Page 6 of Deal with Mr. Cruel

“You said it, man. Not me.”

“Roger. Calm down,” the redhead pleaded.

“You think you can just walk around Boston doing whatever you want because you throw a ball?” Roger asked, his face inches away from Nico’s.

Jonas finally pushed his way through the onlookers and stood next to Nico. Roger backed up slightly.

“Why don’t we just calm down a little,” Jonas said, holding his hands up. “What’s the problem here?”

“This punk had his tongue down my fiancée’s throat,” Roger said, nodding towards Nico.

Nico gave Jonas an innocent smile and a shrug.

“I see,” Jonas said, looking at the redhead who wouldn’t make eye contact.

“And who areyou?” Roger asked, looking at Jonas.

“He’s the guy your fiancée was trying to go home with before she found me,” Nico said with a smile. “You really should keep a tighter leash on her.”

“Nico,” Jonas warned, shaking his head. Why did he have to open his mouth?

Jonas then watched everything unfold as if in slow motion. Roger brought his fist back and slammed it into Nico’s left eye, causing him to fall backward into the barstools. The redhead screamed and covered her eyes. Nico was clambering to his feet as Roger approached him, carrying a barstool over his head.

“Let’s see how you throw with a broken arm.”

Jonas stepped in front of Roger and punched him in the stomach, causing him to double over and drop the barstool. He tried to stand upright and charge, but Jonas punched him again, this time square across the face. Security grabbed both of them, holding each back.

“Throw this man and his so-called fiancée out of my bar!” the bartender said firmly. Security let go of Jonas and led the couple out the doors. The patrons cheered as Jonas helped Nico up from the floor.

“Thanks, boss,” Nico said as the bartender handed him some ice.

“You just had to open your mouth, didn’t you?” Jonas said, annoyed.

Nico held the ice to his eye. “It’s not my fault his girl has a wandering eye. The guy should know.”

Jonas shook his head. He didn’t understand what his father saw in Nico. His father had loved the kid, almost like his own son. He had seen him as some sort of underdog that he needed to help rise to the top. Jonas had been somewhat jealous of their relationship, but he would never admit it.

It was no mystery to anyone that the two didn’t share the same relationship as the previous owner. Jonas was hard on Nico because he couldn’t afford a player getting into any serious trouble. Sure, maybe it was a little more than that. Maybe it was out of spite, but he’d label it as tough love to anyone who questioned it.

“Let’s get you home,” Jonas said firmly.

“I can get myself home,” Nico said, protesting.

“I don’t trust you to.”

Nico rolled his eyes and said goodbye to the rest of the team, who stood back, eyeing the situation from a distance. They all patted him on the back and said goodbye to Jonas.

As Jonas led Nico out the bar doors, he texted his driver to come to the curb and him up. After a minute or so, the black town car pulled up. His driver stepped out and opened the back passenger door. Nico ducked inside and Jonas followed.

“Where to, Mr. Matthews?” his driver asked.

Nico leaned forward and said his address—Mae’s address.

It hadn’t hit Jonas until just now. He had never been to her house before and was suddenly curious to see it, even if it was just from the outside.

The city lights whizzed by the darkened windows as they rode in silence. After a while, Nico said quietly, “Thanks for saving my ass tonight. That guy was huge.”

“Just looking out for the team.”