I’d looked into him when we were hired to protect Iris. Twice married, twice divorced. No kids, no arrest record. He owned his studio and made quite a comfortable living. His employees spoke carefully about him instead of glowingly.
Looking at him, all I saw was an arsehole. Skinny jeans and a hoodie, he might as well have been wearing Iris’s clothes. Except he was a grown man, near forty-years old. To me, he looked like a poser, someone clinging to a youth that had sailed away a decade ago.
No idea what Iris had seen in this man.
I stopped in front of him, waiting patiently to be given his full attention.
He peered up from his phone with narrowed eyes. “Can I help you?”
“Logan, right?”
Brow dropped, he stood tall, squaring his shoulders. “I don’t give autographs.”
“Shame I wasn’t asking for one.”
He stubbed out his cigarette under the toe of his checkered vans. Eejit.
“Would you like to tell me what I can help you with then? I’m a busy man. I don’t have time for games.”
I moved a step forward, close enough to see the broken blood vessels in his eyes and red around the rim of his nostrils. Iris really needed better taste in lovers.
“It’s funny, I’ve heard differently around you. You seem to have too much time on your hands and amuse yourself by harassing women.” I shook my head and bared my teeth in a brutal smile. “Actually, I should use the singular. One woman, as far as I know.”
He swallowed hard but maintained solid eye contact without shrinking away. “This is stupid, man. I don’t know you, and you clearly have no fucking clue who you’re messing with.”
“Mmm.” I stared down my nose at him. “You don’t need to know me, and I know exactly who I’mmessingwith. Have you spoken to Iris Adler lately?”
His breath hitched and mouth parted wide enough for me to get a good view of his caps in the back. Then he gathered himself and slammed his mouth shut in a firm line.
“I know Iris, but we haven’t spoken in a while.”
“Wrong answer.”
He tossed his arms out and bumped my chest with his like he had any hope of getting by me. “Man, I don’t know what this is. Just spit out what you want. You trying to intimidate me into staying away from Iris? I told the cops I didn’t break into her apartment. I don’t want the bitch. I don’t give a shit who she’s fucking so long as it’s not my girl.”
“Mmm.” I stayed silent, watchful, daring him to take a swing at me. I wasn’t a violent man by nature, but I’d experienced and dished out enough violence in my lifetime for it to come to me as easy as breathing. “Wrong answer again. You don’t know Iris Adler. She doesn’t exist.”
He clicked his tongue, shoving his shoulder into mine. “Get the fuck out my face, du—”
My fingers curled around his throat as I slammed his back against the brick behind him. His eyes widened, but most of the fight left him in a flood.
“I don’t think you heard me the first time, Logan.” I ducked my head so we were eye to eye, nearly nose to nose. “You don’t know Iris Adler. She does not exist to you. You don’t even perceive her. You go near her, I will be there. You call her, I will answer. You think of her, my face will appear instead. This ends now. And if word gets to me of you treating another woman the way you’ve treated Iris, I’ll be back here with a reminder. Because underneath this three-thousand-dollar suit is a crazy motherfuckerdyingto be unleashed.”
He swallowed beneath my hand. His face had gone flush even though I wasn’t squeezing hard enough for him to lose air. The man was peeing his pants in fear, and that was good. I wanted him to see me, take a good look at my height, my size, feel the calluses on my hands, witness a fraction of how terrifying I could become when it came to protecting my own.
“I don’t know what she told you but—”
“She?” I sniffed the air like a hound. “Who’s she? Who might you be talking about?”
He squirmed under my hold, but he didn’t come close to breaking free. The day was cool but sweat beaded on his upper lip. “I haven’t done anything to any woman, okay? I won’t do anything. Just leave me the fuck alone before I call the cops.”
“Mmm. Let’s be real, Logan Eugene Bryant. We both know you broke into that apartment. But was that the end of things? Did that satisfy your need for revenge because your girlfriend wasn’t satisfied by only you?”
He ground his teeth together and grabbed my arms in a poor attempt to pull me off. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. And if you’re sticking your dick in Iris, you have to realizeyou’llnever satisfy her. Even if you had seven dicks and eighteen pussies, she’d want more. So—”
His next words were cut off by my hand squeezing his windpipe. I was shaking with barely restrained fury. My reaction caught me off guard, surprising me by the extreme I was willing to take my confrontation with Logan Bryant.
“You. Do. Not. Perceive. Her.” My fingers flexed to ensure I had his full attention. “Are we clear, Logan? This ends right now.”