“You fucking better. And you best not be playing me. I don’t like when people lie to me, got it?” He dragged her closer until she was nearly gagging on the smell of his breath.
“I u-understand.”
“And don’t try to run or bring anyone else into this or things will go much worse for you.”
His threat made, he disappeared into the shadows, dropping her flashlight on the ground.
Abby sat there for a moment, trying to bring her emotions back under control. The urge to vomit warred with her desire to just sit there and cry.
Reynolds don’t cry, Abigail.
You can’t let them see you hurting.
Abby tried to be brave. To be stoic. To never show her fear. But damn, it was hard. Most of the time, she just wanted to build a fort and hide from life.
But right now, she had to get off the ground, gather up her stuff and go pay her weekly installment for Max’s debt.
Wasn’t it enough to have one bad guy in her life? Seemed not. Seemed she was just an over-achiever.
KENT JENSON SLAMMED his gloved hand into the boxing bag, trying to exhaust himself enough that he might be able to sleep tonight. The door to the gym slid open. He landed a few more upper cuts before someone grabbed the bag, holding it still for him. He glanced over and saw Zeke.
“Thanks,” he muttered.
“No problem, chief,” Zeke said easily.
Kent punched in silence, until sweat dripped down his face and stung his eyes and his lungs burned. When he was breathing hard, his muscles shaking with fatigue, he stepped back and started undoing his gloves.
“What you doing here this time of night?” he asked.
“I was working in the security hub, saw you were in here, thought I’d come get a workout.”
Right. And Kent also believed there was a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
“Some of the boys are going to a club in the city this weekend,” Zeke offered casually. “Maybe you should go with them.”
Kent wiped his face with a towel then walked over to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. Once, he would have jumped at the chance to visit a BDSM club. But now, the thought of it just made him feel tired. Empty.
“I’ll pass,” he said.
Zeke raised an eyebrow. “Might help you sleep better.”
“What makes you think I’m not sleeping?”
“Chief, it’s obvious to anyone that looks at you. You look like shit. You’re as mean as a rattle snake, you’ve been stomping around here snarling at anyone who moves for the last few weeks. You need a session at the club.”
“Tell you what I don’t need and that’s someone sticking their nose into my business.”
“If this was anyone else who wasn’t sleeping, you’d be the first to get all up in their business.”
“I’m the boss.”
“That means we don’t get to worry about you?” Zeke replied.
“Jesus,” he muttered and took a long drink of water.
“Hey, I don’t want to have this talk, but I drew the short straw.”
They were choosing straws to see who had to come speak to him? Had he been that much of an asshole? He thought over the past few weeks and realized he probably had been.