Page 101 of Dangerous Promises

There was no reason for me to show myself so fully.

Nothing she said was wrong or unreasonable. But when I think about every night that she invites me into her bed and lets me touch her, hold her, fall asleep next to her... Then she goesand says something like that. She reminds me how little I mean to her when these interactions mean something to me.

Is that why there's this aching in my chest? Is that why my anger is bubbling beneath me like an incoming storm?

If I mean nothing to her… Then she doesn't deserve to mean anything to me, and once again I have been played by her. I've seen her clearer than anyone else and yet I'm still the one that keeps falling for it.

Every time I think about it my blood boils higher and I feel even more justified in what I have to do.

Everything was far easier when we hated each other.

I wish we could go back.

I scan the patrons in the bar, who clearly recognize me as they stop in various states to gawk at me. I make eye contact with the bar tender who carefully places down the glass he was holding and slinks off into the back.

I fold my arms as I wait for him to play messenger.

Angie swiftly follows in his exit and comes blazing out of the back room. She stops when she sees me, raising an intrigued brow. I get it. I'm surprised I'm here, too.

She nods at everyone else, sending them back to their conversations, before gesturing for me to follow her into a booth.

My anger is still like a snake hiding in the grass. Not always seen, but always there and ready to strike. At least I have calmed enough to have this conversation, but not so much that I wouldn't be able to go through with what I'm about to do.

I slide into the booth.

"Alexei, I know what Sage said was-" Isla pleads as she slides in next to me.

My eyes snap to hers and I silence her with a look. She raises her hands in surrender. Even if she doesn't always like it, she'll always have my back.

Angie watches with curiosity and a hint of amusement. I'm sure our problems are mere amusements to her as she so often excuses herself from the equation.

The bartender places Angie's signature drink in front of her. She takes a sip all while maintaining eye contact with me. The fact that she wasn't here waiting for me means I have surprised her.

"Another Rushkoff," Angie says. "I haven't yet had the pleasure of doing business with you."

I smirk. "It may be the first time I've come to you, Angie, but it will also be the last."

"That's a confident statement from someone sitting on the other side of my booth."

I scoff but she just stares me down, swirling the drink before taking another sip.

"They say they'll never need my help and yet they always do. There's always something."

Isla watches us, her eyes flicking nervously back and forth between us. She doesn't know what I'm here to do and I suppose I'm curious to see if she's going to try and stop me.

"It will be the last," I say, and I mean it as a promise. There's only one person who could drive me to need to ask Angie for help. Sage. Always Sage.

"Well," Angie says, a smile on her bright red lips. "Please enlighten me as to what favor you could possibly need that would finally lead you to me."

My heart skips a beat and for a split second I wonder if I'm doing the wrong thing. I wonder if I'm taking things too far. I made a death promise with Sage, one that I meant every word of. It never once felt like too far or too much.

Maybe part of me knew I could always take it back. That I would always take it back.

There's no coming back from this.

I feel Isla's eyes boring into the side of my face and I know if I look at her, I'll cave. So I must push ahead. Before I decide that this is a bad idea.

"You have something I don't," I say, stiff in my resolve even as it feels shattering.