Page 107 of Remy

The clang of the door closing echoes through the parking lot. The sound fades to leave nothing but the hum of the Bentley engine and the continued pounding of my pulse.

Remy stands there, looking down at the bouncer, his barrel still pressed to the guy’s head. “Do you want the honors, Pyro?”

My breath clogs in my throat. “What I want is for you to put the gun down.”

“Listen to her,” my attacker begs. “Please, man. She?—”

“He was about to rape you,” Remy sneers. “Do you really want me to let him go so he can succeed with someone else?”

I don’t know.

I can’t think.

“I don’t—” I push from the chain-link to stand on shaky feet. “I can’t. I?—”

I fumble with trembling hands to fix my pants, shame heating my cheeks at the sight of my lowered zipper and purple lace panties.

We don’t cry.

We have to be strong.

Always.

I sniff back the threat of tears and clasp my belt.

“I can end him right now,” Remy growls. “Just say the word.”

“No,” the bouncer pleads, blood oozing from a cut on his bottom lip. “It was a messed up mistake. I swear I’ll never do it again. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Remy’s gun remains aimed to kill, but those eyes keep focus with mine. “Talk to me, Pyro. Tell me what you want done with him.”

The bouncer scuffles backward on his hands and feet. “Please, boss. I swear, I barely touched her.”

I don’t notice my complete and utter exhaustion until I realize I’m too tired to even scoff. There’s been one thing after another for an entire week. Death. Destruction. Lies. Complications. They have to stop.

“All I wanted was to talk to you.” Fragility bleeds into my words. “That’s all I came here for. And then I wind up down here, thinking he was taking me to see you and…”

Remy’s jaw ticks. “Get in the car, Ollie.”

“I can’t. I came here with friends.”

“So text them. Say you’re not feeling well and had to bail. I’m taking you home.”

Could I? Should I?

The thought of returning to the noisy club makes my head throb harder. And the prospect of facing Ivy and Allison after what I endured seems worse.

I’ll break down. I’ll finally let loose of family tradition and wither into a heap of pathetic sobs.

“Go on.” He jerks his head toward the Bentley. “I’ll join you in a minute.”

“What will you do to him?”

He shrugs. “We’re just going to chat.”

With the barrel of his gun still firmly squared on the man’s head, I’m not convinced.

“Remy,” I whisper. “I don’t—” God, I don’t even know the guy’s name. Don’t know the first thing about him yet I followed him from a crowded place into a deserted parking lot, all because I wanted to negotiate with a murderer.

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