Page 53 of Black Sheep
Before I make a decision, an alert pops up on the screen indicating I have a new voice mail. Because I’m a glutton for punishment, I tap on it to listen.
“You know you could call me once in a while. I’m not dead like your father.”
That’s all I need to hear before I hitdelete.I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life—real or fake.
I march back inside the bar,reallyready for that next drink, and I pause when I see Randi already has a live one on the line.
Dammit.
I take two more steps toward the table when he turns to the side and I catch his profile.What the hell?
It’s GTR, the guy who was outside Cannon’s apartment this morning.Oh. My. God. That’s impossible.But there’s no mistaking that it’s him. And he’s chatting up Randi like it’s his job.
Fucking hell.
What am I supposed to do now? I back away from the direction of the table, slipping behind a tall man, and make a break for the sidewalk. In my haste, I slam into someone and mumble an apology before sprinting to the exit.
Once outside, I text Cannon.
Me:I need you.
32
Cannon
The club isn’t as entertaining without Drew here. She’s only worked here a few days, and I’m still wishing she didn’t have today off.
I’ve been thinking about Dom’s request all day, and how the hell I’m going to get us out of it, but I’m still working out a solution.
My phone vibrates in my suit jacket pocket, and I pull it out to see a text from her.Like the universe knows I can’t get her off my mind.
But as soon as I read the words, I still. Instead of texting her back, I tap her contact and call. She answers on the first ring.
“What’s going on?”
“Well ... this is going to sound stupid, but I’m out with Randi and I left the table, and when I was going back, that guy who was outside your apartment this morningwas there hitting on her.”
GTR is in the same bar as Drew?
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.I should have stayed in Dom’s office until I got an answer about GTR or we had a plan to deal with him, but of course I fucking didn’t. Now he’s getting way too fucking close for comfort.
“Where are you?”
“On the sidewalk out in front of a sports bar called Lambo’s.”
Thankfully, I know where it is, and it’s not that far away. “You sure it’s him?” I ask, keeping my tone calm as I grab my keys and gun out of my desk drawer.
“Um ... dark hair, sideburns that turn into one of those ugly chinstrap lines that’s not really a beard.”
“Fuck. Stay away from the table. And for God’s sake, don’t drink anything. I’m on my way.” I jam the gun down the back of my suit pants and head out of my office.
“Wait, why?”
“I don’t want you even breathing the same air he does, so stay outside. I’m coming.” I stride across the club floor, my phone clutched in my hand.
“What about Randi?” Drew’s voice rises with concern for her friend. But Randi isn’t the one I’m worried about.
“Do what I told you, Drew. Randi will be fine.”
