Page 64 of Pawn

“Damien!” Screaming his name makes others look our way, and the people who do, seem mortified. Disgusted. An old lady clutches her pearls and I never thought I’d see that in live-action. Craig’s trying to fight back, reaching for Damien’s neck, but it’s no use, he’s no match. “Jesus, Damien! Stop!”

“Stay the fuck away from her!” he yells, finger in his face. “I thought I made that clear, Carson!”

“You made it clear you had chlamydia,” a bloodied Craig chuckles, reaching for his nose. “Get the fuck off me, King. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

He’s not wrong. This doesn’t look good for King Financial, for Damien, or me. Looking around, his grip on Craig loosens, that’s when I catch how blown his eyes are.

“What is going on?” A voice comes out of the crowd before a man in a blue suit pushes through. “Craig? Explain!”

The man’s face looks familiar before it hits. It’s the same guy from the photos in that office where I sold Craig a bag of MDMA. Shouldn’t mention that now though.

“Dad?” Craig pushes off the bar, wincing with a battered eye when Damien takes a step back, blinking towards Craig’s dad.

“Start talking and it better be good,” he demands, hands on his hips as his blazer swings behind him. The whole party watches the scene like a goddamn soap opera while Damien looks caught in headlights. A victim to his own rage.

“Why don’t you ask King?” Craig asks, some whispers erupting around us and I’m starting to feel like I’m back at the academy.

“Listen, he …” Damien stalls, and my brows furrow. He never stalls. Craig smirks and I’m not sure what I missed but Damien looks like he needs help.

Sorry, Craig.

“He hit on me when I asked him to stop,” I explain, taking a step forward. Craig’s dad’s eyes drop to my boots. “Damien was protecting me.” Which he was. Albeit in a very aggressive and hostile way.

“By beating my son’s face in?” he asks, his nose twisting at me like everyone else in the room. “This is unacceptable, Damien.” Craig walks towards his father. “It’s a shame. Frederick told me how great your plan is. Too bad I’m about to sue King Financial for everything you have.”

Shit. Everyone still has their eyes on Damien and he looks like he lost the championship game. Defeated.

“Can I get a goddamn medic?” Craig’s dad drops his arms, taking a spin around the room. “A doctor? Now!”

“C’mon,” I say, walking towards Damien. When my hand hits his shoulder, he brushes me off. “Damien?”

No. Not back to this.

Not again.

“I need a minute,” he says, his eyes on the exit. “I’ll meet you by the entrance in twenty minutes. We’ll take a car home.” Reaching behind him, he grabs a bottle from the bar before he looks around him and bows. “Hope you enjoyed the show, everyone.”

As he walks off, the people around us clear a path, stepping back as if he’ll lash out again. There’s no way he’s leaving me. If he’s drinking away his sorrows, I’m right there with him. Taking off in his direction, the crowd whispers and grumbles about the brawl they saw. He’s quicker than I am though, knowing his way around these rooms. By the time I get my jacket, I’ve already lost him, standing in the grand circular foyer.

Shit.

Hitting the button on the elevator, I turn around to see a medic tending to Craig, sitting on a chair. His dad stands beside him with his back turned to me, phone to his ear, hand on his hip.

“Sue him! Yes, I’m sure! He beat the fuck out of my kid! Again!

I mouth “sorry.” Craig gives me the finger.

“I’m not interested in a company that deals with Edwin Huang anyway,” his dad continues. “They’re as shady as King Financial. Coverups and scandals. The Evergreen deal? I know you’re invested but that is messy, Fred. I’m not signing up for that.”

Ding!

The elevator arrives in front of me and I walk in but my mind is still in the room. Cover-ups and scandals? And of course, the Huang name connects to it. Either Lea’s lying about what she knows or she didn’t dig deep enough.

When I get downstairs, Damien’s leaning against the beige lobby stone and it’s hard for a smile not to pull at my face.

“You waited,” I say when I’m near him. He takes a swig in response and I grab the bottle from his hold, taking one of my own.

“I was halfway out the door, about to call the board when I realized,” he pauses, his head falling against the wall. “The only voice I wanna hear right now is yours.” His eyes land on mine. “You’re not to blame for all this, Jo. I am. Sorry for being a cock.”

---