Page 39 of The Golden Boys

“Don’t fuck with me, Blue.”

His quick response comes as a shock. “Just Blue?” I ask. “Not Southside?”

I’ve never gotten so deep under his skin before, and I have to say, I like it here.

“Tell you what,” I lean in to say. “If you want a different drink so bad, walk your arrogant ass behind the counter and make it yourself.”

“Daaaamn!” Is Sterling’s helpful interjection. Meanwhile, Dane chokes out a laugh when his drink goes down the wrong way.

I’m probably lucky no one heard but his brothers. I don’t gather West is the type to tolerate being put on the spot.

Hellfire fills his eyes and it gets to me. I mean, really gets to me. I feel bold and untouchable, which, historically speaking, can be quite the deadly combination.

“Get your ass to the bathroom,” he growls.

I stand tall, holding his gaze. “No.”

“What’d I just tell you about provoking me?”

We stare one another down and, feeling defiant, I lock both arms across my chest. “And if I don’t?”

The rims of his nostrils flare with anger. “If you don’t, it’s possible this place could burn down overnight, and no one would even bat an eye. That kind of thing happens all the time.”

His gaze flickers toward mine and there’s darkness within it.

“It’d be such a shame,” he teases. “Your uncle being such a nice guy and all.”

The threat lingers between us before he storms toward the back of the diner. I hesitate a moment, volleying a look between his brothers.

Dane glances up when I don’t move right away.

“Might want to do what you’re told,” he says, warning me with his eyes. “West isn’t known to bluff.”

An image flashes in my head. One of my uncle’s diner going up in a roaring blaze. Not to mention, his small one-bedroom where he lives above. A disaster like that would ruin him if it didn’t kill him, which is precisely the reason I wanted to keep West at arm’s length. The less he knows, the less he can hurt me, the less he can hurt the people I love.

I feel Dane and Sterling’s gazes on my back as I stomp toward the bathroom to join their evil triplet.

I burst through the door of the men’s room to find West pacing, steam practically rolling off him now. My heart races double-time, and only quickens when he snatches me all the way inside, and then turns the main lock.

He has me trapped. In so many ways.

Just above the door, a speaker cranks out an oldie I’ve always loved—‘Time of the Season’by the Zombies. It echoes loudly in the small space and I have a feeling I’ll never hear it the same again after tonight.

“What do you want?” I ask as boldly as I can.

A cold, jarring look snaps toward me. “You still don’t get it do you?”

The question sets my nerves on edge.

“Of course, I don’t get it!” I yell. “That’s what I’ve been saying this whole time! Every chance you get, you’re in my face, giving me shit, but you still don’t have the balls to say what I’ve done to deserve it.”

There goes that stupid tremble in my voice again. The one I’m sure West has mistaken for weakness, instead of what itreallyis.

Rage.

Frustration.

“All you need to know is I own you. So, when I say jump, your only response is how fucking high,” he roars, coming toward me with quick steps.

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