I slam my fist into the wall beside his head, making him flinch. He tries to jerk his chin up, feigning some bravado bullshit.
I lower my voice to a bone-chilling whisper. “Come near her again and I will take you apart piece by piece.” I press my forehead against his, pinning his head to the wall. “And if Monty wants, I’ll feed him your tiny dick, then let him shit it out in Central Park.”
Brad swallows, but his Adam’s apple gets stuck above my fist, and he makes a weird gurgling sound instead.
“You don’t want to know what my body count is,” I snarl. “But you’d be the first one I’d actually enjoy.”
I drop him like a sack of shit, and he bends over, coughing and clutching at his neck.
“You’re a fucking psycho.”
I wait until he lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine. “I’m glad we understand one another,” I say calmly.
He stands and his eyes flick to something behind me.
“Denver!” Sinclair yells as she runs out of an elevator. “What the hell are you doing?”
Brad straightens up, his attention bouncing between the two of us. “You need to hire some new fucking help,” he says, coughing.
My upper lip curls against my teeth with a snarl as I step toward him.
“I’m going, Sin. Will you be okay?” he asks her.
“I’ll be fine,” she says, rushing to my side as Brad backs away.
His eyes continue to ping-pong between us. “Be careful with this motherfucker.”
“Just go, Brad!” she snaps as I take another step toward him, my fist clenched.
Sinclair wraps an arm around my bicep and pulls me back. “Leave him,” she begs. “He didn’t do anything. I told you, I’m fine.”
I look at her and her eyes have recovered their usual fiery defiance. She no longer looks like she’s upset or has been crying. She looks ready to go into battle. I turn my body toward her fully, ignoring Brad as he takes the opportunity to get out of the building at a run.
“Why did you do that?” she snaps. “I told you I was fine. He could report you for assault.”
“He won’t.”
She glares at me. “It would serve you right if he did. I can’t believe you!”
“He made you cry,” I grit.
“No!” she cries. “He didn’t! I don’t know why I’m even…” She throws her arms up in the air. “Why didn’t you listen to me?”
“Sinclair?” I reach for her, but she’s already stomping back toward the elevators. “Tell me what the hell he was doing here?” I snap at her retreating back.
I race after her and get inside just before the doors close.
39
SINCLAIR
I standwith my arms folded and eyes fixed on the elevator display as it ascends.
“You need to trust me,” I say quietly.
Denver blows out a rough breath. “I do. But I don’t trust him. And I’m right to not fucking trust him. Look how he’s treated you.”
“He’s done nothing,” I snap, whirling to face him head-on. “Just… I can’t even…” I shake my head, finding it too hard to look at him.
