Dark Ties (Made Men 9)

Behind the tinted window, as the driver pulled away from the curb, Haley caught a brief glimpse of Zach trying to catch Desmond Beck’s shoulder, to keep him from walking away from what he was trying to tell him. Haley gripped the door handle when, with a swift movement from Beck, Zach was sent flying over his shoulder.

Zach was twice as large as Beck, yet it was Zack lying prone on the sidewalk without minimum effort from the man who didn’t break his stride, leaving Zach without a second glance. He knew Zach wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon. Chills ran down Haley’s spine, reminding her of the first day she had met Desmond Beck.

There was more to Desmond Beck than he exposed to the public. She had forgotten that first impression of him because she wasn’t around him frequently or associated with him enough to worry about what he was like personally, away from the work she had been hired to perform.

She wouldn’t make that mistake again. Desmond Beck wasn’t the aristocratic gentleman he portrayed himself to be. The man she had witnessed reacting instinctively to Zach’s aggression had revealed a man more than capable of physically defending himself. No fear had been on Beck’s face. What had been was the enjoyment of getting what he wanted. He had used the excuse of Zach touching him to hurt him physically.

Haley leaned back in her seat. Beck must have been wanting an excuse to fire and bash Zach in the ground for a while for him to have reacted so swiftly. She told herself to stop shivering, stop yearning to have the same strength Beck had exhibited.

The imagery of her sending Zach over her shoulder after being called a fat bitch had her thinking of taking one of the self-defense lessons that were taught at Moonbeam. Nadia would be a pain in her butt when she asked her to email her the schedule of lessons tomorrow. Her BFF would ask about her change of heart. Haley knew she wouldn’t be able to tell her. Otherwise, Nadia would jump on a flight to Queens City just to kick Zach in his sperm bank.

“If you’re cold, I can turn up the heat?” her driver offered.

“Thanks, I would appreciate it.”

Registering she was still shivering from witnessing the interaction between the two men, she folded her arms across her chest for warmth.

Working for the teenagers at Moonbeam, Haley had witnessed her fair share of fights between both sexes. She had even observed fights while out and about in the city and, while upsetting, she hadn’t reacted with the same sense of unease. No, something was totally off about Desmond Beck. His reflexes had been more like a man accustomed to participating in a bar fight than the verbal altercations that most men with his standing handled.

She was overanalyzing the situation. In two days, she would be back home, and she wouldn’t have to see Mr. Beck for another two or three weeks. Everything would go back to her normal, well-ordered life. Hell, she might even stop on the way to work to get donuts, and not the cheap ones, but the designer ones from the store a block from the office. She would even carry a few of them back to her office in front of the other workers, promising herself that, if she did, it wouldn’t bother her if they called her “the fat bitch who had Zach fired” behind her back.

The fancy donuts aren’t going to make them like you, she scolded herself.

Maybe not, she argued back mentally. But with a caramel-dipped donut, topped with graham cracker crumbles, she would be able to block out their negativity.

With revenge on her mind, she made a plan of action. She would arrive early so that Zach would see the huge box of gourmet donuts, sitting out in plain sight, when he went to get his coffee cup from the breakroom. She would even charge the purchase of the donuts to the expense account Mr. Beck had given her, hiding it in the miscellaneous category. He would never know. Hell, she might even spring for a latte.

Four

Infuriated, Desmond watched the Uber driver pull the car away from the curb with his little accountant tucked safely inside. He was so angry that he wanted nothing more than to use the briefcase he was holding to pound the fuck out of the employee whom he had just sent flying over his shoulder.

“Exactly why am I paying you a generous salary to watch my back when I have to do it myself?” he barked out at the biker whom he heard coming up behind him.

Jackal gave him one of his twisted smiles. “Technically, you didn’t need defending. The shithead wasn’t a threat.” With his eyes, the biker followed his former employee as he sprinted toward the parking garage before turning back to him.