Page 62 of Broken Boss

He slinks to the side, eyes still seeking Autumn. Other patrons are watching; how could they not? The man in front of me is obviously not Bittersweet Roux’s normal clientele. He wears faded jeans, a cheap T-shirt, sneakers that are so dirty, it’s impossible to tell the color. A silver chain glints at his throat as he moves in like a predator.

“Excuse me,” the hostess tries.

Kieran reaches out and shoves her away with no effort. The young woman lets out a strangled yelp and falls back into an older man’s lap. People start talking, the atmosphere picking up with wariness and alarm.

“Autumn.”

Her body goes rigid. I want badly to wrap her in my arms, but something won’t let me take my eyes off this man.

“Autumn. Come here. We need to talk.” He practically growls the last words, his chin dropping to shadow his gaze.

Autumn’s lips are parted. It’s like some kind of internal struggle is happening. Her grip tightens on the knife, and in that instant, I can’t let this go any further. I can’t watch this fear twist her, and I can’t deal with the minuscule thought that she might actually get up and go with him.

“I know who you are.” The words are low, deep, and full of unspoken warning.

Kieran’s eyes flash toward me, reevaluating. That twisted grin is back, pulling weirdly at his cheekbones.

“Mmm, do you, old man?” He takes a step closer. “Then you know just how much Autumn means to me. You know that she’s mine. Aren’t you, baby?”

A shiver goes through her at the words. I see it rack her body from head to toe, and she pulls back, shoulders rounding, a look of panic in her eyes.

“Don’t take another step toward her.”

He barks out a laugh. “Oh, yeah? And what are you going to do about it? You suit wearing crooks, I’ve seen what you’re made of—cowardice.”

That’s oddly pointed, and I tuck it away to consider later. Kieran takes another step closer and I mirror it, flexing my shoulders. We’d be evenly matched if it weren’t for his lean, almost coyote-like build. Rangy, like a fox trying to steal dinner. His eyes glint and so does that chain again.

His gaze snaps to Autumn again and that’s it.

I surge forward, fisting his T-shirt in both hands and walking him back, dragging him toward the entrance. The hostess is huddled against the wall, watching with wide, scared eyes—as are most of the customers. Someone in the kitchen shouts. Blind with anger, I barely notice Gen come out into the dining area, carrying an old-school knife sharpener like a weapon.

“Christopher Sharpe, don’t you dare shove him through my windows.”

Blinking, I realize I was closer to doing so than I thought. Kieran has a surprised look on his face, his own hands gripping my wrists. He’s seconds away from going through the pretty glass plating embossed with Bittersweet Roux.

“Do I need to call the cops?”

Kieran looks startled and tries to jerk away at Gen’s suggestion.

“I just wanted to see her,” he snarls, spit flying from his clenched teeth. “I just wanted to fucking see her. We have unfinished business, you and I!”

His voice is raised, the last remark clearly aimed at Autumn. I let him go with a shove toward the door and he stumbles but still pushes outside.

For a moment he lingers there—a dark shadow out on the sidewalk, looking in. A sense of foreboding drops over me like a curtain. From the silence of the patrons in the restaurant, I can’t help wondering if they feel the same.

“You better go,” Gen murmurs, tipping her head in Autumn’s direction.

She’s still tucked into the chair, leaning back and away from the front of the restaurant, her eyes dull and staring.

“Hey.”

I get down on one knee in front of her. Take her hands, clammy and shaking.

“Hey. Autumn.”

Her eyes meet mine, but they’re not focused, not quite. She’s still scared.

“I told you. I’ll keep you safe. He’s gone. We’ll wait, and when you’re settled, we’ll go home.”

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