Blunter than Nate would’ve.
But the asshole only shrugged. “He pissed off one of my best customers. Not sure he’ll be coming back. Not anytime soon.”
“Punched his teeth out,” Jordan muttered.
Nate glanced down and sure enough, there was crusted blood on one of Jordan’s hands, and he’d missed it from the way Jordan had been pressing his hand wound-first into his jeans. Like he hadn’t wanted Nate to know he’d gotten fucked up.
Natewaspissed. He was pissed that this had happened at all, and that was one hundred percent Jordan’s fault for coming here in the first place, but it sounded like he’d actually redeemed himself in the end.
Done the right thing, in the middle of a bunch of wrong ones.
“What do you want?” Ramsey repeated. “Clearly it’s not the cops and an assault charge.”
The asshole snorted.
“Exactly,” Ramsey continued evenly, completely in control.
“It’s not in anyone’s best interest to get the cops involved,” the asshole asserted.
Ramsey rolled his eyes. “No, but wewill.”
Jordan made a distressed noise. Cops would mean official records, would mean sanctions by the team, maybe even sanctions by the NFL.
Nobody wanted that, obviously, but at the same time, Nate understood exactly why Ramsey was making it clear that wasn’t off the table.
If they didn’t want to concede all their negotiating power, they had to be willing to blow this up. Even if it meant injuring Jordan in the ensuing blast.
“Come on, you don’t want that,” the asshole insisted smarmily.
“Nobody wants that,” Ramsey agreed. “So tell me what youdowant.”
The guy’s gaze flicked over to Nate’s wrist.
The watch was an antique, one he’d bought with his first NFL money. He knew some guys who had dozens, often encrusted with diamonds. Nate’s was the only one he owned, and while itwasvaluable, it held more sentimental than monetary value.
Nate would part with it in a second if it meant they could take Jordan out of here, all of them getting away safe and sound.
He’d give so much more, to ensure Ramsey was okay, even if he was intimately familiar with how capable Ramsey was of taking care of himself.
“The watch. Cash too. Whatever you got on you.” He paused. “And that diamond chain you wear.”
Not even a flutter of emotion crossed Ramsey’s face, even as Nate did his best to bury the fury that lanced through his middle, sour and bitter.
“Sure,” Ramsey said and let go of Nate’s hand, only so he could reach up to pull the chain out from underneath his sweater. “Hockey fan?” he asked casually as he coiled it, diamonds winking, into his palm. But he didn’t hand it over. Not yet. Not even when Nate pulled off the watch, Jordan looking distressed as he did it.
The asshole smirked at Ramsey’s question. “You’re sort of hard to miss.”
Ramsey shrugged, like he had nothing to do with that. And it suddenly occurred to Nate that he didn’t. That he’d had to learn to live with that face and that body and that brain. And he’d done it by shining himself up as bright and hard as the diamonds in his hand.
No question, Nate had loved him before that, but he loved him even more after the thought crossed his mind. Ramsey had never shrunk from any of it or from the pressure. He’d let everything make him even more beautiful, inside and out.
“Anything else?” Ramsey asked, eyebrow rising.
Nate never wanted to let him go. All he could hope was that Ramsey would be interested in having the most devoted knight, tucked away in his pocket. Half a step behind him, palm nestled in the small of his back.
“Cash,” the asshole said succinctly.
They both pulled out their wallets. Thirty seconds later, there were a few thousand dollars in rolled bills in Ramsey’s hand, next to his diamonds and Nate’s watch.
