Page 42 of Torched Spades
If all Americans were gingers with resting bitch faces.
He quirks an eyebrow. “You all right there?”
“Yeah,” I say, quickly falling back into character. “I’m—”
“Here to see Malone,” Alice chimes in, the unprompted information earning her a searing look. I guess the “chicks before dicks” rule doesn’t apply within warehouse walls.
“Who isn’t?” the man echoes, flashing me a dimpled smile.
What the hell?How many women are we talking about here? Is he on Tinder having them swipe right for cock on the dock?
Alice chuckles. “I was just about to take Miss Becca here down to the shipping containers to look for him. I always like a good show before dinner.”
The man’s smile vanishes. “I’ll take her.”
“You sure, Henry? I thought you were heading home?”
“Absolutely.” Striding into the room, he gives me an unsettling wink before linking our arms and nodding toward the open door. “He’s already back in the warehouse, anyway. Besides, any friend of Johnny’s is a friend of mine.”
I keep my mouth shut, allowing him to steer me through the doorway. When we’re out of earshot, I plant my heels, glaring up at him as intimidatingly as my five-foot-four frame will allow. “You know I’m not really Johnny’s friend, right?”
Henry stares down at me with sharp precision. “I know all about you, Becca. Pretending to be from the probation office, then throwing out bogus compliance violation threats”—he clicks his tongue—“not the smartest move.”
My stomach free falls to my feet, and I add following Meredith’s advice to my ever-growing list of bad decisions.
“Come on,” he says, nudging me down a small flight of stairs and into the dimly lit warehouse. “Johnny isn’t far.”
The warehouse is the exact opposite of the cargo docks.It’s a maze of twelve-foot stacked crates and intimidating machinery atop blue cement flooring. It’s also dark, the only light guiding our path coming from the flickering halogen lights swinging from the metal bars running across the ceiling.
But what I notice most is that other than the office we just exited, there seems to be only one way in and one way out. Which is unfortunate because the moment my gaze collides with a familiar pair of onyx eyes, I could use a trap door.
Johnny’s hunched down next to a jacked forklift, his flexed bicep straining against his blue work shirt as he picks up a wrench.
“Malone, a woman is here to—”
“Becca?” That midnight hair hangs defiantly over his darkening gaze as his chin snaps over his shoulder. “What the hell are you doing here?” Tossing the wrench onto the floor, he charges toward me, sending grown men scattering like bowling pins.
“Well,thatescalated quickly,” Henry murmurs.
No shit.
Johnny comes to a dead stop in front of us, his nostrils flaring as he glares at the hold Henry has on my arm. “Hands off.”
“Easy, Johnny,” Henry says, calmly. “I was just—”
“I said, hands off!” he roars, the heel of his palm connecting with Henry’s chest, sending him hurling into the wall.
All motion stops as every eye turns toward us. No one moves. No one says a word. Either they’re all in shock or used to settling their shit “Man vs. Wild” style.
Luckily, I know a thing or two about diffusing irrational behavior. Aggressive narcissists like Johnny feed on emotion. It’s what drives them. However, just as I’m about to douse the flame by cutting the fuel, he pulls a complete one-eighty, and the molten rage on his face flatlines.
Shuffling a few steps back, he leans against the wall and starts flipping that damn card between his fingers again. “So, what the hell do you want?”
I glance over my shoulder to make sure Henry is still conscious, but he just glares at me.Great.I want to shake the shit out of Johnny for putting me in the middle of whatever this is, but with every eye and ear on us, I turn back around and settle for murmuring, “You missed your appointment.”
He shrugs. “Do you stalk all your patients when they miss appointments, or am I just your favorite?”
Scattered laughter rumbles along the perimeter of the warehouse, rubbing salt in my wounds. I’m desperately trying to stay in control, but Johnny’s cool indifference is splintering my confidence.
