“You have ten minutes to leave,” he ordered on a low whisper. “Bring anything you want to see again because you’re not coming back. If you’re not outside in ten minutes, there will be no scene.”
My stomach fell as I tried to imagine what could be worse than the scene I knew he was capable of making. Licking my desert-dry lips, I asked the question I didn’t want to know. “What will there be?”
“Nothing,” he stated, a firm finality in the single word.
With that, he left the room.
Left me.
*******
“I’m not feeling well.” Leaning against the doorframe, I was practically panting. “Sorry, hi. I’m not feeling well.”
It’d taken me a million and ten minutes just to make my way through the crowded club toward the back offices. It was more like five, but it felt much longer.
“What happened tonight?” Charlie asked, tearing his attention from the papers on his desk.
The hairs at the back of my neck stood up, and I knew there was someone behind me.
My eyes darted from the clock on the wall back to Charlie. “Long story. I can tell you tomorrow. But I really don’t feel well.”
“Nothing happened,” a cocky voice said from the doorway.
Hank.
He was the head bouncer, which was funny because his head was massively self-inflated. It was also jammed up his own ass.
My teeth clenched with my desire to argue, but I was on a time crunch.
“This true?” Charlie asked me.
I opened my mouth to agree, but Hank spoke over me. “Some of the girls need thicker skin if they wanna survive in this world. Bunch of special snowflake princesses.”
“Hank,” Charlie warned before raising his brow at me.
“It’s true,” I said, deceptively saccharine. “Hank would know since his ears are so big, he could probably hear everything.”
“The hell did you just say?” Hank asked, a pissed warning in his tone.
One I ignored. “I mean, he probably felt a kinship with those guys since they were mad they didn’t have a chance with us and he’s been striking out with Coco.”
Charlie’s eyes went wide. “Eden—”
“Maybe he can also relate to their, uhh,” I put my hand up, my thumb and forefinger close together, “littleproblem.”
“Turn around and say that to my face, and I’ll show you I’m not lacking.”
I turned and gave him a dazzling smile. “No one’s referring to your ego.”
“You bitch—”
“I’m not touching you. Notphysicallyhurting you. Maybe you should get thicker skin, snowflake.”
“Eden, go home, and we’ll talk later.” Charlie skewered Hank with a look. “You, stay.”
Shoulders back and head held high, I turned toward the door that was mostly blocked by Hank’s impressive frame. He didn’t move as I approached. I could’ve squeezed through the small space he’d left at his side, but I wasn’t letting him win. I met his gaze, the malice and hostility in them clear as he sneered down at me, waiting for me to ask him to move.
I didn’t.