Page 80 of Crash into me
This place is a den for all of Miami’s vices.
The guys stop to talk to someone, and the man gestures further. I slip into the crowd, dancing and smiling my way through like I actually belong here.
A few empty rooms dot the end of the building, and the guys walk into the last one. I slip inside the room beside it and place my ear to the thin wall.
“You wanted to see the Keeper?” The man laughs, an arrogant, disgusting laugh. “He doesn’t see anyone.”
Foster, who I imagine has his tattooed arms crossed against his broad chest, replies, “I want to get a point across. I made a deal with him, and I haven’t fucking backed out so why am I, or my family, receiving threats.”
A chair slides against the floor. “It wasn’t a threat,” the man sneers. “It’s just a friendly reminder.”
A thump sounds on the other side, and my heart drops. “No more of that shit.” Foster tells him.
The room grows quiet, and the patter of feet descend down the hall. I did what I was supposed to do, and now my work is done. I just needed to know he was safe. I peek my head into the room they’re in, and a man lies on the ground with a bloody nose. Turning my head, I see Foster ringing out his hand.
I stay close behind them, not wanting for the man he hit to come barreling after us. I’m nearly flush against his back as we work our way through the crowd.
I’m also in earshot. “I’m going to rip this city apart,” Foster grunts.
“That’s what he wants,” Wes tells him.
“How am I supposed to protect them?” Foster’s tone grows desperate.
Wes passes by the card room, looking in it for a moment before turning his attention to Foster. “At this point,” Wes says, hating himself for saying this. “you just need to finish the debt. All that was last night was a scare tactic. It was meant to rile you up, but once your debt is paid, the threats will stop.”
Foster unclenches his fists, lowering his voice even further. “I don’t want anything to happen to them.”
“I won’t let anything happen to them,” Wes promises, patting Foster on the back. “How about we grab a drink?”
Foster nods his head. “Yeah, alright.”
They sink into a room like they know the place. But for all I know, Foster’s been here a million times. He keeps his racing life so separate from everything, and I’m barely splashing on the surface of it.
They get two bottles of beer and turn them up, trying to calm Foster down.What do I do?Should I go back out to the car and wait? I didn’t think this part through.
“Hey there,” a man whispers in my ear, and a little scream escapes me.
His hands are on my shoulders. “Get off me,” I sneer.
“Oh, come on.” The stench of bourbon laces his lips. “Don’t act all innocent. Everyone here knows why pretty young girls come to the harbor this late at night.”
His hands dip to my hips, and he pulls me against him.
I scream, “Don’t touch—” His hand flies over my mouth, stopping me from protesting. “Stop!” I plead, my voice muffled.
But this is a crowded area, not a dark alleyway in the city. “I think the lady said to stop.” Foster leans against the wall, sizing the man up.
“Fuck off,” the man snaps, positioning himself in front of me. Foster can’t see that the woman the man groped is his girlfriend.
A moment later, Foster’s beer bottle breaks against the man’s head, sending him to the ground and revealing me cowering behind him.
“What in the fuck?” Foster mouths, not giving it a second thought before his fist is colliding with the jaw of the pervert.
Wes peels him off of the man, and Foster’s body is surging with adrenaline. He came here to pick a fight tonight, and he got his wish. As he steadies himself, his inked hands grip the door frame. “Skyler,” he breathes. “Are you okay?”
I’ve never seen his eyes so wide with worry, with fear. I curl my hand around his lean arm. “I’m totally fine.”
He slings his arm around me, stalking through the crowd and radiating a vibe that tells anyone who’s in his way that they’re next if they try anything.