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“Starlight.”

“Hellcat.”

“Everyone’s here.”

“Be out in a sec.” As the walkie cuts out, Micah rounds the corner with bottles from the storage room in his hands.

We both help with drink orders until the line is manageable for Mable and Josiah. Then we exit the bar alley and join our friends at the table.

Great songs spill from the speakers as squawky voices belt out lyrics. Our friends drink beer and discuss which songs they will sing when their turn comes. Micah and I sit back, join in the conversation, laugh and enjoy the evening and our surroundings.

Shelly tugs Cora toward the stage as both my and Micah’s walkies crackle in our ears. “Boss man,” Ted calls out. “Someone I admitted in asked if you’re working tonight.”

I meet Micah’s gaze with a scrunched brow. He shrugs. “Did you catch their name?”

“No, sorry. But she’s wearing a red dress and has brown hair.”

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and search for my inner zen. Never would I suspect Micah of adultery. So, my mind doesn’t go in that direction when I hear a woman is asking for him. Instead, my mind travels to the long list of women he was with over the years and prays another one isn’t coming at him with some outlandish accusation.

Micah spins to face me head-on. “Please don’t freak out.”

“Not the best way to start a conversation,” I say.

He nods. “Saturday, I was headed to the office after rounds to catch up on paperwork. Caleb informed me over the walkie that a woman asked for me. By the time he brought it up, she was headed for the exit. I only caught the back of her, but knew who it was.”

“Who?”

An angry nest of hornets buzzes in my belly and sends venom through my veins. I am sick and tired of all these women. Do they not understand the concept of one-night stands? From what Micah told me, he made it abundantly clear to all of them.

“Rochelle,” he says, loud enough for only me to hear.

Rochelle? As in his ex-girlfriend? As in the woman who fucked another man in his bed and crushed his heart? If Rochelle is here, this isn’t some pregnancy situation. This is next level. And I have had it with the bullshit.

I lock eyes with Micah. See fear as his eyes dart between mine and sweat slicks his brow. Feel anxiety roll off him as he clenches my hands and waits for me to say something. Anything.

“Ted?”

“Yes, Miss Peyton?”

“Please be on standby to escort someone from the premises.”

Micah’s eyes widen. “What’re you doing?”

“Handling this; after we figure out what she wants.”

Out of nowhere, Shelly stops singing mid-song. Cora slaps Shelly’s arm. “Too drunk to sing already?” Cora teases. But when I look to Shelly, her eyes are laser-focused behind me.

One-way ticket to party town coming up.

“There you are,” a brunette says as she stops in front of Micah, in front of us.

Dressed in an overpriced dress and heels, Rochelle has the audacity to rest her hand on Micah’s shoulder as she steps into his space. Micah shirks from her touch and inches back.

“First, don’t touch me. Second, what are you doing here, Rochelle?”

The woman smiles as if Micah didn’t just say to back the fuck up nicely. I ball my fingers into fists and keep them pinned at my sides. I will let Micah be the nice one. But if this bitch doesn’t catch on soon…

“Wanted to see you. I miss you.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Micah says louder than before, and eyes dart our way. “You miss me? What, did your fuckboy leave you?”

Rochelle jerks her head back as if slapped. “No need to be ugly. To answer your question, no, he didn’t break up with me. I broke it off with him. He was too immature. And like I said, I miss you.”

She reaches forward and is inches from touching Micah when I rise from my stool. “Do not touch him.”

“Who are you?” she asks with a snarl. “His flavor of the day?”

I step closer, invading her space, and use the few inches I have on her to get in her face. She doesn’t back down but looks a little gray in the face. For a moment, I don’t say anything. I simply stare down at her. When she swallows, I know I have her.

“Actually, it doesn’t matter who I am. What matters is he isn’t yours. Hasn’t been for quite some time. You don’t deserve him. Hell, you don’t deserve anyone.”

“You don’t know me,” she bites back. “How dare you—”

“How dare I what? Not be a frigid bitch. Not treat someone like trash.” I hold my hands in front of me, palms up, and wave my fingers. “Let’s hear it. And it better be good.” Rochelle looks past me to Micah. “No.” I push her back. “You don’t get to look at him.”

“I don’t know who you think you are, but if you touch me again, I’ll call the police.”

I tip my head back and laugh. “And I’ll laugh as they issue you a trespassing notice because you’re harassing an employee.” I force her back as I step farther into her. “You can go peacefully or not. The choice is yours.”

“You don’t know who you’re messing with,” she bites out. “He’s only good for sex. So, you can have him.”

A fuse lights in my veins. Burns slow and hot as the flame gets closer to the ticking bomb beneath my rib cage. My breathing kicks up a degree as my cheeks flush. And before I give serious thought to my actions, I take a step back, grab her shoulders, rear back, and drive my knee between her legs. Hard.

Rochelle crumples to the floor and wails in pain as she grabs herself. “Bitch!”

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