Page 37 of Forbidden Need

“If you’re not family by blood or allegiance, you don’t need to be here,” Connel declared, addressing those in the far corner.

The front door opened.

“You can’t excuse my people,” her father said. “Who do you think you are?”

“You like family business aired in public?” Connel asked.

When she turned to check her father’s reaction, it wasn’t a surprise to see his people shuffling out. Razer McDade held the door. The office lackeys and admin grunts wouldn’t want to face off with men like him and the others at his side. When they were gone, Razer swung the door back into its frame.

“That was easy,” Daly said. “Never any action when Bluebell’s around.”

She smiled at him. Compared to other things he did for the McDades, it was cake. Kind of like finding out her coffee order.

“No one wants to start anything tonight,” Lachlan said, always the voice of reason. “Maybe we should meet tomorrow. Sit down when everyone’s processed this.”

“Good idea,” Connel drawled without pointing out that had been his suggestion already. “Daly get the car. Make sure those people are off the streets.”

Daly saluted with two fingers and went out with Hock and Snuff on his tail.

“You’re not staying?” she asked.

He tucked her hair behind her ear. “You want to share a bed with me through the wall from your brother?”

Okay, she pouted, then nodded. “Not even a little.”

“We’re going to the loft.”

“The loft?”

His attention dropped to hers. “You want to stay at the club?”

“No,” she said and smiled. “The loft works.”

“Go get your shit.”

“You are not walking out of this apartment with my daughter,” her father said before she even reached the bedroom door.

Connel fixed on Razer; a look passed between them. One happy to end the debate once and for all, whether it meant jail or not.

Lachlan must’ve seen it too. “It’s Sersha’s choice,” he said. “You can’t stop her going with him.”

“False imprisonment is a crime,” Strat said.

He’d been quiet until then. He looked pissed. Really pissed and Strat rarely got worked up about anything… unless he was punching Jagg in the face.

“You’re…”

“Imogen’s father,” Lachlan said, helping their dad out.

“How are you involved in this?” her dad asked, looking at Lachlan. “Imogen was here. She left with Sersha.”

“People care about your daughter,” Connel said. “If they didn’t have her best interests at heart, they wouldn’t be allowed near her. It’s as simple as that. I’m not squeamish about doing what’s necessary to ensure her safety.”

“Conn…”

He remained intent on the others. “Get your shit.”

And that was it. Going into the bedroom, she swung Connel’s suit jacket, which had been hanging in her closet forever, around her shoulders and stuffed her laptop and phone into her purse.

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