Page 82 of Lesson In Honesty
“No? I believe a federal court in San Francisco awarded a man one hundred and thirty-six point nine million dollars in damages for racially-based harassment.” Retrieving the phone, Eli slipped it back into his pocket. “What you’ve done to your victim is discrimination. You saw a face you didn’t like and did everything in your power to make sure she knew it.”
“I’ll destroy your reputation from east coast to west,” she promised, seething with hatred as she stepped from the booth. “If you think I won’t make you pay for this one way or another, you’re sadly mistaken. And as for that abomination… well, she might just end up having an accident.”
Mack leaped before he thought about his actions. He felt the slam of something impacting his chest, yet there was no pain; it was smothered under the need to disassemble the woman who so casually threatened Sierra’s life.
Elias kept him back with an arm. “We take death threats seriously, Ms. Kenworth.”
“Death threat?” She had the gall to look shocked. “I never—”
Grit stepped in, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes met Mack’s for a split second, but the warning in them was clear—do not say a fucking word. I’ve got this.“Seems to me, people like you make a habit of throwing threats around. Don’t get what you want, when you want it, and you get nasty. There’s one little problem with that—want me to tell you what it is?”
“Oh please,” she answered with a roll of her eyes. “Enlighten me.”
“Those hands aren’t made for work. You’d snap a nail and cry for a week if you had to do anything more than lifting a cocktail glass. Which means when you want something done, you pay for it. No matter what it costs.” He didn’t react when she hissed at him, a feral cat trapped in a corner. “Word to the wise, Ms. Kenworth. I have connections of my own. Lots of them, digging deep into the dark web. If I find anything that I think might be you trying to seek revenge, I’ll unleashmymonster.”
When she opened her mouth, he just tapped a finger against his own to demand her silence.
“The beast in my corner is a world apart from the soft soul you’ve labeled as one. You have no comprehension of what you’ll be up against; you won’t even see it coming.” Expression flat, Grit jerked his chin toward the door. “My advice to you is take the deal Master Elias offered. Pack your shit and leave. Forget all about this place, and we’ll do the same.”
“How stupid do you think I am? Beasts and monsters, the dark web.” Waggling her fingers in mock terror, Portia laughed.“By the time I’m done, I’m going to own this stupid club and all of you. Starting with watching this bastard,” she continued, indicating Mack with an irritated flick of her wrist, “being dragged off in handcuffs.”
“If that’s your decision,” Grit replied amiably. He shifted his weight, turning slightly to peruse the room. More members were filtering in as the peak hours began, and he took his time searching the faces. “Little tiger, come here please.”
A white-blonde head lifted, seeking his voice.
Mack couldn’t help but smirk. The dread in his gut eased slightly, because when Tabitha got involved, shit seemed to get done without a lot of fuss.
Little tigerwas an apt endearment, he realized as she prowled over to her Dom. She was slender, yet her exposed skin stretched to perfection across toned muscles. Every step was a study in feline grace—she knew exactly what her body was doing, how to control it, and the knowledge was so ingrained, she didn’t even have to think about it.
Violence shimmered around her in a dark halo.
Beautiful but fucking deadly.
“You summoned me, oh Master?” Tabitha leaned against her Dom casually, but her eyes were cold and sharp as they scanned everyone involved in this little ruckus, finally landing on Portia.
Grit lowered his head, whispering in her ear.
Slowly, Tabitha’s stare became lethal as her body becamemore.Subtle shifts in her muscles, a change in her stance from easy to weaponized. She gave the impression of being a loaded gun, aimed steady and true, just waiting for someone to pull her trigger, all while gleaming like a freshly sharpened sword.
So different from the woman who’d suffered numerous panic attacks in short order because her Dom suggested anal sex.
She licked her lips in a predatory manner, then rolled her bottom lip between her teeth. Nodding lightly, she didn’t takeher eyes off Portia for a second, and the blue… fuck, the blue of her irises turned arctic.
When she grinned, Portia’s skin became translucent.
“Yes, Master Grit.” Mimicking a vampire—which wasn’t out of the realm right now, Mack mused—Tabitha ran her tongue over her canine tooth. “It will be my pleasure to take the trash out. One bag or two?”
Portia pushed past Eli to latch her claw-tipped hand on her boyfriend’s arm. “Come on, Dustin. If we stay here any longer, God knows what insanity we’ll be infected with.”
It took all Mack’s willpower not to laugh when Tabitha just reached out and wrapped the length of Portia’s brunette hair around her wrist, yanking the woman’s head back without mercy. “I’m afraid you had your chance to leave peacefully. Now I get to show you what a real monster looks like. Ready to play?”
Grit signaled the two security guards to escort the subdued and very bloody Dustin from the bar. The guy already sported the makings of two black eyes, and his nose and cheeks were swollen. Blood was drying… everywhere.
Dustin was a gusher.
Taking no prisoners, Tabitha dragged Portia away, leaving a trail of squeals and outraged protests in her wake. Grit’s submissive didn’t pay her any attention, just relentlessly hauled the bitch to wherever she was going.
“Well, that was unpleasant.” Scowling, Elias shook his head. “Thank you for not murdering anyone on club property, Maverick, but next time try not to rearrange their faces on the furniture. Even if the arrogant twat deserved it.”