His question makes me pause. I don’t know where Derek has gone. At what point did he walk away? He didn’t go with the Kings, did he? Wherever they went.
“Ethan.” She places her hand on his chest, trying to get his attention. “You need to come home.”
“No,” he snaps, taking a step back from her. “We don’t live together anymore.”
“But you could,” she offers, stepping into him again. “Come live with Grave and me. Go to meetings …”
“Fuck no!” He shoves her back from him, causing her to dump the entire whiskey sour she was holding all over her dress.
She gasps.
“What the fuck!” Jasmine shoves at his chest, making him fall back into another guy. “Get away from her!” she shouts.
April looks down at her white sweater dress and sighs.
“Let’s go the bathroom,” I offer. “Get you cleaned up. We’ll all go,” I say, grabbing her hand. I know Cross said to stay here, but I also remember what he and Grave said to Jasmine and me that first night here about it not being safe. I’m not sending her to the bathroom alone.
The four of us make our way through the crowd and down the hall. I push open the door and almost hit someone in the face. “I’m …” I trail off as I look at the woman. It’s Rachel. She stands there with her hands on her hips and a constipated look on her face.
“Oh, it’s you.” Emilee crosses her arms over her chest, popping a hip out. “You should have just hit her.”
Rachel smiles at me, ignoring Emilee. “It must suck to be as insecure as you are.”
“Excuse me?” I step into the restroom, getting closer to her. “I’m not …”
“Having Cross fire me because you were afraid he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off me.” She runs her pierced tongue across her teeth. “How does it feel to know I’ve fucked both your boyfriend and fiancé?” she asks. Walking by me, she adds, “He’ll come back to me. They always do. You can’t satisfy either one of them.”
Come back? So, she’s still fucking Mitch. That’s exactly what she means, which I couldn’t care less about. But Cross? I’d set this bitch on fire using his Zippo if she were to so much as touch his arm.
“Don’t get so attached to this one,” she adds, trying to push past me, but I grab the back of her hair and yank her farther into the bathroom. The girls enter, letting the door close shut.
“Get off me,” she screams, and I shove her face into the wall by the door.
She turns around and charges me, shoving my back into a bathroom stall. The door flies open, and we fall to the floor. Normally, just the thought of being on a public bathroom floor would make me vomit, but right now, that’s the last thing on my mind.
I pull my fist back and punch her in the face so hard it rips her nose ring out. She is screaming at me while I sit on top of her.
Her hands are flying, and one hits me on the cheek. I go to hit her again, but I’m ripped off her with an arm around my waist.
“What in the fuck are you doing?” I’m shoved into a wall, and Cross stands in front of me, pinning me to it.
I don’t answer. Instead, I’m trying to catch my breath. It’s been a couple of years since I’ve been in a fight. Forgot how exhausting it is. The moment the adrenaline wears off, I’m going to want to crash.
A quick look around him shows Titan yanking Rachel up, and he escorts her out with the girls on his ass.
“Alexa?” Cross snaps, gripping my chin and forcing me to look up at him. “I asked you a question.”
“She … she pissed me off.” I manage to get out.
“Pissed you off?” he questions with a huff, clearly unhappy with my answer. I try to rip my face free, but he just holds on to it tighter. “I told you to stay at the bar.”
“And I told you not to lie to me!” I shout back.
“Fine.” He takes a step back from me, releasing my chin, and holds his arms out wide.
My eyes drop to his black combat boots and run up over his jeans and T-shirt. I blink, wondering just how much I actually had to drink. “Cross …” He’s covered in blood. “What happened?”
“You want the truth, Alexa? Here it is.” He takes a few steps back and walks over to the sinks. Turning on the water, he starts to wash his hands and forearms. Blood covers the porcelain sink, splashing up on the countertop.
“Where did you go?” I ask, trying to rack my brain about how long he left me at the bar for. I can only count the drinks I’ve had but even that number may be off by a few.