Page 68 of Sassy Bennett Doesn't Do Romance

“That’s what he gets for stealing from me. Give me the money back.”

“I don’t care about your fucking money!” I shove my free hand into my bag and pull the notes from it, throwing them at Darren. He makes no attempt to catch them, and they flutter to his feet. Instead, he moves his hand from my elbow to my wrist and twists my arm behind my back. He spins me, so I’m pushed against his desk and my arm feels like it’s about to break.

“I should teach you a lesson for fucking with me, you filthy little whore.” He breathes into my ear. Prickles of fear travel down my spine.

“Fuck you. Let me go.” My voice sounds stronger than how I’m feeling.

“You really think you can walk into my club and steal my money, Sassy?” He pushes me harder, and I fall across the desk. My other arm keeps me propped up so I’m not completely flat against the surface. I swallow a sob. I have to get to Colt.

“It wasn’t stealing,” I hiss. “I was taking the last pay you owe me.”

“I don’t owe you shit!” He yells and grabs my hair. He pulls my head back sharply and I cry out, but his movements made his grip on my wrist loosen ever so slightly. I swing my leg backwards, connecting with his shin, and when he yells out in pain, I twist my body free from his hold. I’m face-to-face with him.

“Please, Darren, I need to get to Colt. Benny might actually kill him.” I’m pleading, thinking for sure I can appeal to Darren’s common sense. A dead customer can’t be good for business. But anger twists his face, and I can tell he isn’t thinking clearly. The fire in his eyes alarms me.

I glance around for anything I can use as a weapon when suddenly, the office door swings open. Barbie is standing there. She must have just finished her set. She takes in the scene; her features pinched with worry.

“Is everything okay in here?” She asks, and I use the distraction to run. Pushing past Darren, I reach the door. As I squeeze past Barbie she whispers to me.

“He knew you were coming.”

What the hell? I don’t have time to ask her what she means as I race for the back exit. I burst into the alley, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. There’s no Benny or Jeff.

“Oh no,” I whisper, as I take in a crumpled heap on the ground. It’s Colt, and he isn’t moving.

I’m too late.

Chapter30

Sassy

The next few hours pass by in a frantic blur. After discovering Colt was unconscious but still breathing, I went onto auto-pilot. I called Chase, who arrived in minutes, and he helped me get Colt into the car and to the hospital.

As soon as they rushed Colt through to emergency, I told the nurses what happened to him. Chase had suggested that I don’t tell them, but I want everyone to know exactly who’s responsible for this. I hope Colt presses charges.

Later, the police arrived to take my statement. I told them what I knew; that the bouncers took Colt out into the back alley and beat him unconscious. But they didn’t react the way I thought they might. They just kept questioning what I actually saw with my own eyes. By the time they finished taking my statement, I was nearly tearing my hair out in frustration.

Hours later, the doctors updated us that Colt will be fine, but he’s sleeping. I convinced Chase to go home while I curled up on a plastic chair in the waiting room. In the morning, visiting hours will start. Instead of sleeping, I keep going over the events of the night in my head.

How did I let this happen? What a stupid idea. Why did I involve Colt? I put him in direct danger and now he’s lying in a hospital bed and it’s all my fault. My stomach churns. I feel physically sick from what I’ve done. Why didn’t I keep my distance from Colt like he asked me to? I press the heel of my palm into my eyes, wishing I could rewind time and start over.

After an agonising few hours of mentally beating myself up on the hard plastic chair, a nurse takes pity on me. She crouches in front of me.

“You’re here with Colt Salter, aren’t you?” Her voice is gentle. I nod. “Listen, it’s still a while until visiting hours. But he’s in a single room, so I don’t see a problem with you going in. It beats sitting out here.”

“Really?” Relief floods through me. I need to lay eyes on him to believe that he’s okay.

“Yeah, really. I just did his obs, and he’s awake, anyway. I’m sure a friendly face would help.”

I could kiss this nurse for her empathy and understanding. Uncurling myself from the chair, I walk stiffly behind her until we reach his room. The nurse stops outside his door, gives my arm a reassuring squeeze, then goes back to her station.

I pause, taking a deep breath, before I enter his room. As soon as my eyes land on him, the sobs that I’ve been holding back bubble up inside of me. I make a strange choking noise as I try to keep my tears under control. I don’t want to cry all over him when he’s the one in a hospital bed.

Colt is partially sitting up in bed with his eyes closed. One arm is in a sling, there’s a bandage over his left eye, and angry black and purple bruises covering his other eye and cheekbones. His lips are swollen and there’s a graze on his chin. He looks awful.

As though aware of my presence, Colt opens his one good eye and turns to me.

“Sassy,” he croaks. “Are you okay?”

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