Page 125 of Falcon

I nod before excusing myself to weave through the crowd in search of a bathroom.

***

The wait is obviously insanely long for the bathroom, but I finally get in, handle my business, freshen up my lipstick in the mirror then step back out into the hallway area.

The hall that leads back down the ballroom is long, and there are multiple seating alcoves every few feet situated into cutouts in the wall with curtains over them, giving whomever is occupying them a bit of privacy for whatever it is they may need them for. I’m assuming the hotel intends them to be used for meetings, but I think everyone knows better at events like this.

Midway down the hallway, one of the curtains that shields one of the alcoves is tossed back and a young girl, maybe eighteen or nineteen years old, comes stumbling out. She’s clearly three sheets to the wind.

A man comes out behind her and grips her upper arm hard enough that she reacts, trying to tug it away, and saying he’s squeezing too hard.

The man is large, nearly as big as Marco, with tan skin and sandy blond hair. He has sleeves of tattoos on each arm and his voice sends chills up my spine.

“Is that a yes, then?” He crowds her into the wall and grips her face in his hands then turns.

I slip behind a curtain, but I peek out to keep an eye on the situation. Her body language isn’t comfortable like someone who wants something like this. Her hands are fisted at her sides and she looks beyond tense.

“Maybe, Braxton,” I hear her say.

Holy shit...Braxton White.

“Wrong answer,” he growls before burying his face in the crook of her neck. She tries to push him off, but he doesn’t stop.

“Braxton, no.”

So many memories rush back to me in this moment.

Saying no. Pushing him away. Wanting to fight harder but being too drunk to be able to.

I wish there had been someone there to step in for me. I wish there had been someone there to protect me.

With that in my mind, my feet move without me even really realizing it.

“Hey,” I say. It’s all I can come up with to at least get their attention, to at least get him to stop touching her.

He turns toward me and I finally get a close look at his face. He is traditionally good-looking, but there is this look in his eye that reads as just...evil.

“I’m a little busy, sweetie. I’ll sign your tits later,” he says and turns his attention back to the girl.

I scoff, disgusted. “Honey, are you okay?” I ask the girl.

She goes to look at me, but he answers for her. “She’s fine. You can go now, Nancy Drew.”

“She doesn’t look okay to me. It seems like she’s trying to push you off and you aren’t letting her.” I stand my ground, not backing down.

He laughs. “Jacy, baby, tell the nice lady that you’re safe as can be with me.”

The young girl, whom is definitely no older than eighteen now that I can see her up close, turns her face toward me. Her bottom lip is trembling and she has tears in her eyes. Her pupils are dilated, telling me she is under the influence of something, be it alcohol or something stronger.

“I’m fine,” she tells me softly.

I don’t believe her, not for a moment. “You do know that you can say no if—”

“That’s enough. Get your fucking nose out of my business and move on,” Braxton growls, turning his entire body to face me, taking a step forward. I instinctively step back out of fear.

He holds my gaze for entirely too long before a smile spreads across his lips.

“Holy shit,” he says. “You’re the one Falcon is fucking this week.”

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