Page 119 of Don't Bang a Bandmate

I stop, Christian’s familiar voice echoing from inside. I peek around the edge of the stall, spotting him standing with his back to me at the urinal, his phone carefully pinched between his ear and shoulder as he does his business.

Really not wanting to bump into him, I spin back around to leave.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Monroe,” he says. “I’ve got the girl wrapped around my little finger.”

I stop.

Oh, I fuckingfreeze.

Christian laughs. “Trust me. By this time next week, Criminal Records will be in shambles. And little miss Jordan will be all yours. Trust me!”

I see red.

Christian Myers... has been working with Paul Monroe this whole time?

I walk toward him, my step barely audible over his sleazy laugh.

“I’ll keep you updated. Not tonight, though. I’ve got, uh... abusynight ahead, you know what I mean? No interruptions, all right, big guy?”

Christian finishes, zipping up his pants as the urinal flushes. He releases the phone, letting it fall into his hands before turning around.

“Ah!”He startles at seeing me standing directly behind him, my hands rolled into tight fists by my sides. “Oh, hey, Bronson,” he says, releasing a laugh. “You, uh... You having a good night, buddy?”

I don’t reply.

He considers my rage-filled glare, and his stance stiffens defensively. “So...” His throat clears. His lips twitch. “How long have you been standing there?”

Some guys use their words.

Others punch the kid in the nose.

He’s tougher than I expect. His head barely turns at all as my fist collides with it. Giving me a shove, Christian tries to dodge out of the way, but the space between the urinals and the stall doors is too narrow for him to slip past me.

I grab him by the jacket collar, yanking him back toward me before flinging him against the wall. He stumbles but doesn’t fall, using the momentum to bounce up and bolt for the door.

The line of ladies waiting in the hallway scream as we burst through. They dodge out of the way, blocking their faces as we crash into the wall. I lash out, my vision still red with rage. Each punch connects, but they’re not nearly as satisfying as I want them to be. Christian tries hitting back, but he’s sloppy and easy to dodge. Unable to hit me, he learns fast, opting to slip free instead.

I shove him into the bar. He collides with a small table, toppling it over and sending another wave of screams through the room, the sound rising over the thumping bass of the music.

Tunnel vision leads me straight to him, and I’m ready to pummel him all over again for what he’s done to us.

For what he’s done to Jordan.

My Jordan.

“Hey!” Christian growls as I grab him by the lapel. “Get off me, man!”

I punch.

I keep punching.

“Bronson!”Knox tugs on my arm. “Dude! Let him go!”

Jonah’s here now, too, attempting to push himself between me and Christian. “Bronson,stop!”

“Tommy!” Evey shouts behind the bar. “Get Vin!”

Knox pulls at my elbow, stopping my next blow. “What are you doing, man?”

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