Chapter 24 Justin
Justin
The thumping club music is loud. Unfortunately, not loud enough to drown out what Ivy and her friend are saying. I’m not trying to be an asshole, but the only person I’m interested in chatting with is Doc. I flick my gaze through the crowd, to the wall and the bar, and my gut drops. Doc’s gone.
I leap up and beeline to Jack. ‘Where’s Doc?’
‘She left. Shift’s over.’ His stoic voice offers zero other details.
I check my watch. 12:05 a.m.. Dammit. I’d been ogling Doc all night like a love-struck teenager and was only momentarily distracted by the fake laugh and imposing questions from the studio receptionist. She left without saying goodbye?
Doc has never left a shift without saying goodbye.
Why did I touch her like that? I mean, I know why I did, but how shitty am I to think I had the right to do that, when she’s done nothing but draw hard, strict boundary lines since she started?
Maybe she’s still outside. I have to find her. Now. ‘Which door?’
‘The northwest corner,’ Jack says. Where the hell is northwest? When I squint, he points to the left. ‘Over there.’
I split, and vaguely hear a muffled, ‘Jesus Christ, Justin. Wait!’
I weave through the crowd like I just caught a pass and am heading to the endzone. Before Doc leaves, I have to see her, apologize and explain my actions on the dance floor.
For once in my life, I’m just going to be honest and tell her while dancing, my emotions took over, and I lost in myself in her vanilla scent and silky-smooth skin.
With her body so close to me, it took every ounce of my strength not to push her up against the wall and taste the lips I’ve been thinking about for weeks.
But then I did it – I put my hands on her thigh, without consent. The thought of her being so offended that she abruptly ended the dance makes me sick. So many men in Hollywood, hell, everywhere, do this. And now, me. Fuck.
‘Sorry,’ I mutter to someone that I bump into. Behind me, Jack’s pleas for me to stop fade into the crowd.
I throw open the side exit door, my heartbeat thudding in my chest. Where the hell is she?
Behind the ropes to the left, people fill the sidewalk.
No Doc. The rest of the sidewalk holds a handful of pedestrians.
Shit. Is she gone already? She left less than five minutes ago.
I pivot sharply, jog the other way, and freeze, squinting at the bodies on the otherwise empty sidewalk.
What the … I sprint harder than I’ve ran in years, my body blazing, taking in the scene. A barefoot Doc, gripping Conner’s wrist with one hand as her elbow drives into the back of his triceps. Conner dropping to his knees, trashing, yelling.
My feet pick up speed. Doc says something, Conner lifts, slowly, and stands against the wall, rubbing his arm. Doc steps several feet away from Conner, not breaking her gaze. She’s fierce as hell, but she looks so tiny next to him. Rage burns through me.
‘You stupid bit—’ Conner’s words are cut off by me slamming into him and gripping him the way Doc taught me on the mats.
Heavy breaths, shoving hands, yells fill the space. My ears ring, drowning out Doc telling me to stop. Red fills my vision, my throat is on fire. Doc jumps in between us, her arms strong, holding us apart.
‘Justin. Enough!’ she says, levelheaded. She’s sandwiched between Conner and I – two former USC football players who each outweigh her by at least fifty pounds and tower a good six inches – but she holds a straight back, steady arms and firm voice. ‘Go back inside. I have this under control.’
My heartbeat thuds in my ears. ‘No fucking way am I leaving you. What did he do to you? Are you okay?’ Conner must’ve forced himself on Doc.
She would’ve never attacked him without cause.
Hot lava courses through my veins. I’m going to rip off his skull.
Doc’s hand pressing firmly on my torso is the only thing keeping me from a full-on assault.
‘Conner, you need to leave,’ Doc says, her voice authoritative and freakishly calm.
How is she so calm? I know what I saw. Conner did something to make Doc react like that, and my pulse thuds in my ears. I refuse to blink. If Conner makes even the slightest move, one single step, I’ll pounce.
White and red stripes line Conner’s neck as he shoots Doc a death stare. ‘Fuck you.’
