Page 11 of Brutal Scoundrel

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“Right… Mr. Schalk. I was looking for him and found this by accident.”

“You expect me—or him—to believe that? You’ve been here one day and you’re already snooping. You’re either a thief or an undercover agent. Are you working for the FBI?”

“What? No!” I start to laugh before I realize he’s not joking. Seriously? The FBI? What would they want with any of this? Do I even look like an FBI agent? “I mean…neither. I’m not snooping, I’m just—”

He glances down at the money. “I suggest you put it back, sweetheart, if you value anything in your life. Put it back where you found it before Mr. Schalk gets here. If you’re lucky, I won’t say a thing.”

I nod. He’s right. What would this look like if Roman—Mr. Schalk—walked in right now?

“Yes. Of course.” My nervous fingers struggle with the drawer, but I get it open and shove the envelope inside, then the money on top. Standing from the desk, my heart is thundering as I head for the doorway. I’ll wait outside and nobody ever needs to know—

Jack pushes the door closed behind him. Click.

“What are you doing? I—I’ll just leave.”

He shakes his head slowly, his tongue playing with the corner of his lips like he’s lost a bit of food there and is trying to find it again. “Not yet. Take your dress off.”

“What? No!”

“You want me to say nothing to Roman, you need to… sweeten the pot, so to speak. Don’t worry, you’ll enjoy it.”

This is not happening.

I need to go. I need to go right now. And I need to get that money for Anthea. I’ll find Roman, beg him to help me. “Let me go. I don’t have time for this.”

He steps forward from the door, and I back away, but he follows me across the room until the desk is hard against my buttocks. Nowhere to go. He reaches out and grabs at my hip, fingers twisting into the fabric of my dress.

“Come on. You want it. I want it. Where’s the harm?”

“I don’t want anything from you except to let me go.”

“Oh, don’t play shy with me. I know the effect I have on women. You’ll enjoy it, I promise. Come on, take your dress off, stop playing hard to get.” His hands slide to the hem of my dress and start pulling, and I wince as I have to touch him to push him away.

“Stop it!”

“Come on, sweetheart, let me see that lovely little wet patch—”

The slap surprises me as much as it does him. My hand connects sharply with the side of his face, making a sound like the crack of a whip as he cries out in pain. It gives me just enough time to slip away from his grip, backing to the corner of the room.

I decide in that moment that If I have to, I’ll fight him. I’ll kick and scream and scratch until he doesn’t want anything from me.

“You little bitch!” Anger flashes in his eyes as he turns back to me, rubbing at his cheek that’s already coming up with red finger-shaped welts. “I’m going to enjoy making this painful for you!”

I snarl at him, a cornered animal ready to put up whatever defense she can, when the door flies open, slamming into the wall, and both of us turn. Suddenly, the room feels darker. Smaller. Roman takes up so much of it it’s like there’s less air and I’m struggling for breath.

“Motherfucker!”

“Roman, man, it was her, I…” Jack scrambles back, feeling his way along the desk as Roman stalks into the room, the scar on his lips twisting as he begins to seethe. “I caught her stealing from you! The envelope in your drawer… and then she offered me sex to forget all about it. But I told her… I told her… Agh!”

Roman’s hammer-like fist pummels into Jack’s face, throwing him back against the wall and I hear the shriek from my own lips as his blood spurts. Jack slumps, but Roman already has him by the collar, lifting him and leaning in, growling like a beast as his breaths hiss through his nose, head glinting like a knife edge.

“What were you going to do if I hadn’t come in here when I did? Huh?”

Jack’s feet are struggling against the wall, trying to find purchase, and his eyes land on mine. There’s a plea in them, but what does he expect me to do? Stand up for him? I straighten my dress, feeling violated, and narrow my eyes as I set my jaw. He’s on his own.

“Look at me, asshole, not at her. Now, tell me. What were you going to do?”

“All right, all right! Fuck! I wanted her. Can you blame me? Frigid little bi—” His voice turns to a high-pitched squeak as Roman tightens his grip. “But I’m telling the truth, man! She was going to steal from you! Do you really care about a little thief like her?”


Tags: Aria Cole, River West Romance