Page 63 of The Red Zone
“Gordon Sandoval.” Her voice broke halfway through croaking out his name. “He—he’s sitting on the front row in a paisley suit.”
“I’m going to kill him.” I broke apart from her body to stand, and pushed off the ground, headed straight toward the door.
“No, no…” She tugged firmly against the hem on the back of my pants. “Please don’t leave me.”
The blatant fear in her eyes sent a new ripple of anger toward this guy coursing through my veins. But the fresh tears that spilled down her cheeks were what kept me locked in place.
How was I supposed to say no to her?
“I’m right here, baby,” I whispered, pulling her firmly to my chest once again.
“I can’t go out there until he’s gone.”
“I’ll handle it.”
I pulled my phone from my back pocket and quickly thumbed out a group text to Abel and Scarlett.
October
Gordon Sandoval. Front row. Paisley Suit. Abel, can you take care of him for me?
Scarlett
Holy shit. Holy shit!
Where’s Mae?
I’ve got her.
A couple minutes passed without a sound, until I heard the muffled sound of gas on the opposite side of the door. Immediately followed by a thunderous thwack of a fist connecting with a jaw. In the years I’d been playing competitive sports, I’d grown to know that sound well.
A few seconds later my phone buzzed.
Abel
Consider it fucking resolved.
A pent-up breath expelled from my lungs as I rubbed the back of Mae’s hair. “He’s gone.”
The sigh that expelled from her lungs was so substantial it took her a handful of deep breaths to regulate her breathing again.
Abel might not have been my favorite dude in the world, but him helping me out right there— more importantly, running to Mae‘s aid without hesitation—made me rethink my preconceived notions about him.
“Why are you being so nice? I thought you didn’t like me.”
“You’ve said that before, and I’m going to give you the same answer I gave you a few weeks ago… that’s the least of my concerns right now.” Her face softened as she gave me a weak smile before placing her head on my chest and melting into me with a sigh. “Now, are you going to tell me who Gordon Sandoval is, or am I going to have to go get answers out of him myself?”
“He used to be my boss,” she started, her voice barely above a whisper. Before she continued, she sucked in a measured breath and pushed it out, almost like she needed to gather strength in order to finish. “Until I found out he and some of the photographers were stealing money from some of the underaged girls he represented and using the money to fund some kind of child exploitation scheme.”
“Were you ever…”
“Did he steal from me? Yes. But I was an adult by the time I realized it. Thankfully, I never got caught up in any of the other dirty antics he involved himself in. I was careful. Made sure he had nothing on me from when I was underage, before I spoke out. I don’t know… I just couldn’t sit around and stay silent.”
“I’d expect nothing less,” I smarted-off. “Putting that spirited attitude to good use.”
That line won me a faint laugh, and a small smile that sounded like music to my damn ears.
“Yeah, I thought so too. But when I went to the press about it, he found a way to exile me from the industry, and suddenly all of the brands and companies that I had been working with for years had found loopholes to nullify our contracts.”
