I adore her. More than she’ll ever know.
“You like that?”
I turn toward the voice and immediately recognize the piece of shit talking to me. Of course, it’s the jackass that got my girl moved to New York. I don’t like to be surprised—most hunters don’t. I can’t make up my mind whether to thank him for bringing her to me or to confront him for hurting her. Maybe I’ll do both.
“Excuse me?” I reply, taking a good look at Greg.
I wasn’t sure he’d show up tonight, but clearly the man has a death wish. Wait until Aaron gets here. Ialmostfeel bad for the guy.
“I was just asking if you’re into that. Because I can give you a few pointers or maybe tell you to stay away,” Greg says, nodding to where Zoe is standing.
Downing the last of my whiskey, I leave the glass on the counter and approach him slowly.
“You mean the woman who is way out of your league on every level?”
“Woah. Didn’t mean to offend. You know her or something?” He raises his hands.
“Or something,” I mutter.
It’s funny how quickly the smug expression on his face disappears.
“Shit, man… I’m really sorry. But, if I may?—”
“You may not,” I snap.
I don’t even bother casting him a glance, my eyes following Zoe as I try to calm down and not rearrange this asshole’s face right here at the bar. I can wait until the guys get here and we can quietly take him outside.
When I look back, Greg looks up from his phone, then down again, appearing more confused than a rodent about to run across a busy intersection.
“Shit. You’re Dominik Lewis. You play for the Slashers! That’s so cool. Wait, are you dating Zoe Jackson? There is an article here. No fucking way.”
I’m sure Zoe would understand if I spilled a little blood. Wouldn’t she be happy I took care of her Greg problem forever? It would be a beautiful display of affection.
Goddamn intrusive thoughts.
“Am I missing something here?” I grit my teeth, knowing I should probably leave before things get ugly, but I rarely do what I’m supposed to.
What fun would that be?
Greg laughs, and the sound irritates me more than his face.
“Sorry, I’ve had a few shots and my filter is gone. This event was supposed to be mine, but your ‘girl’”—he puts the word in air quotes with his small fingers—“stole it from me. Her client fired me even though this was my account in Boston. So I’m a little bitter. I’m sure you can understand why I reacted like that.”
Leaning in close to Greg, I smirk, making sure he can hear my next words clearly.
“The only thing I understand is that you’re a small-minded man-child who can’t even locate the clitoris. I’m going to leave you be right now because I know how hard Zoe worked to make sure tonight goes smoothly, and I won’t have you ruin it for her. But if I were you, I’d start looking for another job. And maybe get the fuck out of here before I mess you up.”
He reeks of vodka and yesterday’s mistakes.
Greg looks a little stunned. “Are you threatening me?”
I remain silent as he begins to walk away, but suddenly, I grab hold of his small arm. “Oh, and one more thing. You’re going to apologize right this second for what you did to her, or I’m going to make sure you’ll never get off again. And after, if you so much as look in Zoe’s general direction or speak her name, I’ll pluck out your eyeballs and feed them to you.”
His eyes widen, and he quickly pulls his arm back right as I push him away. “What the fuck is wrong with you, dude?”
I give him an expectant look and gesture toward Zoe, encouraging him to keep going. I wonder if he’s going to make a run for it, but he turns and heads to where Zoe is standing with Via.
I watch the entire interaction, taking in Via’s spitfire expression and immediately liking her more for protecting my girl. I note the way Zoe shrinks but doesn’t show any signs of weakness on that beautiful face. Greg’s back is facing me, so I have no idea what he’s saying, but Zoe barely looks at him before she walks away. He turns to me and flips his middle finger. I nonchalantly wave and smile, relishing the thought of thoroughly dismantling his miserable life.
