My chest tightens, my nostrils flare, and every fucking instinct inside me is screaming at me to run to her.
But I can’t.
I’ve got to keep the façade going.
Livvy’s face is bruised and swollen, one eye is completely shut, the other glazed with pain. Her breathing comes in short, wet gasps that tell me she must have broken some ribs. Her scrubs are torn and bloody, showing deep cuts to the skin beneath, and her legs…
Jesus Christ, her legs are a mess of cuts and harsh burns. I can’t even tell by what.
All I know is Livvy is in serious trouble right now.
This isn’t just torture—someone’s sending a clear message.
But I have no idea who.
But I’m also not about to drop my guard and play innocent.
Forcing myself to take another bite of chicken, I clamp my teeth against the fury clawing its way up my throat, hot and volatile, ready to detonate.
I refuse to crack.
Not now.
So, I swallow the bite—along with my rage—and keep up my bravado. “I see the service here is shit too,” I quip, keeping my voice steady. “Your hostess looks like she could use a break.”
Livvy’s good eye finds mine, a flash of relief washing over her before she manages to whisper, “Y-you s-shouldn’t have c-come.”
“Shut your damn mouth,” one of the guards snaps, backhanding Livvy across the face.
She whimpers with the impact of the strike, her head instantly snapping to the side. The chicken bucket crumples beneath the strength of my grip. But I keep my anger tapped to see how this plays out.
I have to.
Suddenly, the lights flood the area, nearly blinding me. My eyes squint, adjusting to the bright white shining down over the vast space like a beacon, sending the second-story level into darkness above us.
The thumping of slow, heavy footsteps from the walkway above gives this whole thing an ominous undertone while whoever this is remains in the dark above us.
Hidden.
Like a predator.
The lights glare down, blinding me from being able to see him, but those same heavy footsteps begin to descend a metal staircase, each step echoing dramatically through the space.
The anticipation of who this asshole is eats at me.
My training tells me to rush forward.
To attack.
To protect Livvy in this moment, but I need intel.
Who the fuck is he?
Why does he want to hurt the club?
Using every ounce of strength I have, I restrain myself, simply watching as his legs come into full view, and I flair my nostrils, anxious for him to show himself. But he stalls on the step, clearing his throat. “I apologize for the theatrics,” he announces from above.Oh great, here comes the ‘dramatic reveal.’“But some moments deserve an entrance with flair.”
I snort, dropping my mangled chicken bucket on a nearby table with an annoyed thud. “Let me guess, you’re the manager here? I’d like to speak to you about your establishment’s health code violations. And maybe about how you treat your staff. I totally understand if Livvy fucked up, but brutality in the workforce is kind of a no-no.” My eyes flick to her, silently promising Livvy I’m getting her the fuck out of here.