Page 73 of Obey

One word and both stop in their tracks.

Nate holds out his hand. “Your ID.”

“Fuck you.”

Getting tired of his bullshit, I give his shirt a sharp jerk, driving my knuckles into his windpipe. He chokes, grabbing at my wrist as I loosen my grip just enough for him to fumble his wallet out.

Nate takes the offered ID, photographs both sides, and hands it back.

“Thank you, darling,” I tell him before turning back to the bitch in my grip. "Here's what's going to happen. You're going to take your friends and leave. And if I find out you've done this to another woman, I'm going to make sure you regret it. And trust me, sweetheart, I'm very good at following through.”

I feel the man go rigid beneath my fist.

“Understood?” Elias asks.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Look at that. Fast learner.” I release his shirt and smooth the wrinkled fabric against his chest. "Now get the fuck out of my sight."

Smartest thing he's done all night.

We watch until they disappear into the crowd before returning to the mission. Sloane is still dancing, completely oblivious to what just happened, and I intend to keep it that way.

"Hey, Sugar," I call up once I reach the bar she's dancing on, voice pitched smooth over the pounding bass. "You celebrating without me?"

Her gaze snaps to me, pupils blown wide, lips spreading into a drunken, mischievous smile. “Jaaaace,” she slurs, crouching down like I'm her best-kept secret. “What're you doin' here?”

“Looking for trouble. Imagine my surprise when I found it standing on a bar.”

She laughs just as Trey pumps his fists into the air and yells, “Next round, body shots!”

The men around us cheer, and I vault onto the bar before she can move, and slide my arm around her waist. “Oh, no, no, no. This party's officially over.”

Pressing her sweet little body against mine, she looks up at me with the cutest pout. “You're no fun, Sugar thief.”

Christ. The way she looks at me almost makes me forget why I'm here.

But of course, Nate is here to remind me. “Sloane. Off. Now.”

Instead, she leans closer trying to whisper but she might as well be screaming. “He always sounds so mad, doesn't he? Did he eat today?”

I laugh. Of course she's worried about Nate being hungry when she's the one dancing on a bar. “He's fine, Sugar. Now, come on, gorgeous. Let's get you off this bar.”

“What if I don’t wanna?” she challenges, the bratty dare is so Sloane I want to eat her alive.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be, baby. You know I’m the nice one. Don’t make me prove that’s relative.”

She makes a show of sulking but accepts my hand as we guide her down. The crowd jeers at her departure, but I shoot them a cocky wink.

Back on solid ground, she wobbles against me, fingers digging into my bicep for balance. Nate’s attention drops immediately to the sway in her stance, and the unfocused shine in her eyes as she leans more of her weight into me than she probably realizes.

“How much has she had?”

Trey, still standing on the bar like this is all perfectly normal, squints down at her. “Enough that she thinks reposado is a personality trait.” Nate’s gaze snaps to him. Seeing the fury, Trey lifts both hands. “Oh, relax. I cut her off a while ago. She’s had water for the last twenty minutes, she ate before we came out, and I’ve been keeping an eye on her.”