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Nope. Not. Going. There. I can’t.
I come back out from the bar area, the frustration hot inside. At least I have a mountain of paperwork to take it out on.
My phone’s buzzing in my pocket, and Andrew, my favorite bouncer here, raises a brow at my frown as I look at the screen before pushing the phone back into my pocket.
I shake my head at him and storm off to my office. My damn brother, Leo.
Freaking Christian.
I pull the phone out again. It lights up.
A message from Leo, and then the buzzing starts again. It’s Christian, my brother’s closest friend and right-hand man. My cousin, Theo’s, brother-in-law. All-around thorn in my side. I close my eyes as I lean against the office door.
Christian.
A shiver of heat races through my veins.
The man is hotter than sin, and he knows it. He’s dangerous, and not just with his hands and gun. He’s dangerous to hearts and libidos everywhere. But not mine. I’m a pity project. One he feels guilt over because my being taken last time had to do with the woman he was banging.
That’s the other thing about him. He’s a world-class fuck boy. If it’s female and hot, he wants it.
Not me. He doesn’t want me. It’s worse than that.
He’s put himself in the role of designated Mia protector. And I hate it. Every single part. I only finally got rid of him. But how long that will last, I don’t know.
The last thing I need in my life is my every move watched and judged. They can all keep their cotton wool and coddling gestures. I won’t have someone come and protect me. It’s enough that I have to deal with these overbearing men who suffocate.
I need my space. I need to prove to myself I’m okay. And fuck everyone, including my therapist.
Taking a step, I stop and look down. Frowning, I sweep up the piece of paper on the floor. I’m about to dump it on my desk, because I figure Ellie dropped it, but my breath catches.
Mia.
Written in block letters.
My hand shakes as I open it.
Mind your own business and stop asking questions. Or else.
I ball it up and throw it at the small trash can, wiping my hands on my jeans as if I could wipe the sentiment off.
I grab my hoodie and pull it on, wanting more than anything to pull the hood up over my face. But I’m not going to do that. Instead, I head out, stopping to speak to Andrew.
The man’s built like a tank. All the bouncers here are except for one.
“When’s Frank coming in?”
His gaze catches mine. I know he’s not a fan of him either, but so far, Frank’s kept up that illusion of Teflon clean.
“It’s his day off, Mia. Problem?”
For a moment, I think of the note, but it’s not like threats and warnings don’t come with this territory. And Frank isn’t about to sneak in anywhere. He’s huge, like Andrew.
“Nope. Just curious.”
He looks like he wants to say something but doesn’t. Instead, his handsome face splits in a grin. “Let me know if you want heads crushed or, ya know, a shoulder for support.” His ears turn a little pink.
I slide my hands into the pockets of the gray hoodie. “I’ll be fine. I’m stepping out for a couple of hours. Reaper said he might be by later, so let him know I’ll be back.”
