“Get me two, like I said,” he says, and she looks at me. I don’t know if she knows who he is, so I just nod, and she walks off to pour our drinks. When she brings them back, she places them on the counter, and he slides her two one-hundred-dollar bills. She doesn’t offer to give him the change. She takes them and walks off to serve the next.
I still haven’t made eye contact with him. I know that’s what he wants. My attention.
Looking down at my phone, I mindlessly start scrolling as I feel his eyes on me. Neither of us make the first move to speak until I see him move forward, his elbows sliding along the counter. Now he’s closer than ever, instead of leaning back on his stool. He’s closing in on my space, and I can’t help but feel like I’ve been marked, just like I do every time I’m in his presence. Which naturally irritates me.
“Drink?” he asks, sliding the one Soph made for me closer.
“I didn’t want one. I have a water,” I finally speak back to him. “It was rude for you to assume what you think I like as well.”
“I know what you like.” That’s his only answer, and with a defeated sigh, I finally turn to him. His drink is pressed to his lips as he watches me over the rim of the glass.
“You know what I like?” The question hangs between us. I never know how to read Silas. He’s always commanding yet acting like a gentleman. But every time I’m on edge for what demand he has for me. It especially annoys me in the way he acts as if we’re well acquainted.
“Yes, this is your chosen drink. Do you care to lie and tell me otherwise?”
Of course he knows what my chosen drink is. He would have done his research. Research I’m sure he could better be using to uncover his friend’s death. Or maybe he already has, which is why I haven’t seen him. I don’t fucking know, but it’s frustrating for me as well to have such a lack of resources to figure out what happened that night. What I do know is none of the crew is acting out of sorts toward me, which means it’s been buried, hopefully alongside his friend’s body, respectfully.
“Why are you here?” My voice is flat.
“My men wanted to blow off some steam,” he casually says, not even bothering to look over his shoulder.
“And you just so happened to pick this place, on the night I am here?” There are multiple clubs in Boston, and I don’t believe in coincidences when it comes to this man.
He places his glass on the counter, and his fingertip rubs across the top of it in circles.
“Coincidence … some would say.”
I scoff, but choose not to speak again as I look away from him and back at my phone. Even though it’s hard, because he takes up so much room with his presence, it’s almost suffocating.
“Boss,” one of his men says. “There’s an issue…”
“What kind of issue?” he says, clearly not giving him any attention, his eyes still on me.
His man leans in and whispers, hoping I don’t overhear. “One of the guys got too handsy with the blonde, and well, she hit him, and now she is knocked out on the floor.”
My eyes swing to his, my stomach twisting with a gripping fear. I’m moving before I can stop myself. I stalk to the private room and yank the curtain open and find Nessa on the floor. She’s out cold. My breathing picks up seeing her like that, laying almost lifeless. Her hands splayed out next to her face, and a man sits back on the lounge, laughing as he smokes a cigarette.
I rush over to Nessa and touch her softly on the shoulder. “Ness…”
“Oh, you want to dance for me too, whore?” the asshole lounging on the couch says. His eyes are dilated, and he’s clearly on something.
I ignore him and focus on Nessa. “Come on, honey … open your eyes.” My stomach twists into knots. No, no, no, come on, girl.Wake up.
Nessa slowly comes to and mumbles something.
Oh, thank fuck.
“Stay here. I’ll get Soph to help you. And where the fuck is security?” I growl, knowing that exceptions are probably made for men like these, which pisses me off even more.
Her eyes flicker open and land on me. “What the hell…” She’s dazed but quickly remembers what happened. “Oh no… Don’t do anything, Leo, you’ll get me fired.”
My jaw grinds when that’s the first thing she thinks of. Then again, she’s probably thinking about Larissa. Right now, I just need to get her out of here. That’s all I’m focused on, my heart racing at the injustice of women dealing with pigs like this. I wave to Soph at the bar, who immediately rushes past me to help Nessa.
Blood is trickling down her face, but I don’t know where exactly it’s coming from. Luckily, Soph is taller than both of us and easily pulls her up to stand.
The man on the lounge throws his head back and laughs.
All that bottled rage has nowhere to go as I narrow my gaze on him, and the moment she’s out of the room, I close in on the asshole. “What did you do to her, you limp-dicked asshole?”
