Page 83 of Say I Do

Irritation crawled up my throat and nearly choked me. Of course, other people had seen Harlow naked, but as I envisioned this image splashed across cheap tabloids and passed around online, my hand shook. Fake husband or not, did that reporter know how stupid this was? How completely fucking idiotic he was to cross the line with a man like me?

No, he doesn’t know because I’ve put on a perfect persona for so long. He’s going to find out, though.

I shoved the camera onto the seat beside me. My thoughts were a jumbled, fucked up mess. He’d seen Harlow naked.

He’d seen Harlow naked with that look on his face that wasmine.

As soon as we pulled into the backlot of Blu, I climbed out of the car. Tony joined me. He glanced over as Harlow started to climb out of the car.

“You good? I don’t think I’ve seen you look this pissed off in a really long time.”

I cracked my knuckles. “Bring the camera in too.”

Tony stared at me. I met his gaze, and we had a silent conversation before he nodded and opened the trunk. The man tried to jump out at us, but Tony was faster. He punched him in the face, and the reporter crumbled back into the trunk.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Let— Let me go!”

“All yours, boss,” Tony said. “I’ll grab the camera.”

“I’ve got it already,” Harlow said as he joined us. He held out my pack of cigarettes. “You dropped these in the car. Want one?”

“Not yet.”

He nodded. “Fair enough.” Harlow mumbled under his breath in Japanese as he peered at the man. Finally, he straightened up. “Need help, or you got him?”

I looked at the man who shrunk away from us. He was at least thirty, with muddy brown eyes and a paunchy frame that spoke to his time sitting behind a computer. Normal enough in his career.He should have stuck with that instead of getting in my business.

“Let’s go,” I said. “I’m not in the mood to carry you, and you don’t want to fuck up right now.”

He held his now bleeding nose as he stared up at me. “You don’t scare me,” he said as his voice wavered. “I know what you are.”

“Then you know what I do,” I mused. “Seriously, step out of the trunk.”

“Why? So you can kill me in another location?” He shifted back. “Might as well do it here so I can bleed all over your trunk, and you can go down for murder.” He wiped a hand over his face and smeared the blood around the trunk. “I’m not walking to my death.”

Harlow stepped forward, but I held out a hand. “Let me,” I said politely. “It’s been a while.”

For all of my control, most days, I was a glorified paper pusher. I rarely went out and indulged in the more animalistic side of my business. Normally, I left that up to Enzo and Gin. There was something intoxicating, however, about doing it myself.

I reached out and grabbed the man by the shirt. He fell out of the trunk, his shoulder crashed against the pavement, and he shouted. Harlow moved quickly. He ripped the man’s shoe off, snatched his sock, and stuffed it into his mouth.

“Shut up already,” Harlow snapped. He turned and undid my tie. “Let me borrow this.”

“Go ahead.”

The little grin that tugged at his lips did things to me. My cock twitched in response. He wrapped my tie around the man’s head, effectively muffling his bullshit and securing the sock in his mouth. When Harlow was done, he stepped back and waved a hand.

“All yours.”

“Thanks.” I yanked the man to his feet. “Tony, take care of the car.”

“You got it.”

Harlow dug into the trunk and waved a wallet. “His name is Daniel Polinksi. Is this your current address, Danny?”

The man freaked out in my grasp. I punched him in the back of the head until he knocked it off. “He asked you a question.”

Nodding, the reporter glanced over his shoulder. The fear in his eyes as he watched Harlow was almost funny.

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