I look down to find Ginger, her fake red hair falling over one eye as she smirks up at me, fingers still trying to curl around the front of my jeans. “Hey, Hawk,” she purrs, the sultriness in her voice making my skin crawl. “Been looking for you all night.”
Rage ignites instantly. I grab her wrist and rip it away from me, my voice low and dangerous. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
For a split second, her smile falters, but then she leans in closer, pressing her chest toward me in a desperate attempt to regain my attention. “Oh come on,” she says, her tone dripping with feigned sweetness. “You weren’t complaining last time—”
I step forward, towering over her, my anger palpable. “Listen real fucking carefully,” I growl.
Her smile dies completely, fear taking its place. “If you ever grab my dick again, I’ll have you banned from this club for life.”
Her eyes widen in shock, and she stammers, “You don’t mean—”
“I mean exactly what I said.” My voice drops lower, more menacing. “You touch me again, and you’ll never step foot on this property again.”
For a moment, she just stares, processing my words, then scoffs, tossing her hair over her shoulder defiantly. “Whatever,” she mutters before disappearing back into the crowd.
I don’t even watch her go. My focus is elsewhere, and I’m pushing for the exit, the cold night air hitting me like a slap in the face. But it does nothing to douse the fire boiling under my skin. Something is wrong.
Emma doesn’t just lose her shit like that for no reason. Which means something must have happened in that hallway, and there’s only one way to uncover the truth.
As I approach the fire pit, the guys look up, their expressions shifting from casual to concerned. Riot leans back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. “Hawk looks like he’s about to kill someone.”
Diesel snorts, clearly amused. “Club girl finally piss you off?”
I ignore their banter, pacing near the railing as I try to gather my thoughts. Ghost appears a moment later, cigarette already dangling from his lips. “Alright,” he says, his tone serious. “What’s up?”
“Office,” I reply tersely.
He doesn’t ask questions; he just follows me inside. The noise of the bar fades as we move through the hallway toward the back office. The moment the door shuts behind us, I run a hand through my hair, frustration boiling over.
“Emma just slapped the shit out of me,” I say, my voice low but heavy with emotion.
Ghost’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “She what?”
“Accused me of fucking someone in here.”
Ghost blinks, his expression shifting to one of disbelief. “Did you?”
“Jesus fucking Christ, no,” I snap, my anger flaring again.
He shrugs slightly, trying to keep things light. “Just checking.”
I glare at him, the tension in the room thickening. “I came in here to grab her a sweatshirt. I was in the bathroom closet.”
Ghost is already at the computer, his fingers flying over the keyboard. “Alright, let’s see what happened.”
The security system hums to life as he pulls up the hallway cameras, and footage begins to roll back. We watch in silence, the hallway outside my office appearing on the screen.
The door opens.
Ginger walks out, her hair messy and shirt crooked, stretching like she just finished a workout. Ghost slowly turns to me, his expression shifting from curiosity to understanding.
“…Well.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I growl, my blood boiling as I watch the screen.
Emma appears in the hallway seconds later. She stops dead upon seeing Ginger, and even without sound, I can see the change in her posture—shoulders stiffening, hands clenching into fists.
Ghost zooms in slightly, capturing the tension. Ginger leans closer to Emma, saying something that makes Emma’s face crumple in disbelief. My chest tightens in response.
