INEEDEDsome air. I’d been on the phone all morning with Asher, and his constant grilling was getting on my nerves. He should just come out and see the hotel for himself, but Natalie was keping him busy with supervising a teenage Quinn while she was chasing the twins and being pregnant.
I got it, though, and I owed him the respect to put up with it.
It was my dad who really pissed me off. I didn’t owe the ass a damn thing. When he called and said he’d love to come out for the opening, to show me what could be managed better, I fucking lost it.
Yeah, he was the brains and brawn behind Wind Resorts, but I knew what the fuck I was doing. I’d been running a successful business for a while, and damn, Asher and I weren’t copying Wind Resorts. We had our own goddamn vision.
On top of all that shit, Lynx wasn’t picking up her phone. She had therapy today, and then she said she was going to hang with Lisa. Now she was fucking MIA, and for some reason, the hairs on the back of my neck were prickling.
Full of fucking nerves, I traded my jeans and Air Force 1s for running shorts and shoes. Tossing my tee on the floor, I grabbed my earbuds and went for a run. It was either that or hit a bottle of JD hard. The latter wouldn’t help anybody or anyone, only my battered ego.
With rap blaring in my ears, I ran the concourse along the ocean, the sun beating on my back, zigzagging to avoid tourists and skaters. It was crowded, and I was trying to pay attention so I didn’t bump into anyone, until I caught a glimpse of long black braids and legs that went for days.
Stopping dead in my tracks, I saw Lynx across the street, standing in front of the Fritz as she argued with Bruno. She had her hand on her hip, her jaw set away from him until in one quick swoop, she turned and slapped his face.
I yanked out my earbuds and hauled ass over there faster than I’d ever run, making it just in time for Bruno to raise his hand in retaliation. Fucker could call my woman names, but strike her? No fucking way.
“Not so fast, tough guy,” I said, wrapping my palm around his wrist and squeezing tightly.
“Oh, look who it is! The pretty boy himself.” Bruno gave me a twisted smile only a sick fuck can make.
“Shut the fuck up, Bruno.”
I used my free hand to pull Lynx close, examining every inch of her. “You okay?”
She nodded, her gaze on the ground.
“Look at me.” When she didn’t, I gave her a little shake. “Look at me.”
Of course, Bruno probably thought my attention was completely diverted, and he tried to skip off. No such luck. I’d been a fucking bouncer for too many years to fall for that one.
“Not so fast, Bruno.” I grabbed him again and dug my fingers into a pressure point in his wrist. His knees buckled a bit but I wanted him alert, so I let go a touch.
“Lynx, look at me!” This time I demanded her attention and got it. “Tell me what this ass wanted.”
Not meeting my eyes, she muttered, “We’re making a scene.”
“I don’t give a shit. Tell me.”
“He wanted to know what I’ve been up to.”
“And?” I asked her, ignoring Bruno’s wince as I squeezed his arm tighter. “He mention the sheik?”
Silence.
“Huh?”
“Yes,” Lynx hissed.
“Hmm, I thought I made it clear a while back, namely when I told you to get the hell out of town, to never utter his name again?” I eyed Bruno, and he refused to meet my gaze.
“It’s my business, dude,” he squeaked out.
“Not anymore.” I let Lynx go and said, “Go to the hotel. Call Sampson at the club and tell him to meet me at Landon’s in Lauderdale. He’ll know where it is.”
I dragged Bruno with me to the curb, letting out a sharp whistle to hail a passing cab.
No matter how hard he tried, Bruno couldn’t wriggle out of my grip. Without his gun, he was no match for me. He was nothing but a washed-up has-been, a weak excuse for a man.
