sorrowful shake, she closed her eyes.

“Leave her out of this,” Sebastian warned in a quiet rasp. “There is nothing Taylor can do for you now. You wanted to crawl in bed with one of us so badly. Now you are going to see how that feels.”

“I was just playing,” Irene whispered.

Sebastian settled back in his seat and raised a brow, his hand still resting on his gun. The terse smile he offered was cold and damning. “I don’t think so, Irene. I was far from entertained, and I fail to see the humor in a whore groping me at my dinner table. I warned you at Taylor’s party not to touch me again, and with me, one warning is all you get.”

Josh gave a dry snort. “She couldn’t help herself, Baas. The bitch is like a fucking rollercoaster. Everyone gets a ride.”

“This conversation is done,” Marx said, standing.

Irene cowered, her entire body slumping lower when he approached. Misery and pleading contorted her face, and a violent sh

udder wracked her voluptuous frame. She tried to shrink away, but to no avail. Marx’s colossal hands eclipsed the entire upper half of her arms. The lusty coppertop’s head whipped back with the force as he hauled her out of her chair.

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