Page 17 of Wrecked By You

“It wasn’t what it looked like.”

“Really? And what did it look like?”

I blew out a breath. For some ungodly reason, I despised the idea that Ella would think I was some kind of abuser of women when the reality was quite the opposite. I’d survived abuse, albeit not doled out directly by Sadie. But she’d orchestrated it. She’d pulled the strings and set the events in motion. Events I still struggled to come to terms with. Events that had left me with a physical reminder and a deep-seated mistrust of women.

“Whatever you think, you’re wrong. I just saved that girl from sleepwalking into a whole heap of trouble.”

“Really?” She snorted. “You rode to her rescue like a white knight. Is that it?”

Her voice, layered as it was with such derision, stiffened my spine. I folded my arms and huffed a laugh, one filled with bitterness. “I’m no white knight. Trust me.”

“No. You’re not.”

She whirled around and strode off, her opinion of me set in stone. And what did I do?

I let her go.

Chapter7

Ella

First impressions aren’t always right.

I returned to the bar,the full bladder that had sent me to the bathroom forgotten in the wake of what I’d seen. Or thought I’d seen.

Could I have misunderstood? Had I witnessed nothing more than a lovers’ tiff?

I rubbed my forehead, scanning around for the girl. I couldn’t see her. Unsurprising, given how crammed it was in here, and Stan had told me earlier that this was less than half of the normal number of customers on a non-VIP night. I dreaded to think what tomorrow would bring and whether I’d cope with a massively increased workload.

If I didn’t get fired first.

Johannes emerged from the corridor that led to the staff bathrooms, hands tucked into the pockets of his black slacks, his trademark frown in place. He sought me out. Our eyes locked, and a tremor crept up both my arms and shot down my back. Fear? No, it wasn’t that. He didn’t frighten me. He confused me. He intrigued me. He fascinated me.

“Whatever you think, you’re wrong.”

And what did I think? If I truly believed he’d assaulted that girl, then I should call the police, even if I’d lose my job as a result. I snuck another sidelong glance at him to find him still staring at me. Pulling my gaze away, I busied myself with serving customers. Once my shift finished, I’d have time to think and decide what to do. I tried to picture the woman, her clothes, her hair color, her facial features, just in case I had to give a description to the police.

A little before two in the morning, the clubbers began to disperse, the packed crowd thinning until there were only a few stragglers left finishing up the remains of their drinks. I set about cleaning down the bar with a couple of the other women whom I hadn’t yet had much chance to engage with, but what I did know was how wrong my initial thoughts had been. They might have been blonde and leggy and beautiful, but they worked their asses off and were professional to a fault.

Tiffany—was that her name? I couldn’t remember—made her way toward me, a beaming smile showing off a perfect set of white teeth. Everyone in LA seemed to have the most amazing teeth, as if it were a rite of passage or something. Mine were okay, a little crooked on the bottom, but they didn’t hold a candle to Tiffany’s.

“How was your first shift?”

I smiled, allowing my shoulders to droop a little. “Exhausting.”

“Yeah, it’s relentless. Wait until you work a normal night.”

“Stan mentioned it wasn’t as full as usual. I just hope I can keep up.”

Tiffany winked. “You’ll do fine. You catch on fast.”

“Yes, she does,” a deep baritone drawled from over my right shoulder.

I startled, glancing behind me. “Thank you, Mr. Kingcaid.”

He tapped a fingernail on the bar. “A word, please, Miss Reyes.”

“Um, I still have to finish up here.”