Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ken had called out of work today.
James hadn’t minded, as the eruption of the website featuring Carter’s past sins as well as Ken’s in full detail had launched, and Club Euphoria’s socials were blowing up with questions.
Of course, no one on staff was answering, which left people to draw their own conclusions and seek out more information on their own.
James spent his lunch making sure plenty was available.
Ken couldn’t scare him anymore.
A week had passed since they’d come up with a game plan, and tomorrow was the collaboration with Tabletop Tavern. James packed up for the day and met Parker’s eyes from the cubicle over. “You heading over?”
Parker nodded. “Yeah, Micah’s working, and I want the scoop.”
Warmth bloomed inside him. They’d managed to dole a hit to Carter without Whipped suffering blowback, and with any luck, this would run him out of town. Still, he wouldn’t rely on luck. Ken might’ve cleaned up Carter’s messes in the past, but that wouldn’t continue.
Not if he had anything to do with it.
“Let’s go,” he said, one of the first ready to leave for once.
Nolan would be there too, and he couldn’t wait to see his boyfriend.
The word still shook him sometimes, little lingering quakes, but Andrew had always been kind beyond anything else.
He was a gentle soul who hadn’t deserved the hell he’d gone through, but James couldn’t keep him alive by punishing himself.
He was ready to embrace this new life with Nolan, the second chance he’d been gifted.
“See you guys,” Parker said, tossing a hand up to the other two guys at their cubicles. James offered a nod, and then they left together.
The walk to the Muni was quick, and they could get to Whipped in minutes.
On days like this, he loved being so close to his boyfriend’s work.
It made grabbing lunch together easy, and he was nearby if Nolan ever needed him—even though he was surrounded by friends willing to help at his workplace.
The light rail screeched to a halt in front of them, and they boarded.
James leaned against the window as it set off.
Parker glanced at his phone. “Fuck!”
“What’s going on?” James’s pulse picked up.
“Micah said Carter showed up with an entourage. Meg’s with a client, and he’s the only one out on the floor.” Parker let out a stream of curses. He dialed a number and brought the phone to his ear.
James’s pulse quickened. Pissed off like that, there was no telling what they’d do. He called Nolan at once.
“Hey? Is something wrong?” Nolan’s voice soothed him at once.
“Micah’s in trouble. Call the cops,” James said, keeping his voice level. “Then you and Sloan go out and help him. Try to deescalate the situation. We’ll be there as soon as possible.”
Parker hung up around the same time he did. “I already called the cops. Shit. Of course, this would blow up.” He balled his hands into fists and paced back and forth in front of James. “What if those fuckers touch him?”
“Nolan’s going to phone in too—which hopefully will get someone there as soon as possible.
Guaranteed there’s at least a few other people at the café right now, which means witnesses,” James said, even though his heart sped up.
“More likely, they’re trying to make a show of force.
The second Carter throws a punch, he’ll be in a world of trouble. ”
Still, since bombs had exploded on both Carter and Ken today, they wouldn’t be in the smartest frame of mind. He began to tap his foot. He’d just told Nolan to go out there and put himself in potential danger. Fear shot through him. They couldn’t get there fast enough.
The train ground to a halt, and the second the doors opened, Parker darted out first with James close behind. They didn’t wait to discuss—both broke into a flat run.
Whipped was a block from the Muni station, yet the thought of what could be escalating turned his veins to ice.
He rushed down the sidewalk in the direction of Whipped as the wind rushed by him, and his briefcase slapped against his side.
Cop cars hadn’t pulled up out front yet, but whether that was good or not depended.
His feet slapped against the pavement, the sound reverberating, and he rushed forward. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
His heart thumped hard. The Whipped sign stood out at the end of the block.
“We’ve got to get there,” Parker growled. He surged ahead even faster, not waiting as he raced up to the entrance and threw the door open. James rushed after him, and he skidded to a halt.
Carter had showed up with Ken and three other guys, which meant they outnumbered Micah, Nolan, and Sloan.
The café was empty, so anyone who had been here clearly evacuated.
“—how you think you’ll get away with this,” Carter screamed, leaning forward across the bar. His face was bright red, the cords of his neck bulging. Micah stepped back, but his jaw jutted forward. Micah’s vicious look conveyed he wouldn’t go down without a fight.
