Page 69 of Twisted Hearts

She shook her head but then whispered, “You or her. Your choice.”

“What?” My hand covered my phone to break her focus on it, and I curled in toward her.

She was pale as a ghost, eyes glazed with fear. “That was what he said when he left my dad’s office. I didn’t…I didn’t know before, but it makes sense, right?”

With what I’d told her earlier in the week? Yeah, it made sense. Too much.

I pocketed my phone. “I’ll call Jaxon and let him know. For now, are you okay?”

“I don’t know. I will be, though. I think.” She turned to me and smiled shakily. “Thank you. For being here.”

There was nowhere else I wanted to be, but now wasn’t the time to tell her, either. We’d have time for that when the mood wasn’t filled with the stress of this.

“If you’re good, I need to call Jaxon.”

“Right.” She wiped the softness from her expression. I swore there was a flash of pain before she did, but she hid it quickly, standing and putting her back to me. “I’ll see you later then.”

She pushed off the desk and left the office in a flurry like she was running from me, but for the life of me I couldn’t figure out what I’d done to cause it.

I added that to my list of things to worry about later and grabbed my phone.

Jaxon answered almost immediately. “That him?”

The way he said it, ominous and seething, set me on edge. “Yeah. Why?”

“Then there’s a big fucking problem.”

I already knew that, but this sounded worse. “What is it? Who is he?”

“That asshole is MaryAnne’s nephew, and he might not be second in line to take over the Mancusso family, but he’s close.”

Oh holyfuck.

* * *

I satat the bar through Addi’s shift. During a slow time, I debated whether or not to tell her, but I’d ruined enough of her day already, so I decided to wait until we got back to her place. The bar was packed. Apparently everyone in Raleigh under the age of forty wanted to check out Malcolm’s new club, and at one point there was even a line outside the door.

Insanity.

Addi looked worn out on her feet while she hustled. Her hair, which was usually slicked back in a ponytail or braided and wrapped around one side, had just been half pulled back this morning. Now her hair was frizzing at the edges near her temples, and she was constantly blowing wisps of it out of her face. She was working her ass off, though, and still managed to smile for her customers and the servers who came requesting drinks. The other bartender, Evan, was just as busy, just as friendly, and he and Addi laughed and smiled at each other with a frequency that made a small spark of jealousy light up within me a few times.

It didn’t matter. Logic told me that.

I was gritting my teeth, sipping my eighteenth glass of water for the afternoon, and munching on the fries that remained from my dinner when a woman with curly, long brown hair pulled up a stool next to me.

She immediately twisted toward me and tucked hair behind her ear. “You don’t look like you’re having a great Friday.”

“Long week,” I replied. She was pretty—beautiful, actually—and attractive with her makeup nicely done and a smile that said she was used to getting what she wanted.

The shirt she wore showed off only a hint of her cleavage, her ample breasts hidden behind glittering black fabric that showed she gave a shit about how she looked but didn’t flaunt it to the masses. She licked her lips, caught where my gaze wandered, and I was pretty certain she arched her back, pushing her breasts up.

There wasn’t a single part of me that stirred at her silent invitation and flirtation.

“I could help make it better. Share a drink with me?”

“Can I help you?” Addi asked, appearing out of nowhere on the other side of the bar. Last time I’d checked she was at the other end.

For this woman, she held no smile.

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