Redeeming the Billionaire Playboy (Taming The Bad Boy Billionaire 6)

It wasn’t until James threw Robert all the way across the room that the fight came to an abrupt halt, ending with a deafening crash, followed by a loud cry.

“Enough!” James shouted, his chest heaving as he raked his fingers through his hair. “This is... Shit, this is crazy, Rob. I won’t fight you.”

The room quieted suddenly as the most reasonable and sane of the players hung up his gloves for good.

James stared across the room a second more, a look of profound sorrow tightening every corner of his perfect, bleeding face. Then he turned to me. “Come, Della,” he muttered on his way to the door. “Let’s go.”

I was more than willing to slip into the protective safety of his arm. We hurried into the hall, then the elevator, and I pressed the button frantically, so many times I feared I might break it.

Had we been lucky, the unpleasant part of the night would have ended there. We would have walked out the door and escaped with nothing more than a quick trip to a medical facility for a few stitches and a bandage, then a decade of therapy. Sadly, the one thing James and I never seemed to have was luck.

I saw Robert’s reflection in the metal doors before I even heard him coming up behind us, felt the vibrations in the floor before I even saw his face. James’s arm tightened around me, and he pushed me out of the way. He then turned in slow motion and raised one hand instinctively to protect his face, but that wasn’t where Robert was aiming.

Robert smashed his foot down into James’s leg, driving every bit of strength into that tragic little scar.

The look of genuine surprise that flashed across James’s face as he fell backward into the door, staring into his brother’s eyes the whole time was also unforgettable, as was the quiet gasp that escaped his lips as he bowed his head to his chest and was left pale and trembling, bearing unspeakable pain. Most of all, I would never, ever forget the terrible look on Robert’s face when the dirty deed was done. It was as if a flip had switched, as if a fire had been put out. In the blink of an eye, the game changed entirely, descended to a level neither opponent was willing to play.

“James...” It was half-whisper, half-gasp, as if Robert himself was astounded by what happened. He took a step forward, as if to help, then stopped, fearing he had no right. He lifted his hands helplessly in the air between them. “James, I didn’t...” There was a green pallor to his face, and for a second, I thought he might actually upchuck right there in the hall. “I can’t believe I just...” He moved his hands up slowly and placed them over his mouth as he stared down in horror at what he’d done. “Jamie, I’m so sorry!”

James said nothing, for it was much too late for sorry. In fact, it was too late for a lot of things. The damage was already done, and none of us were sure it could be undone.

Security rushed over and I explained the story.

“I’ll call an ambulance,” I said.

“No!” James replied.

“Yes, you need help.”

“I’ll take him,” Robert said.

“Like hell you will,” I roared.

James looked up at me. “Listen, he won’t hurt me. We get into spats like this all the time. Sometimes, we take it too far. It’s no big deal.”

“James,” I pleaded.

“Listen, Robert can take me. And I’m sure these gentlemen can help me into the car,” he said looking at the security guards.

“Yes sir,” one answered.

Once we were downstairs, Robert’s driver bolted toward us the second we staggered into view; the ashen tint to his lovely face as he clenched his teeth together, determined not to make a sound. James driver also arrived because I called him.

“Are you...okay?” James asked me.

“Am I okay?” I repeated in a daze, hardly understanding the question.

There was a ringing in my ears, the same one that had started the second James hit the floor. No matter how hard I tried to shake it, I felt like my body was only partially there; the other half of me was still up on that sixty-fifth floor, reliving that awful moment again and again.

“What are you... I mean, what are you talking about? I’m fine! James, he... I can’t believe he...” I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. My lips were tingling and no matter how many times I replanted my feet, it felt like my legs were about to give way beneath me, as if they were made of wet spaghetti. “It happened so fast. I didn’t... I mean, I couldn’t... How did you...”

James took one look at me, then turned and offered his own driver a remarkably calm smile. “Take her home.”

“What? No, I’m going to the hospital wit

h you.”

“Don’t worry. I’m a big boy.”