Ella’s face pinched, her eyes lining with silver, but she dipped her head. Her shoulders rose and fell as she inhaled and exhaled sharply, then once again faced her boyfriend.
“I’m sorry,” she said to Alfie. “Let’s just go.”
“Good girl,” he said, as though praising a dog. “I don’t know why you wanted to come here anyway. I told you these guys your sisters hang out with are a bunch of tools anyway.”
The leash on my rage frayed, near snapping, and only Delia’s hand still resting on my pec kept me in check.
As Alfie led Ella away, gripping her upper arm too tightly for my liking, she glanced over her shoulder and mouthed, “I’m sorry,” to her sisters.
“God, I fucking hate that guy,” Delia grumbled.
“Me too,” Brie said, looking at her sister. “You ready to go home?”
“I’m going to stay and help Owen clean up this mess, actually,” Delia said, looking at me. “If that’s okay with you.”
“Of course. I’ll drive you home,” I said. I wasn’t going to turn down the chance for more time with her. “But you don’t have to.”
“I want to,” she assured me. Then to Brie: “Are you okay to drive?”
Brie nodded. “I only nursed a single drink, wanting to keep an eye on Ella when you disappeared.”
Satisfied her sister would be safe, Delia passed her keys off to Brie. “I’ll come get the car tomorrow. Or you can crash in the guest room. Whichever you want.”
“I’m not going to say no to sleeping in the world’s comfiest bed,” Brie said, shooting her sister a wink and disappearing into the night.
“The world’s comfiest bed?” I asked, quirking a brow at Delia.
“It’s nothing fancy,” she said with a shrug. “Just one of those Purple mattresses, but it’s a king. She can only fit a full in her apartment above the bakery, and she’s a bit of a starfish when she’s sleeping. Personally, I don’t understand why she doesn’t just buy a house with a bigger bedroom. It’s not like she can’t afford it.”
I knew each of the Delatou girls had sizable trust funds, though all of them were content to work for their money, a trait I’d always appreciated both in them, and in their parents for instilling it.
“So why doesn’t she?”
“She likes being close to the shop,” Delia said, and I instantly understood. After all, I spent ninety percent of my time in my office upstairs, the control freak in me needing to be as near to my business empire as I could be.
Before I could say anything else to Delia, Hugo approached.
“Security footage from tonight has been combed and…edited. Our guy has been added to the blacklist.”
Delia gasped and looked at me. “That’s a real thing?”
I nodded. “I’ve got a document in my computer with the people who have pissed me off enough to never be allowed back through the doors.”
Delia’s eyes widened. “How many names are on it?”
“Enough,” I said, winking.
“Fuck!” Delia cursed suddenly. “I’d forgotten about the video I took.” She unlocked her phone and tapped around, holding it up to show me as she deleted the video of me punching that guy in the face.
“No one will ever see it. Though we should probably take care of that,” she added, gesturing to my knuckles.
I’d experienced injuries far worse, but as soon as she mentioned it, I couldn’t ignore the stinging of my split skin. She moved behind the bar and scrounged up a clean, dry towel, filling it with ice. Then she strode back out onto the floor and dropped down into a booth, scooting over and patting the seat next to her.
“I’m sorry your first night on the job didn’t exactly go as planned,” I said when I settled at her side, wincing as she set the towel on my knuckles. “And I really wish you wouldn’t have confronted that guy.”
Delia scoffed. “You don’t have to worry about me, QB. You think that’s the first time I’ve been caught in the middle of a bar fight?”
I raised a brow. The thought of her being involved in something like that had that basic instinct toprotect, protect, protectonce again rising within me. I lifted my uninjured hand and rubbed my fist against my sternum, trying to soothe the sensation.
