Page 93 of Break

And I know Landon well enough to understand that the tension in the tendons of his neck and the fake fucking smile on his face means he’s going to try to beat me to the first punch.

“Good afternoon,” Landon says with all the charm his murderous ass can muster. “Can you tell me who might have delivered something to our room just now?”

The woman looks terrified and face drains of color.

Great. Landon’s scaring her. And I’ll likely do worse because I have no charm when it comesto this shit.

“Umm, that was me,” she answers in a tiny voice. “I’m so sorry if I disturbed you.” Tears fill her eyes, and she panics. “Please don’t get me fired. It’s my first week here and I—”

“Hey, whoa, no, no, no.” Landon pulls out his best smile and calms her down. “I just was curious about the person who gave it to you.”

“He-he-he was young. Maybe thirteen, I guess? He said you were his dad and that he was sending tickets up to you for a show later this evening. I… I didn’t think to ask questions. Our guest’s privacy is important.”

“It’s fine. Totally fine. Thank you so much.” Landon waves off whatever else she was going to prattle, and we beeline for the front door.

“He hired a kid to do his dirty work,” I seethe. The car is just ahead of us, so I clutch my key and pull out my… “Fucking Hell. I left my cell in the room.”

“Already got it pulled up.” Landon waves his cell at me, with the map to the Cinnamon Café ready.

It says it’s fifteen minutes away.

We make it there in six.

Marching into the coffee shop, I see my target sitting in the corner, facing us. It’s not hard to pick out the problem. He’s staring at us with a smug fucking smile I’m about to punch off his goddamn face.

Without introductions, I storm over andhaul the motherfucker up, hoping I pop his shoulder out of the socket, and frog-march his ass right outside.

“We’re Bounty Hunters,” Landon explains to the baristas, who I assume are gawking at us. “Have a nice day!”

I drag this piece of shit into the alley and slam him against the brick wall.

Then I punch him in the nose.

“Kerrington, where are your manners, bro?” Landon knocks me out of the way and slugs the fucker in the gut, making him double over, then upper cuts him in the jaw. “You gotta do a combo deal or the message doesn’t really click. Try again.”

He side-steps out of my way and the guy charges me, driving me backwards until I hit a dumpster.

“Boys, boys, we can’t make a lot of noise, mkay? That’s how cops are called. And we don’t want the cops called, do we,Tim?” Landon wraps his arm around Tim’s throat and jerks him off me. “Let’s play nice for a minute before we go back to having fun.”

“Fuck you,” Tim snarls. Blood pours from his broken nose and his beanie halfway hangs off his head, about to fall off.

Landon tugs it down, fixing it for him, and slaps him on the back. “How’s it going, Timothy Barron Wade of 16 Crispin Lane? Is your sister Jenny doing okay? I’m sure teaching third grademust be brutal.”

His face pales.

“Aww, look at him, Kerr. He thought he was the only one who knew how to use the internet and a camera.” Landon pulls his cell out and starts flipping through photos he snagged from Tim’s social media accounts. They were set to private, but Landon has ways around that.

“So, what is it you wanted to see us about?” Landon fishes. “You need another photo op or something?”

“I’ll blast it.” Tim wipes his nose, smiling with a bloody mouth. “I’ll blast those pictures everywhere and ruin you.”

“Is this guy precious or what?” Landon puts his arm around him like they’re old pals.

“Why would we care?” I ask cautiously.

Tim scoffs. “The Greystone Heiress getting railed by her ex-fiancé’s two business partners would make headlines in all the celebrity news. I’d be famous for that credit.”

“So, post it,” Landon shrugs.

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