Page 77 of Can You Take It?

There she is, sitting across the room, seemingly unaware of us. Relief floods through me, swiftly overtaken by a rush of anger because she’s not alone. My eyes narrow as I see her laughing and talking with some guy. A fucking guy.

Colton and Noah are deep in conversation about Luna, but my focus is entirely on Izel. I can’t make out their words, but it doesn’t matter. Seeing her with someone else sets a fire burning inside me.

“What the fuck is she doing?” I mutter under my breath.

Noah looks at me. “Rick, you okay?”

I force a nod, tearing my eyes away from Izel. “Yeah, just tired. Keep talking. I’m listening.”

The barista brings our coffees over, setting them down with a small nod. “Anything else I can get for you?”

“No, this is good. Thanks,” I hear Colton say.

I take a sip of the bitter coffee, the taste matching the bitterness in my gut. Colton and Noah continue talking, but my focus is divided between their words and the scene across the room. Izel is laughing with the douchebag sitting across from her.

Colton notices my distraction. “Everything okay, Rick?”

I force a smile. “Yeah, just processing everything.”

Noah follows my gaze and raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t that Izel?”

Colton leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “You seem awfully interested in what she’s doing over there. Something you want to share with the class?”

“No,” I snap, almost bitterly.

Noah smirks, clearly not buying it. “You didn’t want her out of your house, did you? You practically went ballistic when she left with her grandfather.”

“Yeah, what was that all about? You don’t usually give a shit where people go. Even less if it’s a former suspect.”

Noah leans forward. “You’ve got feelings for her, don’t you? Come on, admit it.”

I remain silent because the last thing I need is these assholes prying into my personal life.

Colton lets out a low whistle. “Wow, Rick. This is a first. Mr. Ice Cold has a soft spot.”

“Shut the fuck up, Colton,” I growl, but it lacks the usual bite.

Noah isn’t deterred. “So, what is it? You in love with her or something?”

I glare at him, my temper fraying at the edges. “Drop it.”

My eyes drift back to Izel, who’s still laughing with that douchebag. She hasn’t glanced my way once. Not a fucking glance. I glance down at my coffee. I need something stronger, something like bourbon. I can’t believe I’m thinking about bourbon on duty but fuck it. I need a distraction.

“So, you’re not fucking her, are you?”

I’m suddenly taken back to the last happy moments with her in my car. We were going to have the night of our lives, and I ruined it.

“Rick,” Noah presses, “are you?”

“No, I’m not fucking her,” I say through gritted teeth. But the words feel like a lie.

“So, you wouldn’t mind if I fucked her, would you?”

Without thinking, I grab the knife from the table and slam it through Noah’s palm, pinning his hand to the wooden surface. The sound of the blade cutting through flesh and bone is sickeningly satisfying. Noah’s silent scream pierces the air.

“What the fuck, Richard?” Colton shouts, jumping up from his chair.

I lean in close to Noah. “You ever say something like that again, and I’ll fucking end your existence. Do you understand?”

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