Page 111 of Touch of Hate
As if he hears me, he slows his progress on his way past. “And how is everything? How’s that salmon treating you?” he asks her, wearing a smile that makes me wonder how he’d look with all of his teeth knocked out.
I rap my knuckles against the table. “Don’t you have a job to do? Why don’t you go someplace else and do it?”
He has the nerve to widen his eyes like he’s shocked when he finally looks my way—yeah, dickhead, I’m sitting here, too—before sputtering, “I’m sorry, sir, I was only—”
“Keep moving unless you want me to talk to your manager.”
He wastes no time scurrying away like the rodent he is, leaving Scarlet staring at me, her cheeks flushed.
I won’t pretend to be sorry, no matter how embarrassed she is. “What? I’m supposed to sit here and let him hit on you without saying anything?”
“He wasn’t,” she whispers. “He was only doing his job. That’s what servers do. Ask how your food is, and see if you need drink refills.”
“They don’t need to stare down a guest’s dress while they’re doing it.” She adjusts the top of her dress, eyes shifting back and forth almost guiltily as she arranges her blond waves over her shoulders. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was trying to flirt with him.
But I do know better. This is Scarlet. She would never betray me.
“You’ve betrayed your family.” Rebecca’s soft voice slithers its way up my spine from across the span of years. “You’ve betrayed Joseph. Christian informed me you’ve refused to fall in line. What must we do before you’ll stop with this defiance?”
“Ren?”
My gaze snaps from the window and back to her. “What?”
She says nothing, merely lowering her gaze until she’s staring at the steak knife clutched tight in my fist. I guess I’d be nervous, too, if a knife was pointed at me. I loosen my grip, eventually lowering it to the plate.
The steak is probably cold by now, anyway.
Rebecca isn’t here. None of them are. You’re destroying everything.
“Maybe we should see about getting dessert in the room. What do you think?” I’m losing my grip here. And she sees it, making everything exponentially worse. I’m not sure if I’m more concerned with hurting her or with her getting cold feet at the last minute. Both, I suppose.
The fact is, I could always make it up to her later if she’s upset. We have the rest of our lives for that. On the other hand, I doubt we’ll ever get another chance to successfully infiltrate New Haven.
Maybe if her father had done the job correctly, we wouldn’t be here at all. Maybe if he had truly gotten rid of Rebecca.
That isn’t her fault.
I can’t take it out on Scarlet.
“I think that sounds like a good idea,” she murmurs and immediately starts looking around.
Heat flares in my gut, and my fists clench.
Looking for her little boyfriend?
I shake the thought away. I need to stop this. What the fuck is happening to me? I can normally keep a lid on my temper for her sake—mostly—but now, so close to New Haven, so close to the most dangerous phase yet, all bets are off.
“We’ll go to the hostess and let her know we need our check.” I push back from the table and take her by the arm, pulling her along with me. She winces, and I loosen my hold. Fuck. “I’m not waiting around for that asshole to hit on you again.”
“He wasn’t.” I pretend not to hear that. I’m afraid if I wait, if I have to interact with him again, I might do something she’ll hate me for. The idea only heightens the rage threatening to eat its way through me.
A few couples are waiting for tables when we reach the stand near the entrance. The girl looks up at me, wearing a bright smile that quickly fades when she finds me scowling.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” she chirps.
“Yes. You can locate our server and our check since he wasn’t able to keep from flirting with my girlfriend long enough to do his job. We haven’t finished our meal yet, but I couldn’t stand sitting there a second longer.”
Her mouth falls open, and somewhere under the bass drum of my heartbeat, I hear Scarlet’s dismayed groan.