“Okay,” I say to Troy. “I won’t leave the room. We can talk here. It’ll just be a few moments.”
Troy looks like he’d rather tie my ass up and duct tape my mouth shut. “As long as I stay in the room, I should be fine, right?” I ask.
He pauses for a moment, as if considering the question, and then nods. “Fine,” he mutters. “But you’re telling Viks this was your idea if he catches us.”
I arch a brow. “Afraid of a little beating?” I taunt.
Troy pulls the door wider and releases me. “If you’d ever sparred with him, you’d know there isn’t a damn thinglittleabout his beatings.”
Josh steps into the room and Troy shuts the door behind him, stepping to the side and retaking his position, arms crossed. Josh glances at him nervously. “Does he have to be in here?”
“You take what you get, Josh.”
Troy eyes him with barely repressed disdain and blatant distrust.
“He’s with Viks, though,” Josh says.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, and so am I. Which brings us to why you’re here.”
“I wanted to tell you I was sorry for what I said the other day.” Josh casts his eyes downward. “I know it upset you.”
“No shit, Sherlock.” I turn away and stomp towards the lounge, slumping down onto it. My hand goes out automatically to pick up the champagne flute, but it’s empty so it’s useless. I slam it back down on the table and cross my arms. “You’ve been pestering me since day fucking one, Josh. Then when you don’t get what you want, you finally drop your fake ‘nice guy’ act and take it out on the guy whodidget what you wanted.” I shake my head and laugh, but it’s anything but amused. “I’m not a toy you get to be mad over.”
“I just wanted you to know how much danger you’re in!” Josh protests. “Viks is—”
“Viks is whatever Viks is,” I say, cutting him off. “And what that is—is none of your fucking business.”
“You’re my business,” he tries.
This time, I do laugh. A full, from the stomach laugh. Seconds later, I’m wiping the tears from beneath my eyes and shaking my head. “We’re not evenfriends,”I finally manage to get out. “So, what the hell makes you think I’m any of your business?” The question is rhetorical and surprise of all fucking surprises, he actually seems to understand that because he doesn’t immediately reply. I stand again and move away from him, heading for the railing. “You say you came here to apologize, but I know that’s bullshit. You just came here to demand answers to questions you don’t even have the right to ask.”
He opens his mouth to protest, but I’ve had enough. “You say you’re such aniceguy, Josh, but you know what your niceness is? A mask. You put on the façade of being kind and accepting of a woman’s rejection when really you pester her for months, hoping that if you just ‘keep at it’ she’ll somehow give in and say yes. That’s not nice. That’s predatory. I’ve known too many nice guys like you. Every fucking woman has.”
Josh flushes and his gaze darts to Troy, who, for his part, remains silent.
Josh hurries towards me, stopping at my side and dropping his voice into a whisper as if he doesn’t want Troy to hear. I bet he doesn’t. “You weren’t giving me a chance,” he whispers. “I just wanted—”
“It doesn’t matter what you wanted.” I don’t bother lowering my voice. I clench my hands into fists, fighting the urge to deck him again. “I have no obligation to give you a chance. A real nice guy would accept that and leave me the fuck alone. But here you are—offering a lame excuse of an apology when the only thing you’re really sorry about is that you weren’t the one I chose.”
His face goes slack with shock. Josh takes a step back and stares at me as if he’s seeing me for the first time. His brows lower over his eyes and his lips pinch together. “I am sorry,” he insists. “I came here to apologize. I’m just … worried about you.”
I snort. “No, you’re worried that all the work you’ve put into me is going to waste because someone stepped in and snatched up what you wanted.” I shake my head. “I don’t need your apology. The only thing I wanted to do was warn you.” I turn and take a step closer to him until I can practically smell whatever his last drink was on his breath. “You talk shit about Viks again, and you won’t need to worry about him coming after you because I will. As far as I’m concerned, you were never a choice, Josh. Viks is the only choice I need and I’ve already made it.”
He shakes his head fervently and latches onto my arm. “Haley, you’re in danger here. You need to listen to me. That Vikson guy—you know the kind of man he works for.” He’s not listening. It’s like all of my words are going in one ear and out the other. How did I ever expect anything different?
“Yeah, because I worked for him too,” I snap. “You do realize that Nicholas Carter owns Club Outsider, right? In fact”—I shake him off, pulling my arm free of his grip—“I don’t understand what your issue is. Is it Nicholas Carter that you have a problem with? He’s on the board of Directors of Eastpoint too.”Why even go to a school when there’s a man he so clearly hates right there on campus?
“You’re not listening to me!” Josh shouts. “It’s Vikson! He’s the dangerous one. I tried telling you he was a killer and you—”
I shove him. Hard. “Shut. Up.” I practically fucking seethe. My limbs are trembling with fury. All of my previous dislike of Mitchell Vikson has fled and in its place, a new emotion has arisen. Trust. “It doesn’t matter what you say about him. I don’t care. I told you I made my choice and here’s the kicker, I chose him because I fucking love him.”
Josh flinches and then shakes his head. “No,” he rejects my words, but he’s not looking at me when he says it. It sounds like he’s talking to himself. “No,” he repeats. “You don’t mean that.”
How to make him understand? “Yes, I do.” I insist.
Josh just continues to shake his head as if he can’t even comprehend the words that are coming out of my mouth. “You’ve been deceived,” he tells me. “Brainwashed. He’s done something to you, Haley. How can you not see that?” He looks at me with eyes so full of hope and sorrow that it makes me take a step back.
“I think you need to leave,” I say, quickly looking to Troy who takes a step forward.