Page 94 of A Little Broken

I hold his cold stare, refusing to cower or let him push me around despite it being his MO with everyone else. “I said I’d do one fight.”

“Seriously?” Dodge groans. Surrendering his ice cold gaze, he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Judge is gonna kill you.”

“He won’t kill me ‘cause you won’t let him,” I point out.

With a low laugh, he shakes his head in defeat, knowing I’m not wrong. “Only ‘cause I’ll kill you myself, dumbass.”

“It’s one fight,” I argue. “And look at it this way, at least I can keep an eye on things and make sure they don’t do anything too stupid. Right?”

He scoffs into his beer bottle before remembering he’s already finished it. “Sure you can.” The bottle clinks against the counter as he shakes his head again, considering my admission and what it might mean in the big picture. “Dumbass.”

28

TATUM

Boss

A client requested your services tonight. Be at 1224 Banks Drive at 8 pm. They’re sending an outfit so you can dress accordingly. The client wants you to blend in and clean up any messes made by the other guests. There should be approximately 200. Remember to spot check. Make sure no one vomits. Pick up dishes missed by the caterer. That kind of thing. Don’t be late.

My blood boils as I reread the message again.

I still haven’t responded. I should. But I can’t convince myself to cave and play Paxton’s game. Not when I already put my foot down and said I couldn’t attend.

“Hey, you good?” Rory asks from her side of the room. She’s been holed up all day, her laptop and books scattered around her, and her hair piled on top of her head. Or at least, it’s how she looked ten minutes ago. I’m too busy staring at the stupid message to acknowledge her.

I glare at the message again.

They’re sending an outfit so you can dress accordingly.

I’m gonna kill him.

“Tate?” Rory prods. “You good?”

“Could be better,” I grumble.

“What’s wrong?”

“I have to work tonight.” The screen goes black, and I tap the edge of my cell against my chin, considering my options. “Or maybe I don’t. Depends on if I feel like getting fired or not.”

Plopping down next to me on the couch, Rory says, “Uh, you most definitely do not want to get fired.”

“You sure?”

“Yup. Especially because you promised me you’d give this job a real shot, remember?”

Boy, do I. It’s the only reason I haven’t told my boss to take the “client’s” offer and shove it up his ass.

“That was before Pax decided to piss me off,” I mutter.

“What does this have to do with Pax?”

I drop my phone in my lap and fold my arms. “He may or may not be one of my clients.”

Her jaw drops. “Are you serious?”

“Maybe.”

“Okay, catch me up. What’s going on?”

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