Page 16 of Corrupt

“Cheers for the heads-up.” I collapsed into the office chair, everything settling like concrete across my shoulders, with the added T-shirt squeezing me to death.

Tyler cocked his head. “What happened to your top?”

“Spilt something down it. What are you? My mum?”

“Nah, mate.” He leant back on the sofa, stretching out an arm along the backrest, hooking an ankle over the opposite knee. “Just trying to figure out which bird it was.”

“Don’t go thinking too hard, Ty. It’ll give you a headache.”

“You like blondes, right? Carmon? Feisty one behind the bar?”

Fuck knew where he got blondes from. Probably because his missus’s mate was bleached blonde. Dark skin, tight afro she’d fried to hell with peroxide. Far as he knew, that was “my type.” Which was bullshit. Dangerously so. If he ever clocked the truth, he wouldn’t be narrowing to hair colour.

Though… Tristan was blond.

So maybe I did have a type.

Tyler opened his mouth, probably about to list another girl I’d barely glanced at, when the door opened again. Brilliant. My night just kept getting better.

Elliot stepped inside.

“Fuck’s sake,” I snapped. “Does no one out there know how to watch a door? Or does everyone just fancy barging in for a cuppa and a chat?”

My irritation came from being cornered. I knew that. But I also had to save face. Had to show I wasn’t losing grip.

“It’s handled.” Elliot folded his arms, then registered Tyler in the corner. His posture faltered a millimetre as Tyler stood up, silent loyalty, even with suspicion swirling behind his eyes. Elliot tore his gaze back to me. “I’m here to ask again what Lord Wolfe did to you to deserve to be escorted out like that.”

“I told you before.” I swiped my hands together as if rubbing off dirt. “I don’t like him.”

“If we turned away every man you didn’t like, Razor, none of us would be drowning in cash right now.”

I stared at him. Even Tyler noted the shift in the air. If Elliot had been some gobshite on Mare Street, I’d’ve cracked him one already. Instead, I laughed once and dragged a finger across my eyebrow to keep myself steady before lifting my gaze again.

“You telling me how to run my line?” The soft tone of my voice should’ve warned him enough that I was in no mood for a professional review.

But he hadn’t known me long. Didn’t know my triggers.

Unlike Tyler, who took a step forward.

“I’m trying to stop you,” Elliot glanced at Tyler, “stop us, from making a mistake so big even Cormac won’t cover it.”

“Really?” I tilted my head. “You got a hard-on for this bloke or something?”

Elliot’s chest rose, brittle pride in every breath. “The entire country has a hard-on for Lord Wolfe.”

“Well,” I stepped closer, “they can all go fuck him then, can’t they?” I leant in until he had to tilt his chin up to meet my stare. “Me? I like my dick clean.”

Something changed in him, then. Fear… or stupidity trying on bravery for size. I didn’t care which.

“You’re making a mistake,” Elliot pushed out. “We can still fix this if you call him back. Offer a complimentary package. Show goodwill.”

I angled my head towards Tyler. “He ain’t listening to me, Ty.”

Tyler nodded. “Hm.”

Elliot scoffed. “I can assure you—”

I didn’t let him finish. Fury had me gripped. So I grabbed him by the front of his shirt to slam him into the wall so hard the shelves behind him rattled. I locked my forearm across his throat, pinning him in place with enough pressure to make his face red.