Ken glanced at them, his expression turning thunderous. “What the fuck are you both doing here?”
“I should be asking that question,” James said calmly, sliding his hand into his pocket. He didn’t need to see the screen to click what he needed. He pressed the button. “Why are you harassing Micah?”
“Move back,” Parker said, taking the first steps toward the bar.
“Don’t come closer,” Carter spat. “You do, and I can’t be responsible for what happens to the barista.”
“Hey,” Ken said, backing away. “We’ve got about even numbers now.”
James caught Nolan’s eye from across the room.
His boyfriend stood there, his hair in the usual low bun, a few strands astray, and his arms were crossed, his shoulders tense.
He and Sloan had emerged from the offices, standing right behind the three guys Carter had brought.
Tension hummed through the room, promising imminent violence.
Maybe they shouldn’t have pushed so far.
Fuck.
“What’s going on up here?” Meg asked as she emerged from the top of the steps. Her voice was sharp enough to cut diamonds. A well-dressed businesswoman strode behind her.
“Fuck you,” Carter said, lunging over the bar. He grabbed Micah’s arm and yanked him forward.
Parker roared and charged. “Let him go.” He pushed off on the surface and leapt over the bar in a smooth motion to grab Carter’s arm. He forced it away from Micah, stepping between them.
“What the fuck are you doing in my business?” Meg asked, her voice thunderous.
“Shit, man, this is getting messy,” a long, thin guy next to Carter said. “I thought we were coming here to shake them down a bit, make some light threats.”
“You think you can get away with this?” Carter whirled toward Meg, looking crazed, with a vein pulsing in his temple, his face cherry red. “I know you were behind all that nonsense. My reputation’s down the drain, and the messages are nonstop.”
Ken glanced at the door and inched a little closer to it. “Man, this is too public.”
“What, can’t bury this?” James asked, arching a brow. “Public altercation’s a bit harder to bury than those rape charges, isn’t it.”
Ken’s brows drew together, and his jaw clenched. “Just because a few women are complaining doesn’t mean that happened. They’re fucking crazy. Who’s going to listen to them?”
“I sure as fuck would,” Meg said. “One in five women have experienced rape, so I’m more likely to take their word than that of an entitled douchebag.”
Sirens sounded outside, and the tall guy bolted. “Fuck, I’m out.” He rushed out the door, which swung open and clanged shut, but his window of escape had already closed. Guaranteed, he would get stopped by the nearest officer.
Carter whipped around to Nolan and Sloan. “You called them, didn’t you.”
“I did,” Parker challenged, all but baring his teeth.
“Your focus should be on me,” Meg said, calm and cool as ever. “Kiandra, mind popping behind the bar while we deal with this? Micah can grab you a drink.” The woman who was with her slipped back with him, keeping an eye on the situation unfolding.
The door swung open, and two uniformed cops entered.
Normally, calling the cops wasn’t his first move, but in this situation, Carter and Ken already had ample public information against them.
The police officers stopped at the entrance to scan the room.
James reached into his pocket and pressed a button on his phone.
“Got reports of a disturbance,” the shorter female cop said, her arms crossed. “What’s going on here?”
“Thanks,” Meg said, slipping into business mode as she strode up. “Meg Roberts, owner of Whipped. This man and his entourage stormed in and started threatening my staff.”
“Bullshit,” Carter said. “This woman’s insane. She runs an illicit business, and you’d believe what she says?”
Meg lifted a brow. “Everything about my business is above-board.”
James pulled out his phone. “And I’ve got the recorded threats right here.”
“Fuck,” Ken swore, paling. He’d been trying to inch toward the door, but the other officer stood in the doorway, blocking them.
“All right, I’m taking everyone’s statements,” the woman said, heading to Meg first. She shot Carter a vicious look. “You’d better stay put. All of you.”
“I’ve got video too,” Nolan said. “He grabbed our barista.”
“Well, let’s see how you explain yourself out of that one,” the woman said to Carter. “People who work in the store, you go over here.” She pointed to the left side of the room. “People who arrived with this guy, to the right.” She gave Carter an up-nod.
He muttered about lawyers and moved to the right side of the room. Ken hesitated but, under the cop’s stare, shuffled over with Carter and the other two guys. A second later, the door opened again, and another police officer walked in with long and lanky, who’d failed to escape.