Page 98 of After Hours

I rolled my eyes. “No, it’s not Camilla.”

He looked around, dropped his jaw in shock, and exclaimed, “You’re with the assistant? Isn’t she a student? What?”

“Ronan,” I sighed, “how is this relevant?”

“I’m your best friend; of course, it’s relevant.”

“You all are ins—”

“Dillon,” Lucio called out and rose from the mat, “can I have a minute?” I could see the distress in his eyes, which meant something was wrong with him or with her.

I gave him the nod to approach me, and his words ignited anger within me.

“I’ll be back soon,” I informed the group and made my way out of the room.

“Wait!” Ronan protested, “where are you going?”

“Out.” The more he talked, the angrier I became. “I shot you once. I will do it again.”

“But we’re—”

“Let him go, Ro. Knock it off,” Mikkel hissed.

I slammed the door and rushed down the stairs to my Aston Martin. The roads were slick and wet, but I didn’t care; I had to get to her. I never thought I’d be driving like a lunatic just because my girlfriend was standing in the rain in a dark alley outside her therapist’s office.

She was standing under a crooked bus stop, drenched from head to toe. Her discomfort was evident, and that made me uneasy.

“Don’t speak. Just get inside.” It wasn’t my intention to project my anger but seeing her like this made me frustrated.

“I’ll get your seats wet.”

“I don’t care about the seats. I can buy eight more cars, but I can’t get eight more of you. So get in, or I’ll bring you in myself.” Did she not understand how far I was willing to go for her? Did she think it was a sick joke?

Breathe, Dillon, breathe. She was probably flustered, and I didn’t want to be an asshole.

I couldn’t tell what was going on in her mind. I just wanted to protect her from whoever was responsible for her current state.

“I’m cold. Can we turn down the AC, please?”

The rain was getting heavier by the minute and I could barely see the road, so I pulled over, my fingers gripping the steering wheel extremely tight.

“I don’t think it’s wise for us to have sex in a car; I’m not in the mood,” she said, staring into my eyes.

“That’s not why I pulled over or why I’m taking my shirt off. Put this on.” I removed my button-down shirt and handed it to her. The shirt would fit like a dress and cover her body adequately. If her underwear was wet, I’d give her mine.

“What are you going to wear? I’m sorry for the sex comment; I’m just not okay, and—.” She burst into tears, and I drew her close. I’ve never wanted to see her like this and whoever was responsible, needed to count their fucking days.

“I hate seeing you like this,” I said, gently stroking her hair. “You’re staying with me. I don’t trust anyone else to take care of you except me.”

She made me feel weak, which was a new and unnerving sensation. I’d witnessed bears fighting, lions bursting through zoo gates, killed people in broad daylight, and done many unspeakable things, but I had never felt this kind of vulnerability. I hated the feeling, but I would count every stone on the ground and every grain of sand on the beach if it meant she’d be happy.

We arrived on the top floor using the back entrance to avoid any cameras capturing her.

Approaching the door, the sound of deep masculine voices frightened me. I forgot I had friends over.

“Wow, she’s so—”

“Ronan, if I were you, I’d think carefully about the next word that comes out of your mouth.”

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