Page 29 of Together We Burn
“Stefany?” I called after her when her hand reached the handle.
“I’m fine, Jake,” she said, then opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. Leering hollers and catcalls echoed into the room, and my blood boiled.
Storming after her, I pulled the door closed behind me–didn’t need anyone alerting Martinez’s henchmen of his murder before the cops came–and ran down the hallway until I reached Stefany’s side and wrapped a possessive arm around her waist. She tried to shrug out my hold, but I gripped it tighter.
“Just let me do this, Stefany.” She tilted her head up, her lips parting slightly at the sincerity on my face. “Please.”
I needed this. The feeling of her against me soothing the desperation to gouge out the prying eyes of everyone gaping at her dressed in nothing but my shirt that kissed the tops of her thighs, revealing her long legs to the hungry vultures we passed. Without words, Stefany sidled closer, like her body was trying to seek warmth from mine.
Together, we walked toward the main dance floor, when I felt her tremble beneath my hand. I wanted to ask why she was shaking, but the stoic expression on her face stopped the words from coming. Weakness was not something that could be afforded at a time like this, so while I could feel her fragility beneath my palm, I wasn’t going to draw attention to it.
We approached the main bar, and her icy stare melted when a girl raced up to us, her eyes falling to the faint bruises that had started to appear on Stefany’s neck.
“Mercedes? What…” she asked, gesturing to her and then clutching at her own neck like it was her who had the marks.
Shit, maybe I was a bit too rough.
“I’m fine, Abby,” Stefany cut in, putting a hand on the girl's shoulder and pulling her close to whisper in her ear. “Get Isaac and go.”
Abby’s shock quickly morphed into panic, stretching across the delicate features of her face that had been made hard by layers of eyeliner and mascara.
I pulled Stefany back into my side, moving my hand to splay across her stomach. Abby didn’t miss a beat and dropped her eyes to my hand, then darted back to Stefany’s face.
“What happened? Where’s Martinez? What’s going on?” she asked in quick succession before lowering her voice. “Is he yourboyfriend?”
“Yes,” I answered for Stefany as she clipped, “No.”
“Regardless,” I said, narrowing my eyes at the side of Stefany’s face, “You need to leave. Now. Do as Mercedes asked, and get out.”
Abby threw her arms around Stefany’s middle, quickly hugging her while she stood frozen. Eventually, she patted awkwardly between Abby’s shoulders and pushed her off. With a sheepish smile, the young girl ran behind the bar, spoke quickly into a boy's ear, then made for where I assumed the changing rooms were.
I watched as the boy darted to the cash register, quickly glanced over his shoulder, and grabbed handfuls of cash before stuffing them into his jeans pockets and following in the direction of Abby.
Smart move, kid.
“We should go too, Stefany,” I said, pulling her toward the changing rooms. But she didn’t move. Well, not in the direction I wanted. Instead, she disentangled herself from my hold and poked her finger into my chest.
“Back the hell up, Jake. I don’t need some asshole pretending to be my knight in shining armour when really, your suit is made of spray-painted plastic.”
I gaped at the sudden mood change as she turned on her heel and stormed toward the “staff only” door, not looking back once.
Chapter twelve
Stevie
Myhearthammeredbeneathmy ribs, and my skin burned like there was an outline of his large hands etched across my stomach. Anger, which was fast becoming a permanent emotion, made my fingers tingle as I thought about how fucking stupid I’d been to let lust take over like that.
Tears pricked behind my eyes as I leaned against the changing room door and I dug the heels of my hands into them, beyond pissed at my reaction. When did I become a walking blob of hormones?
He was the enemy. I needed to remember that.
An enemy with a magical cock.
Fuck!
Abby and Isaac had already left by the time I entered the staff room, which I was thankful for. The young girl, barely over seventeen, reminded me of Chris so much that it hurt.
God, I missed her.
