His mouth lifts as his focus drifts back to me.“For now.But if you’d like me to show you how I treat my enemies, I’d be more than happy to.”
“Not necessary,” Jagger interjects.
“Yet,” Gus returns with a sharpness that would make most men cower.
Yeah, he’s pissed.But so am I.How dare this asshole bring us here to pitch a fit over Hawke tossing Morgan on his ass last weekend and us coming to The Body Shop last night?But the really weird part?All things considered, it doesn’t even make sense.If he ordered our house to be lit on fire, you’d think he’d be acting differently.Maybe a little cocky or smug, like he knows he got his revenge for us trespassing last night, even if we didn’t know we were.But here he is, catering to his little bitch of a nephew.Speaking of which, where is Morgan?
Casually, I twist in my seat and take in the dancer, or at least, I hope that’s what it looks like I’m doing.From my periphery, I search for Gus’s nephew, but he’s missing from the bar.My pulse catches, and I fight the urge to pull out my phone and dial June’s number to make sure she’s okay.Or at the very least, warn Hawke to keep a close eye on the girls.Cobie, June, Violet.
Was this another ploy to lure us away from them?To leave them unprotected.Bile coats the back of my throat, but I keep my expression in check, turning to face Gus again.
“Since your brother isn’t here, would you like to explain why my nephew was kicked out of an event I was hosting last week?”Gus requests.
“I’m sorry,youwere hosting?”I repeat with an,you’ve gotta be shitting melook.
His hollow gaze sharpens.“My property.My guest list.”
“And your cut, which was already paid, so I’m failing to see the issue here,” I volley.
“Unsurprising,” Gus offers.
My jaw locks, and Jagger grabs my leg beneath the table, forcing me to stay seated when all I want to do is bury this bastard.
Mother.Fucker.
I smooth out my features and settle back in my seat.
Satisfied I won’t lose my shit, Jagger leans nearer, closing the distance between Gus and himself.“Like my brother pointed out, Roman delivered your cut, and your nephew is more than welcome to take bets like we agreed, so?—”
“Do you have an issue with our arrangement, Mr.Harden?”Gus questions.
The way he says it makes my frustration inflate all over again.
Stay strong.Do not take the bait.Come on, Ford.You can do it.We’re going for personal growth here.
“Currently?”Jagger replies.“I believe it’s amenable.Like you said the last time we met, there’s nothing wrong with competition.This is capitalism at its finest, right?However, I’m curious how many…” Jagger sighs as if searching for the right word, “amendments to our agreement you plan to bring to the table to sway the even field in your nephew’s favor.”
Here it is.The reason why Jagger is the badass he is and the one we trust.I fight the urge to give the man my applause.
A twitch hits beneath Gus’s eye, proving I’m not the only one surprised by Jagger’s response.
Bravo, big brother.
“Excuse me?”Gus challenges.
“The last time we spoke, you informed us that your nephew should be allowed to take bets?—”
“Would,” he clarifies.“My nephew would be allowed to take bets.”
“Which we agreed to,” Jagger returns.“And now you want to add that he must be included in any and all Harden events.If capitalism is your goal, why is your nephew unwilling to bring any original business ideas to the table instead of poaching off us?”
Damn.Where’s my mic so I can drop it?
Gus tilts his head.“So, your issue is not his attendance, but his lack of original ideas?”
“Our issue is that your nephew’s an asshole,” I quip dryly.
Slowly, Jagger turns to me with a sharp look, and my mouth snaps closed.
