What the fuck was this now?
The gate was already open when we pulled up, and there was an unfamiliar Mercedes-Benz parked in my driveway, still running. Hip-hop blazed out into the night, along with the voices of what sounded like three or four guys in the car.
And there was my sister’s best friend, Angeline, wearing nothing but a giant, almost knee-length T-shirt and fuzzy pink slippers, trying to climb out of the Benz. While detangling herself from the seatbelt that had somehow followed her halfway out—and the grabby hands of some guy in the front seat.
I saw red. Literally.
It was like the rain on the windshield in my nightmare, everything in my vision suddenly turning to blood.
I got out of my car. Angeline was saying something aboutThanks for the ride!andHave a nice night!in a fake-cheerful, slurry voice. And I heard the guys in the Benz—more than one of them—trying to convince her of something.
Adrenaline and an all-consuming anger lashed through my veins. I was moving forward, booze and rage and a terrible, sick dread squeezing like a fist in my gut as fight or flight kicked in.
Fight.
I didn’t care that I was outnumbered. I didn’t care that I didn’t have a weapon. My reaction was automatic and total. It surged up from a dark, deeply buried place inside me as I laid my hand on Angeline’s shoulder.
“Touch her again,” I growled at the assholes in the car, in a voice that hardly sounded like my own. “I dare you.”
ChapterFive
Johnny
Iwatched the security gate shut after the assholes in the Mercedes took off, my heart still thudding but gradually slowing to a more normal pace. I shut the front door, clenching my jaw with anger.
As I turned to Angeline, she wobbled. I swooped in and grabbed her around the waist before she could fall on her ass. The way she’d wrapped herself around me while I walked her up to the house, I thought it was a show for the guys in the retreating car. But nope. The girl was falling down drunk. Literally.
Way drunker than I was, that was for fucking sure. The whole bullshit mess in the driveway had shocked me sober, maybe.
Maybe I should’ve let Lamar come inside and help me with this. After he’d caught my fist, though, stopping me from breaking that grabby asshole’s face—something I’d be thankful for tomorrow—I’d been pretty pissed. As soon as I got Angeline into the house, I told him to go home. After making sure the gate was secure and those guys were long gone, he’d disappear into his suite around the far side of the house.
Fuck.I should’ve thanked him for doing what he was paid to do, which was make sure no one, most of all me, got hurt. But I just couldn’t see past the rage pumping through my veins.
I realized I was still breathing hard as I held onto Angeline. I hadn’t felt anything like that… hadn’t felt much at all… in a long damn time.
Actually… I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt anything even close to that. It was disorienting.
I tried to tell myself it was the alcohol that was fucking with my head or something. Fucking with my emotions.
But that was wrong. Nothing fucked with my emotions.
Because I didn’t really have any.
I looked down at Angeline. She’d sagged in my arms, clinging to me, but she seemed to gather her wits when our eyes met and pushed away. “You cost me my job, asshole,” she slurred.
“What?”
“My job. Gone. Because ofyou.” She jabbed me in the chest with her finger.
“What job?” Last I heard, she’d never had one. “That internship thing?”
“That internship thing,” she parroted, mocking me with a voice that sounded nothing like mine but did sound like a snarky dick, “was a big deal to me! And you. Ruined. It.” More chest jabs.
I wrapped my hand around her finger, disabling her weapon of choice. “I didn’t ruin anything.” What the hell was she talking about?
She burst out laughing, wavering on her feet again. My arm went around her again, pure instinct, and she ripped her finger from my hand. But she didn’t push away this time. “You flirted! At the fundraiser! To ruin me!”
I scowled. “Explain.”
