My head’s still spinning from the hit as a mix of angryboosand shouts ofget him outta here!explode throughout the warehouse. The crowd’s moving in, getting way too fucking close, then the hand on my shoulder’s yanked away.
“Fight’s over, my ass!”
“Get the fuck outta here!”
“Who the hell is this guy?”
Ears pounding, I start to turn around, searching for Mr. Everest, when a shoulder knocks me forward, and I stumble straight into Slick.
We lock eyes, Slick’s narrowing.
“Really?” he bites out. “Your babysitter smells like a fucking cop.”
“He’s not a goddamn cop.” I shake my head, trying to focus on the blotchy, blurry face in front of me. “Just get this over with, asshole.”
“Glad to.”
I clench my jaw, readying myself as he pulls that elbow back again. But this time, the strike never comes.
“Enough.”
Ah, shit.
Tim grabs my shirt collar, and I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping by some miracle he’ll stop talking.
He doesn’t.
“This whole thing ends right now.”
Slick laughs, his brows shooting almost to his hairline. “That so?” He looks at me, then at the guys behind him—who I haven’t failed to notice are inching closer. “Well,wesay nothing’s over till we get paid.”
Jerking out of Mr. Everest’s hold, I straighten my shirt and turn to him. For a second, the look he’s wearing stops me cold. He’s as polished as ever, hair and suit meticulous, but his face ... I’ve never seen the man so livid. Didn’t even know he was capable of such an emotion.
Tensing, I lean close and mutter, “Mr. Everest, just walk away. Please. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”
Mr. Everest grits his teeth but doesn’t look at me. Almost like he can’t bring himself to. Shame crawls across my skin at the thought.
“It’s already covered,” he says to Slick, his voice as professional as if they’re making a legit business deal. “You’ll get paid.”
“What?” I shoot a look to Mac, and he swipes his tongue across his lip ring.
“It’s true.” Mac glances from me to Slick, whose eyes are still narrowed into slits. “They stopped him on the way in, but he ...” Looking almost impressed, Mac shrugs. “Well, he negotiated.”
Slick looks as dumbstruck as I feel, but Mr. Everest doesn’t wait for a response. Instead, he meets my gaze, and the warning in his eyes is unmistakable. When he turns and heads toward the exit, I know he expects me to follow. The shame soaking my skin seeps into my pores, but I pick up my feet, pulling my shoulders back as I trail behind him despite feeling like a dog busted for tearing up all the furniture.
Conway was never the protective type, but I wonder if this is what it would have felt like if he were. Filling me with anticipation and dread, not knowing what’s to come.
Is he gonna kick me out of his place? Report me?
We exit the warehouse and walk through the parking lot, my gaze fixed on the back of Mr. Everest’s head, and for some reason, neither eviction nor arrest make me as anxious as trying to guess the expression on his face right now. Just how angry is he?
When we near his Lexus, I clear my throat. “Mr. Everest, I came in my truck. It’s just on the other side—”
“Get in the car, Hunt.”
“Yes, sir.”
The doors unlock, and I slip inside. We both avoid each other as we buckle up, even as he starts the car and pulls out of the lot. With my left eye swelling shut, the slice through my lip burning, and the side of my jaw tender enough to hurt when I open my mouth, I rap my fingers against my jeans, looking anywhere but at the man in the driver’s seat.
