Page 49 of Once Upon A Sale

“Ignore him, Ophelia, he’s a gruff one.” Staring at Rick for longer than I’d like, I win the mini staring contest when he just scoffs and starts looking out the car window.

This now raises other questions. Back at the gala, Jarrett’s reaction was feral, more than just jealous, it was bordering on animalistic. Why?

“So, you and Jarrett? Do you know each other?”

Beside me, Dexter goes still and Rick mumbles something I can’t hear. Something is definitely not right and I have a feeling I’m missing an important part of the puzzle.

“Let’s put it this way, we’re old time friends. Rivals, I suppose you could say.” From what I know about Jarrett—which is surprisingly little—he doesn’t have friends. He has members of The Firm, surely, but friends? No.

Just as I’m about to knock on the partition between Josh and us, the car comes to a screeching halt and another car stops right beside us.

What the hell?

My first thought is that Jarrett is causing a scene again, but when the back door opens and Rick slides out so quickly you’d think his ass is on fire, my brain sends warning lights to the rest of my body. I reach for the gun I keep hidden between the seats but searing pain at the back of my head incapacitates me long enough to get dragged out of the car. When I look up, it’s Dexter, his hand clutching my hair so tightly I’m certain he’s ripping it out from my scalp.

“Come on, Princess, it’s time to pay your dues.” Even his voice has changed. The refined tone from earlier is now infected with pure hatred. And that nickname? Just no. Fuck no. I hated it when Jarrett used it…once, so coming from this backstabbing piece of shit. That’s a double no.

As I try to fight him off, I realize my dress is not made for fighting and my heels, as deadly as they could be, are not made for either running or stopping someone who’s hell bent on dragging you away.

But my hands are free and I don’t fucking hesitate.

“Well, this escalated quickly.” No, now’s not the time for jokes, but seriously? What the fuck?

Letting my legs fall like gravity has let me down, I use that second of confusion I created to punch Dexter in the balls. There is no crunch as my fist connects with his sack but I imagine there is, giving me great satisfaction. What I do hear is Dexter’s whimper and grunt. Good, it means I’ve hurt him.

Like, what the fuck? Was this an elaborate plan to kidnap me? I mean, that’s a lot of fucking effort when they could have easily snatched me any time before this. Any number of things could have gone wrong for them tonight, least of all: Jarrett showing up.

Unless him being there wasn’t a surprise.

Did he plan this? Well, if he needs someone else to do his dirty work for him then he’s not half the man I thought he was.

“You’re in danger.”

Yeah, I suppose I am. But what I’m not is helpless.

Reaching down, I take a shoe off and jam the heel anywhere I can on Dexter’s body until I hear more steps around me, shuffling feet and screeching tires. I’m doing my best to stab Dexter but this motherfucker won’t go down easily. Blocking my every move as I twist and turn and keep my body languid so it’s difficult for him to grab me, I look for ways to incapacitate him and run.

But Dexter slams my face into the car as I hear Ricky curse behind me.

Searing pain flashes across my face and pure rage takes over my body. Using every ounce of strength I still possess, I swing my arm around, ready to punch or scratch or anything to get this man off of me, when all I feel is a whoosh of air and he’s gone.

Confused, I scramble away and give my eyes time to assess the situation.

There are three men lying around this deserted street in various states of death. One’s got a bullet hole in the head, the other has a slash across his throat. Dexter? He’s got a knife in the belly and just as I realize what is happening, that knife is dragged up until blood rushes right out of him.

Holy fuck.

I never thought I’d say this, but here we are.

“Jarrett!” I screech his name out, even though he’s right there next to me. In this moment, it’s not anger or confusion, it’s straight up relief and he knows it. That motherfucker flashes me a grin like it’s no big deal that he just ripped open some guy’s abdomen as he wipes the knife on the pants of his tux. Why the fuck is that move even sexy? How is that a thing?

“Told you I’d make you scream my name tonight.” I would roll my eyes at the way his confidence just oozes from his pores but I can’t deny that, had he not shown up, this could have gone a hundred different ways and none of them in my favor.

“You’re insane.” I’m still in a bit of a daze, wondering what the fuck just happened. How can someone be so duplicitous? Dexter was nothing but perfect tonight, yet here he was doing a one eighty and becoming Miami’s prime douchebag example.

“Oh, Kitten, I don’t think you want to use that tone with me tonight. My palm is itching to spank your arse for defying me.” My head snaps to the side so fast I fear I may hurt myself.

“Oh no, you fucker. Your hands aren’t getting anywhere near me until you tell me what the fuck is going on.”

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