“My friend, I fear there must be some misunderstanding,” Dixon said quickly, then spun, taking Raiden by the arm and pivoting to toss him against the wall instead. “I prefer this position.”
Raiden roared and kicked himself off the wall, knocking both of them to the concrete. All of Lawrence’s muscles tightened into one big knot as he watched, trying to sputter out some explanation, anything to make them stop. There was a rage in Raiden’s eyes that shook him, and Dixon’s glare carried a heavy threat with it. The two men scrambled to their feet, and instantly, Raiden plowed ahead again, throwing punches that Dixon dodged by swerving and ducking as he danced backward.
Lawrence was dizzy and confused. He couldn’t believe what he was staring at.
Were they fighting over him?
“Raiden!” he called out again. “Stop!”
Raiden turned, his eyes wide as he met Lawrence’s gaze, and in that brief moment, Dixon dropped to his knee and kicked the back of Raiden’s legs, knocking him down.
Raiden landed on his back with a grunt. “I’ll fucking kill you!” he roared, then jumped to his feet, but Lawrence managed to throw himself between the men before he could make another move.
“Wait,” he gasped. “It’s not what it looked like! He wasn’t hurting me!”
Raiden stood in a fighter’s pose, his brow tightened as he shifted his weight from side to side. The light behind him cast a shadow over the alley, and Lawrence could see the fire in his expression. On Lawrence’s other side, Dixon straightened his suit and brushed dirt off his pants, inspecting himself so casually it was like nothing had happened at all.
“What the hell is this guy doing shoving you around in an alley, then?”
Dixon frowned, then popped his wrists out of his jacket sleeves. “Maybe the better question is what the hell are you doing shoving me around in an alley? This suit is Tom Ford, you know.”
Raiden growled low.
“It’s my fault,” Lawrence said quickly. “I was smoking a joint, and I guess I was trying to flirt, but then I burned myself. He was just catching my hand before I hit him in the face—it’s really fine!” He turned, then laid his hand on Dixon’s arm. “I met him last week. His name is Dixon.”
Raiden snarled, burning his gaze straight into Dixon’s eyes. He didn’t look calmed down. In fact, he looked angrier, as though Lawrence flirting with Dixon made him jealous in a way all the strangers on the dance floor didn’t.
“If only Lawrence here had someone to look out for him,” Dixon said dryly, shooting Raiden a stink eye back. “God knows what will happen to him when he’s out wandering the city, all alone.”
Raiden threatened Dixon by lunging forward, still glaring. “God knows what could happen to you after my fist wanders all over your face.”
“As lovely as this alleysoireeis,” Dixon answered quickly, “I know when it’s time to make my exit.” He nodded to Raiden, then to Lawrence. “Gentlemen.”
“Wait,” Lawrence said. “You don’t have to leave.” An idea started forming, taking shape in a cloud of weed smoke and confusion. “Let me make it up to you first. To both of you.”
Raiden and Dixon turned. They both raised an eyebrow at the same time, which almost made Lawrence giggle. “What are you talking about?” Raiden asked, his voice lighter as he addressed Lawrence directly.
“It’s my fault that this happened in the first place. I knew you would be looking for me, Raiden, and I’m the one that almost hit Dixon. I got you both in this situation. Let’s get out of here. I’ll buy a round to smooth it over.”
“What?” Raiden asked, rubbing the back of his head. “I’m not going to—”
“I’d be delighted!” Dixon answered brightly. “A very nice offer, Lawrence. This is all just a misunderstanding, as you say, and nothing like a friendly cocktail to get past a misunderstanding.”
Raiden looked as though someone had just grabbed his lunch out of his hands and thrown it on the ground. “You want me to go out for drinks with him?”
Lawrence shrugged his shoulders. Raiden had just come bursting to his rescue again, and it felt good to have someone protecting him, but he couldn’t stop himself from pushing his bodyguard’s buttons, too. All of his usual flirtations were falling flat, and for some reason, Dixon seemed to provoke something out of Raiden. “I suppose you could call it a night, if you don’t want to join us.”
Raiden’s jaw tightened. He looked back and forth between Lawrence and Dixon like he was trying to solve an equation, then rubbed the heel of his palm against his forehead.
“Fine,” he said. “It’s not like I’ve got anything else going on.”
CASH
At a quiet basement cocktail bar down the street, Cash should have been pumping Lawrence for information. This gig and Reed’s resources provided his best shot yet at infiltrating Horizon Zed, but Cash, uncharacteristically, felt like drawing things out a little longer instead.
Maybe he had left himself get a little too lonely. Outside of other mercenaries like Fox, he didn’t really have any friends to speak of. It came with the territory. When you devoted your life to seeking impossible justice, there wasn’t really a lot of spare time for chitchat.
But sitting in the big red booth at the back of the bar, one dim lamp hanging above them, Cash realized he was actually enjoying himself. There was something kind of hot about the way Raiden and Lawrence kept glancing at each other, with Lawrence slowly scooting across the booth and Raiden shoving his big body further and further into the corner, even as he draped his arm over the back of the seat, right above Lawrence’s shoulders.
