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I watch his back as he walks away, and he joins a group of men at a table in the corner of the room. I finish my drink and depart for another one.
More alcohol equals fewer feelings.
“I have to say, I’m pissed you’re not in jail.”
I turn around at the gravelly voice to find Ronnie standing behind me. He takes my frown as an invitation to move to my side. He’s, of course, wearing a suit in this hole-in-the-wall pub. His blond hair is gelled to perfection, like he’s still a frat boy bonging beers in loafers, and his arrogance reeks from here.
“Word is, your little friend over there never took you in,” he goes on.
“File a report, Ronnie,” I answer. “I didn’t set the building on fire.”
The strong scent of him hits me as he comes in closer.
“I’ll leave this alone if you give me one date.One. That’s all I’m asking.”
“No. I’ve made it clear that I’m not dating at the moment.”
I look around the bar for my brothers. If they see this jackass talking to me, they’ll no doubt put him in his place. I don’t see either one of them.
Ronnie inherited the building but didn’t grow up in Blue Beech. He grew up in some big city, attended a prestigious school, and came into town thinking he’d impress people with his money and expensive cars.
“Come on. I have to be better than these small-town chumps around here.” He flashes me a smile. “You work nonstop. I ownseveralbuildings and will take care of you.”
I grimace and pull away when he runs his hand down my arm.
“And I can promise, it won’t only be financially. I do magical things with my tongue. Come home with me tonight.”
I’ve seen enough rape victims come into the ER to know this man is a threat. Pissing him off, turning him down, will only make him more persistent.
I order a water instead of an alcoholic drink from Maliki and fake a laugh when I look back at Ronnie. “I have an early shift tomorrow and am staying with my parents. They’re giving me the same curfew I had in high school.”
Please buy it. Buy it.
Eight
Gage
Am I fucking crazy?
Why in the living hell would I offer Lauren the loft?My loft?
Not only did I do that, but I also lied about it being available for rent.
It’s not—again, because it’smymotherfucking loft.
Thekeeping my distanceplan with Lauren is deteriorating fast. That woman has been my weakness from day one, and that weakness fucked up my life in so many ways.
I straighten in my stool when I notice Douche-Bag Landlord meeting her at the bar. He runs his sleazy hand down her arm, and she pulls away from his touch with revulsion on her face.
I slide off my stool at the same time she steps away from him, grabbing the glass of water Maliki slid over to her.
Good girl.
I flinch when a hand hits my arm.
“Gage, man, don’t do anything stupid that’ll cost you your job,” Kyle warns. “You might’ve gotten away with roughing dudes up in Chicago, but that shit won’t fly here. You put your hands on that guy, and he’ll demand you lose your badge. I had the displeasure of hanging out with him while you ran off to do who knows what with your girl of destruction. He went on and on about how much money he has, how many cars he owns, and the endless parade of chicks he bangs. Dude will press charges in a heartbeat and demand you lose your badge.” He tips his beer to his lips and takes a drink. “Not to mention, Lauren’s ass won’t fall for his bullshit. That girl is fucking evil.”
As much as I want to, I can’t bring myself to sit back down. If he touches her again, fuck my badge, fuck my job. I rub a sweaty hand over my forehead.
