Dirty Sexy Alphas (Twenty Book Box Set) - Hannah Ford Page 0,133

your mouth, Colt, or I’ll kick you out on your ass faster than you can say ‘fuck you.’”

I frowned. I didn’t get it. Why was Mick saying he was going to kick Colt out on his ass? How could he when Colt was the owner of the club? Of course, no one had actually told me he was the owner of Loose Cannons, I’d just assumed it from the way he carried himself, and because of that fact that he was in charge of hiring. But maybe I had it wrong.

I waited for Colt to fire back at him, wondering what I should do if it became clear they were really fighting. Should I go in there and break it up? Or just let them fight it out?

But I didn’t have to worry about that, because a second later, a man came barreling out of the room and into the hallway. Mick. He was wearing a blue and black flannel shirt over a pair of stone washed jeans. There were work boots on his feet and he stomped by me down the hall.

I held my breath and waited for him to ask me what the hell I was doing there, but he didn’t even look at me. He just pushed by me, his weathered face crinkled into annoyance.

I let out the breath I was holding and peeked into the room Mick had just left.

Colt was standing there, his hands gripping the edge of a huge desk, his head lowered. “Fuck,” he swore under his breath. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He stood up and slammed his fist down on the desk. Once. Twice. Three times.

“Wow,” I said, leaning against the door frame. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

He looked up, his eyes blazing, ready to get in a fight with the first person he saw. That’s how angry he was. I recognized it because I’d had that kind of anger inside of me before. But instead of expressing it the way Colt was doing, I pushed it down as far as I could, until I couldn’t control it anymore. And then I would cut myself.

You could argue that Colt’s way of dealing with his emotions was healthier, that at least he was trying to release them. But I knew better – you didn’t get that angry in the first place unless there was something unhealthy going on in your life. Out-of-balance emotions were the product of an out-of-balance life.

You’d think that since I knew that, I should be able to fix the things that were making me feel that kind of pain. But it was one thing to understand why you had anger, or felt the need to cut yourself. It was quite another to try and fix whatever it was that was causing it.

“What are you doing here?” Colt said when he realized it was me. “I told you to stay in the car.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not good at following directions”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Colt said. “Go back to the car, Olivia.” I didn’t like the way he said my name this time, like he was in charge of me, like I needed to be scolded.

“No,” I said. “Not until you give me back my purse.”

“I’m not letting–” he started. But then he shook his head. “Fine,” he said. “You want your bag? Here.” He reached over and picked my purse up from where it was sitting on the windowsill. “Here you go. Now you’re free to go back to the shelter, take the city bus, sleep on the streets, whatever it is you’re determined to do.”

“Thanks,” I said, reaching out to take it from him. Our fingertips brushed, and I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination or not, but I felt like he hung onto my bag for a beat longer than was necessary, like he wanted me to stay.

Our eyes met, and my breath hitched. For the first time, I saw something beneath the surface in him – hurt. I thought about his anger just now, how he pounded the desk like he did, how that man Mick was yelling at him, and I wondered if there was more to Colt than I’d first thought.

Maybe he wasn’t just a rich skeezy guy who ran a strip club and got everything handed to him.

And then, just like that, his eyes hardened again. The hurt was gone, but now it was replaced by something else, something intangible. Regret? It was odd, but I had the feeling he