He hesitated, and I slammed his head against the wall again.
“Got it?”
He nodded.
“Good. This conversation’s going great so far. Don’t you think so, Pres?” I glanced over my shoulder.
Preston had Tiny on the floor, his foot on his back, and a gun pointed at his head. Since I knew he hadn’t brought a weapon, I figured he’d taken it off the guy.
“You probably should get better security,” I told Nate, smirking. “Nothing to say to that?” I taunted. “It’s okay. I don’t need you to say anything. I can’t fucking stand the sound of your voice.
“All we need to get clear is that you are to keep my future wife’s name out of your fucking mouth. Today, tomorrow, and with every day that passes from here on out. This is your first and last warning. Be grateful I chose to give you one.”
I pushed away from him, releasing the hold I had on his throat. He doubled over, coughing and struggling to breathe.
Standing over him, I trembled with the urge to punch the shit out of him again. The only thing that held me back was knowing that soon Lena would be able to cut ties with this scumbag once and for all.
She was steadily writing. With each passing day, she grew closer to completing her album on her terms and how she wanted it done.
I was proud to see her in her element, and I didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize that.
“I should call the damn police,” Nate said as I backed up toward the door.
“Do it.” I wanted to see him act like a bitch and call the police.
He didn’t move, but he continued to glare at me.
“What I thought.”
“You’re a fucking professional fighter. Your hands are deadly weapons or some shit. You will go to jail for attempted murder.”
Preston sucked his teeth. “Not that bullshit rumor again.”
I chuckled. “You’re trying to manage fighters and don’t even know that’s a fucking myth?” I clicked my tongue and shook my head. “No wonder Eli or any other serious fighter hasn’t signed with you.”
That got Nate riled up as he beat his fist against the wall. But he didn’t come after me or Preston, who still held a gun on his security. He wasn’t that stupid.
“You keep your hands out of the fighting world. Leave it to the people who know what the hell we’re doing.” I circled the room with my gaze, pausing as I glanced over at the guy still in the booth, staring wide-eyed between Nate and me.
“Focus on your other endeavors. You’re going to need that focus once Lena finishes this album and is no longer contractually obligated to you.”
I scowled at him, my fingers still twitching to pummel his damn face, but I held back.
“I think you’ve proven your point,” Preston said. “It’s time to go.”
I moved to the door and waited for Preston to hand the security back his gun.
“Nothing personal,” Preston told Tiny as he handed the gun back after he removed all of the rounds, including the one in the clip.
“You’re going to regret coming at me like this,” Nate finally said right as I stepped outside of the studio.
I started back for him, but Preston held me back by the chest. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Come the fuck on, Gabe,” Preston growled. “His ass is just talking shit. You know this.”
It always amazed me when people got balls once your hand was no longer around their neck.
