She smiled up at me as I walked to the edge of the bed, but as the realisation I wasn’t staying dawned on her, the smile slid off her face. “You’re leaving?”
Nodding, I said, “Sorry, baby, I’ve got something I have to take care of right away. It can’t wait.”
Fuck, I hated to do this to her.
I ran my hand along her jaw before I let it drop to her collarbone where I traced a line down to her breast. Her hand met mine, and she grasped my wrist and pulled my hand away from her body.
Angry eyes glared at me. “Do
n’t fucking start something you’re not going to finish.”
“I am going to finish it, just not now. I’ll be back in a couple of hours for that.”
She shook her head. “No, I’ll be asleep. Don’t come back tonight.”
Annoyance shot through me. “Don’t do this, Layla. I have to take care of this but trust me when I say I’d rather stay here with you.”
Her glare challenged me. “Well, stay. It’s your choice, Donovan.”
“No, it’s not.”
We stared silently at each other, neither willing to back down.
Eventually, I said, “I have to go. I’ll call you when I’m done.”
She didn’t say anything and I left. I had to. I couldn’t put it off any longer.
But I couldn’t put her glare and her silence out of my mind.
And it fucked with my concentration.
***
As I entered Phil’s home a little while later, my demons roared to life at the sight of him tied to a chair with dried blood painted on his face. The wild look on his face as he watched me approach also pleased me.
“Thanks for fitting us in to your busy schedule, Deacon,” I said.
Ben had gagged him, so he couldn’t form a reply but he grunted his displeasure.
I pulled up a chair and sat next to him. “It seems we have a problem that only you can help us solve.” I paused and then continued, “As you know, we had a couple of hundred men walk offsite today due to some fucked up union representative’s encouragement. And now we need you to fix that.”
He grunted, and I decided I’d had enough of his silence. I pulled my knife out and cut the gag from his mouth. The fear in his eyes at the sight of my knife encouraged me. I stood and grabbed his hair. Shoving my face closer to his, I pushed his head back to expose his neck. I ran my blade across it, light enough not to draw blood, but heavy enough to induce more fear.
“What do you say, Deacon? You gonna fix that shit for us?”
“Fuck you, Blade,” he spat.
Anger roared in my ears, forcing the blood in my veins to pump furiously through me. “What the fuck did you just say?” I thundered, pressing the knife harder against his throat.
As the first drop of blood kissed my blade, he answered me, “I said, fuck you, motherfucker.”
I pushed his head hard so it snapped back before bouncing forward again. My body moved fast as I kicked my chair out of the way, cut his restraints off, dropped my knife on the table next to us, and yanked him out of the chair. Gripping him by his shirt, I shoved him hard against the wall, and immediately punched him in the face. Blood spurted onto my shirt but I ignored it. My only focus was Phil.
And Layla.
Fuck.
I couldn’t get her angry glare and words out of my head.