I’m scared.
And that feeling is one I’m a lot less comfortable with.
Finally I look back at her.
“Did he say anything else?” I ask.
Rae hesitates.
Then she nods once.
“He told the guy who dropped me off to give Wayne a message.”
My stomach tightens.
“What message?”
She meets my eyes again.
“That the price just went up.”
I breathe in slowly through my nose, forcing the air deep into my lungs like that alone might help me get my temper under control. It doesn’t work very well. The anger is still there, sitting hot and heavy in my chest, and it takes every ounce of discipline I’ve got not to let it spill out all over the room.
Because I’m furious.
Furious at her for doing something so reckless.
Furious at myself for not realizing she’d try something like this.
And most of all… furious at Voss.
The image of his hand hitting her flashes through my mind again, and something dark twists hard in my gut. My jaw tightens as I look down at the bruise forming across her cheek, and it takes everything in me not to walk straight back out the door, get on my bike, and handle the problem tonight.
Because the truth clawing its way through my chest is simple.
She’s not his to touch.
She’s mine.
And nobody touches what’s mine.
I push that thought down before it shows on my face, but it’s still there, burning under the surface while I shift my grip and stand up with her still in my arms. Rae lets out a quiet little sound of surprise when I lift her again, but she doesn’t fight it this time. Instead she automatically loops one arm around my neck, her fingers curling into the back of my shirt as she steadies herself.
The room goes quiet again as I turn toward the door.
“Wayne,” I say.
He’s standing near the bar watching all of this with a look that’s somewhere between worried and exhausted.
“Give me your keys.”
Wayne blinks.
“My keys?”
“Yeah.”
He reaches into his pocket automatically and tosses them to me, though his expression is still confused.
