Bad Intentions (Bad Love #2)(42)

Jake pushes the door open, arms folded across his chest. “Is there a problem here?” Sutton is right on his heels, phone in hand as if she’s ready to call the police.

God, this is humiliating.

“Why don’t you go back to flipping burgers?” Eric spits, condescension coating every word.

Before he can respond, the door to Bad Intentions flies open, and Dare strolls toward us. His fists are clenched, but otherwise, he looks completely calm. Eric doesn’t even see it coming when Dare cocks his fist back and smashes it into the side of Eric’s jaw.

Cordell, Matty, and Alec walk out of Bad Intentions half a second later, ready to jump in at any moment.

Eric falls to the ground, cupping his jaw before spitting out a mouthful of blood. I gasp, covering my mouth. Matty tucks me into his side, moving me out of the way. Eric laughs, getting onto his feet, but Dare charges him again. He bunches his suit between his fists and throws him against the brick wall. I cringe when Eric’s head hits the wall.

“Stop calling her. Stop texting her. Do not fucking touch her. Don’t even look at her, or we’re gonna have problems. You feel me?”

Eric blinks in surprise. “Are you fucking this guy?” he asks sardonically, pointing a finger at Dare. “I thought you were with that tool.” He flicks his chin toward Jake. “But clearly, this one knows my business. Or perhaps you’re fucking both? I wouldn’t put it past you.” He shoves Dare away, but Dare head-butts him, effectively knocking that cocky grin off his face.

Eric swipes a hand underneath his bloody nose, and when he looks like he might fight back, Jake steps forward, along with Matty, Cordell, and Alec—their message clear. Despite the fuckupness of it all, something inside me warms at the fact that these boys who barely know me at all have my back. This is what family feels like, I think.

“Go home, Eric.” I shake my head. “This has gone far enough.” Eric’s a betting man, and he knows his odds aren’t favorable.

“How do you think Cayden is going to feel when he finds out?”

Dare looks at me over his shoulder, questions in his arctic eyes.

“This is on you, Eric. Don’t put this shit on me, and don’t you dare bring Cayden into it,” I say, jabbing a finger in his direction. I don’t wait for a response. Ignoring everyone’s curious stares, I grab my bag off the ground and dart inside Bad Intentions, all but running to the waiting room in the back.

I drop my bag onto the pool table and pace the floor. How did this escalate so quickly? Why did he have to come here? A minute passes before I hear the door open, hitting the wall. My head snaps up to see Dare prowling toward me, the guys right behind him.

“Let’s go.”

“Go?” I ask, confused.

“Come on.” Dare holds out his hand, his eyes angry and pleading at once. I place my hand in his, and he pulls me toward the drawing room. Cord asks if we’re okay, but Dare ignores them, slamming the door behind him before flicking the lock.

“Am I fired?” I don’t think he’d fire me for a hookup gone wrong, but for bringing drama to the workplace might be a solid reason.

“What was that?” he asks, ignoring me, pointing to the closed door. “What the fuck was that?”

“Why are you so mad? I didn’t ask for you to jump in!” His anger seems directed at me, and it throws me off.

“So, was I supposed to stand by and watch while he hurt you?”

“I don’t need to be saved, Dare. I had it handled!”

“Yeah.” Dare gives a humorless laugh. “Sure looked that way.”

“Why are you so upset?” His reaction makes no sense to me. I’m humiliated enough, having had almost every person I know here witness my dirty laundry, and his screaming only makes me feel worse. My eyes sting with embarrassment and frustration and I will myself to get it together.

“That’s the guy who’s been calling you. The ex.” He doesn’t ask. It’s a statement.

“Yes,” I say through clenched teeth.

“What else aren’t you telling me, Lo? What did you leave out? Because something isn’t adding up here.”

I shake my head, turning for the door, but Dare’s palm slaps against it.

“Who’s Cayden?”

I whip around, unable to believe the nerve of him. “And how exactly is any of this your business?”

“Cut the shit and just fill me in.” His voice rises with each word. He’s clearly frustrated.

“What do you want me to say, Dare?” I screech back, throwing my arms in the air. “That I fucked the father of the child I nannied? That I’m a whore? That I was too fucking stupid to see how I was being lied to and manipulated the entire time I worked for him?” The tears fall freely now, and I do nothing to stop them. I hate crying in front of people. Dare stands there, jaw clenched and speechless, as I walk over and collapse onto the couch, dropping my head into my hands.

Dare sits next to me, putting a palm on my back, but I flinch away from his touch. I don’t want his pity.

“Don’t.”

Dare pulls his palm back and I keep my head down, trying to get my emotions under control. A minute passes before I feel him stand, then he’s walking out of the room. I flinch when the door slams behind him before bouncing off the hinges.