“I wasn’t. Hallie was.”
She gasps and presses a hand over her lips, the color draining from her face. “Is she…?”
“She’ll be okay.”
“Thank goodness.” Her shoulders sag and she drops her trembling hand back to her purse, fiddling with the clasp. “I’m so sorry, Sterling.”
I stare at her. I might have considered her a friend once. But after what she did to Hallie, tipping off the press like I suspect she did, and the things she said about the two of us being together, I can barely stomach looking at her.
“I have to go.”
I step past her, but she reaches for my arm. “Wait?—”
“Boss?” Denver calls, striding down the corridor toward us.
“What is it?”
Something about the low pull of his brows and set of his jaw has every muscle in my body tensing. He walks right up to us, ignoring Lavinia as he holds my eyes.
“They made an arrest. He’s been brought to the hospital to get checked over.”
“Rory?” I growl.
Denver gives me a stiff nod. “He said you had it coming after the incident with the two hook…” His eyes flick to Lavinia. “He wanted to destroy any evidence you had of it.”
“Where is he?” I spit.
Denver’s eyes darken.
“You better damn well tell me. Rory’s going to wish he stayed inside my club and burned his way to hell when I get my hands on him.”
I step toe to toe with Denver, but he doesn’t flinch. He knows my anger isn’t aimed at him.
“He’s got two cops with him.” He inclines his head toward a corridor leading off from where we are.
I storm past him with one thing on my mind.
Killing that son of a bitch.
The second I round the corner, he’s there, being escorted by two uniformed officers.
“You piece of shit!”
I land one punch straight on his nose, knocking him flat out on the floor.
His hands fly to his face, and he howls like a coward.
“Get the hell up!” I growl, stepping forward and grabbing him around the neck, squeezing his windpipe.
“Boss.” Denver appears next to me, his voice lowering as he leans in close. “They let you have that one punch. But I won’t let you get yourself arrested if you kill him. He’ll get what’s coming to him.”
I grit my teeth and look at both cops. Neither are helping Rory, who’s desperately clawing at my hand in silence because I’m cutting off his air. Instead, they’re looking between Denver and I like they’re questioning their decision.
My grip tightens on Rory’s neck, and I look into his panicked eyes and savor the feel of his miserable life being leached from his body beneath my palm.
“You piece of shit,” I snarl, before throwing him back against the floor, making his head bounce off it.
He coughs and splutters as the two cops grab him under each arm and haul him to his feet.