‘What did you just say?’ I grit my teeth so hard I’m going to shatter a molar. ‘Disrespecting her you motherfu—’
‘Why you mad at me, brother?’ Conner snaps, taking a step back. His red eyes narrow. ‘She was all over me, and got pissed when I told her no.’
‘Enough.’ Doc’s forearm flexes against me, her other arm bent toward Conner, like she’s ready to strike. ‘Conner, leave. Do not make this hard—’
‘She was all over you? Fucking liar.’
‘You’ve seen how she is around me.’ A smirk passes on Conner. ‘You’re so goddamn naive, letting her play with you like this. She literally stormed off the dance floor when you tried to dance with her. You let everyone manipulate you. Come on, man, you’ve got to be smarter than this.’
‘Guys, please, stop. Let’s cool off,’ Doc says, but I barely register the words.
The alley blurs. Naive. Manipulated. My face burns. ‘Everything you say is a lie. Why are you even in my life? Nothing good comes from being around you.’
Conner’s mouth drops. ‘Nothing good? I was the one who had your back at the fight in San Diego. Remember?’ His voice rises.
‘Who stayed in the hospital with you when you got your concussion? That was me, too. I flew to Nashville for your grandma’s funeral.
I’ve done so much shit for you, you ungrateful asshole. ’
None of it matters. He hurt Doc. ‘We’re done.’
Doc shifts her hips and swings her focus to Conner. ‘Go stand by the taxis.’
‘You seriously gonna let a chick come between us?’ Conner releases his fighting stance and crosses his arms. ‘We’ve been friends for fourteen years. You’re not doing this.’
I exhale a shaky breath through my nose. ‘You did this. Not me. You.’
‘I can’t believe you’re choosing her over me.’ Conner drops his arms and looks between Doc and me. ‘Why do you even care? She’s nothin’ but the help.’
Red! I break free of Doc’s grip and my fist makes direct contact on Conner’s jaw.
Stumbled feet, hot angry breaths, grunts and elbows and fists scatter the air.
I plow into him, tackling him to the pavement.
Yanks and twists battle gravity. Powerful arms grip my chest from behind and yank me off Conner like I weigh nothing.
I blink into the night, my head clouded.
Doc? Conner scrambles upright. I leap to my feet, and he lunges, fists aimed.
Doc sweeps Conner’s legs. He hits the ground with a thud, and she pins his arms behind his back.
‘We don’t want to do this, all right? Relax!’ Her voice booms, the red dress stretched tight against her legs, the black shorts underneath peeking out. Conner thrusts and kicks, but when Doc pushes into his shoulder blade, he yelps in pain.
‘Justin! Doc.’ Jacks voice booms behind me. He grips me by the scruff of my shirt and tugs me away. ‘Jesus Christ, we good here?’
‘We’re good, Jack,’ Doc says, her chest heaving as her knee pushes into Conner. ‘Get Justin out of here. Call the car, then call the club security to take care of Conner.’
I drag my hands down my face, my breath shaky, my pulse slamming into my chest. ‘Doc—’
‘Not a fucking word,’ she says through tight teeth, her jaw looking like it’s popping a muscle.
Shit. She is pissed.
‘Jack,’ she commands, jutting her head at me.
He nods, pulls out his cell, then tugs me to the side. ‘Justin. We need to leave immediately.’
Absolutely not. Adrenaline and anger course through my veins, my breath releases in heavy spurts. What if Conner gets up, tries something, hurts her? ‘I’m not leaving.’
Jack stiffens his back. ‘This is not negotiable. Doc has things under control,’ he says, catching my gaze with a stern scowl. ‘You are now more of a threat to Doc than Conner.’
‘What?’ How is that even possible? Everything blurs. Doc is glaring at me with so much venom I’m going to be sick. Jack is as stern as I’ve ever seen him, which is saying a lot, and Conner is calm on the ground. The SUV rolls up to the side. I look at the vehicle then back at Doc.
‘Leave!’ Doc damn near growls.
Fuck. I follow Jack into the car, my mouth hot and sticky, my heartbeat railing against my chest. As I slump into the seat, beads of sticky sweat prickle at my neck and I can’t breathe.
What have I done?