Page 111 of Lucky Laces
“Let me go,” he cries, grabbing at my hand, trying to dislodge me.
“Diana made it clear that she’s done with you,” I say, squeezing more tightly.“Imade it clear that I’m done with her having to deal with you, so whythe fuckare you here?”
He chokes, probably because my hand is gripping the neck of his sweatshirt and I haven’t let up.
“You need to leave, to not come back.Fucking ever.Do you get me?”
He’s turning purple, still choking, but I don’t release him.
“You don’t need to speak to nod your fucking head, asshole.”
His nods are akin to a bobblehead, but I think I’ve made my point.
“Problem?”I hear.
Jean-Michel is standing there, a smile on his face that is nowhere near amused.
I’ve seen the man in the midst of the team’s playoff battle.I’ve seen him with his daughters.I’ve even seen his tolerating a gaggle of cats chewing on his shoelaces.
But I haven’t seen the icy edge of what made him a billionaire before the age of thirty.
That edge is in sight right now, though.
And because of that, I don’t hesitate to throw Jason under the bus.
“This is Jason,” I say.“Diana’s ex.”
“That, I’m aware of,” he replies, making it very clear he’s not a fan.Still, he asks, “Is there a reason you’re choking him out?”
“He’s been harassing Dee.”I scowl.“Even though she’s made it more than clear that she doesn’t want anything further to do with him.”
Swear to fuck, but the temperature around us drops a half-dozen degrees.
And if I thought Jean-Michel was scary before, his expression is fucking terrifying now.
“Pascal.”He nods to the right, and draws my attention to a man—almost my size, a fearsome expression on his face, and his manner military in a I’ll-fuck-you-up-and-stash-you-in-unauthorized-black-site-location-never-to-be-seen-or-heard-from-again way.
“I’ll handle it,” he says quietly.
Jean-Michel nods.
Then glances over at me and flicks up his brows.
Right, the whole still choking the fucker thing.
I force myself to loosen my grip, and Jason falls to the ground, hands clutching at his neck as he gasps for air.
Ignoring Jason, Jean-Michel turns to Pascal and they start quietly talking.
Dee bugs her eyes out at me.
Since my anger is rapidly fading—Jean-Michel’s cool demeanor washing over me and taking it away—I draw Dee into my side, murmur, “It’s all good, sweetheart.”
“I—” A shake of her head.“How is…that“—a nod at Jason—”all good?”
“It’s all good,” Jean-Michel says as he calmly steps over Jason’s body, “because Pascal is going to make certain Jason never bothers you again.”
The words have gone from cool…to bitingly cold.
