Three Sweet Nothings (Blindfold Club 5)

“No, I—”

The door to the last room opened abruptly and a tall guy stepped out, his stunned gaze finding Joseph.

“Monsato,” he said. He seemed just as surprised to see Joseph as the bouncer out front had been.

Shit!

Shit, shit, shit!

“Mr. Crawford,” Joseph said.

Tariq pulled the door to his room shut. “Thought you didn’t own this place no more.”

“I don’t, but I help out from time to time.”

I needed to get the fuck out of there before Tariq recognized me. I turned on my heel to head back down the hall, but swift, heavy footsteps rang out. Too late. A strong hand latched onto my shoulder and jerked me around by the lapel of my suitcoat.

Tariq stared at me like he was letting the recognition set in, and fury burned in his dark eyes. I was prepared for a fist to come flying my direction, and for it to hurt like a motherfucker.

Only he didn’t throw a punch. He let go of me, put his forearm in Joseph’s chest, and slammed my friend against the wall with an enormous bang. Joseph let out a surprised grunt of pain.

“What the fuck is this?” Tariq shouted.

Joseph’s face was shock and confusion, but then his gaze went down to the forearm pinning him to the wall. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, but you better get your fucking hands off me.”

The amount of malice in Joseph’s tone was stunning. Tariq was a weapon of muscle and power. On the field, he was fast, strong, and ruthless. Off the field, he didn’t have to play by rules, and he could crush my friend easily.

“Tariq.”

The deep voice came from the base of the stairs where Julius’s hulking form occupied most of the space.

Tariq turned his head, but didn’t release Joseph. “He set me up!”

“No, he didn’t. Let him go.” Julius moved closer, his posture a silent threat.

Joseph was released with a shove, and he straightened his suit, eyeing the larger man with disdain.

Tariq didn’t give a fuck. His gaze bounced to me. “Yeah? What the fuck is my wife’s lawyer doing here, then?”

Joseph’s mouth dropped open, finally clued in on what had set the football player off and why he’d been throttled against the wall. Did Joseph grasp the severity of this? What Tariq was doing was illegal, and worse, if it got out, it’d be a scandal too big for the NFL to ignore. Crawford had been coming to the club long enough to be labeled a regular. Long enough to know Joseph used to run the club.

Years of cheating on his wife, and with prostitutes.

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The attorney in me now had the bargaining chip I needed to get whatever I wanted on Courtney’s behalf. If my father were her lawyer, he’d be a shark and go for every last cent he could squeeze from Tariq.

But there were two very important things in play. First, the club was under FBI protection. They’d never let the scandal break because it’d jeopardize their sophisticated sting operation.

And second, I wasn’t my father’s son. I wasn’t going to put money ahead of everything else.

“I’m not here for you,” I said to Tariq, trying to keep my voice calm and professional. “I didn’t know—”

“Shut your mouth, ain’t nobody talking to you!” Abruptly Tariq began to pace in the narrow hall. He pushed his dreads back out of his face and seemed lost. Was he picturing his career unraveling?

He skidded to a stop and glared at Julius. “How’d you know he didn’t set me up?”

Julius’s expression twisted. The damage was done; there was no going back. He lifted a hand, gesturing for his friend to remain calm. “He was my lawyer.”