If it was pocket change he wouldn’t be here in the back of the bar being threatened, and Mr. Chain knows it. “Yeah right. You rich kids live on credit, but not with me. I don’t carry your broke asses on my books for longer than a week because I gotta pay the bills. So pony up your cash or you get to be this week’s warning to all your * friends that Tony Loreno isn’t anyone’s pawn broker.”
Easton’s shoulders set in a hard line as he slightly adjusts his stance. Shit. He’s preparing for a fight, and we all know it.
Tony reaches inside his pocket and fear spikes in my chest.
“Stop.” I dig into my purse for my keys. “I’ve got your money. Wait here.”
“What the hell, Ella?” Easton barks out.
No one waits. They all follow me to my car.
33
As I hit the key fob to unlock the trunk, I scan the parking lot for Reed’s Range Rover. I don’t see it anywhere, which means he probably parked in one of the spots along the other side of the building.
Relief floods my stomach, because Reed stumbling onto this little showdown would be the worst thing that could happen right now. He already beat the crap out of one guy tonight and I know he wouldn’t hesitate to do it again, especially to back up his brother.
“You better not be reaching for a weapon in there,” Tony hisses out, hovering behind me.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, buddy, I keep an arsenal of assault rifles in the trunk of my car. Chill.”
I lift up the felt square that covers the compartment for the spare tire and reach for the plastic baggie I stashed underneath the jack. There’s a heavy feeling in my chest as I pull the stack of cash from the bag and count out eight grand worth of bills.
Easton doesn’t say a word, but he watches me with a frown. He frowns even harder when I slap the bills into Tony’s hand.
“There. You guys are square now. Pleasure doing business with you,” I say sarcastically.
Smirking, Tony stands there and counts the money. Twice. When he starts to do it a third time, Easton growls.
“It’s all there, jackass. Get the hell out of here.”
“Watch yourself, Royal,” Tony warns. “I still might make an example of you just because I feel like it.”
But we all know he won’t. A beating would only draw attention to us and to his “business” dealings.
“Oh, and you can place your bets somewhere else from now on,” Tony says coldly. “Your money’s no good to me anymore. I’m tired of seeing your ugly face.”
The two guys stalk off, Tony tucking the cash in his back pocket, and yep, I can see his boxers hanging out of his pants.
When they’re gone, I spin around to Easton. “What is wrong with you? Why would you ever associate with creeps like that?”
He just shrugs.
Adrenaline surges through my blood as I stare at him in disbelief. We could have been hurt. Tony could have killed him. And he’s standing there like he doesn’t give a shit about any of it. The corner of his mouth is even quirked up as if he’s trying not to smile.
“This is fun for you?” I yell. “Almost getting killed gives you a boner, is that it?”
He finally speaks. “Ella—”
“No, just shut up. I don’t want to hear it right now.” I shove my hand in my purse and grab my phone, then text Reed to let him know Easton’s riding back with me and that he should meet us at home.
I’m still holding the plastic baggie in my other hand, so I toss it into the trunk, trying not to think about how empty it is. Eight grand gone, plus another three hundred from my shopping trip with Val today. Until Callum gives me next month’s ten-grand allowance, I only have seventeen hundred dollars in my escape fund.
I hadn’t planned on running, not after all the positive changes in my life, but right now, I’m tempted to take the money and go.
“Ella—” Easton starts.
I hold up my hand. “Not now. I have to find Val.” I dial her number, hoping she hears it inside the club.
Fortunately, she answers. “Hey, is everything okay?”
I glare at Easton. “It is now. Can you meet us outside at the car? The club isn’t going to let us back in.”
“On my way.”
“Ella,” Easton tries again.
“I’m not in the mood.”
He clamps his mouth shut and we wait in tense silence for Val to appear. When she does, I force Easton to sit in the cramped back. Val opens her mouth to object but decides, wisely, that it’s pointless.
The drive to her house is in complete silence.
“Call me tomorrow?” she says as she climbs out. Easton follows her out of the car.
“Yeah, and I’m sorry about tonight.”
She gives me a forgiving smile. “Shit happens, babe. No biggie.”
“Night, Val.”
She waves her fingers and disappears inside the Carrington mansion. Quietly, Easton slides into the passenger seat. I clutch the steering wheel in a death grip and force myself to focus on driving, but it’s hard to do when I’m seconds away from smacking the guy beside me.
About five minutes into the drive back home, my breathing finally steadies, and Easton’s voice drifts over to me.
“I’m sorry.”
There’s genuine regret there, and I turn to look at him. “You should be.”
He hesitates. “Why do you have money hidden in your car?”