turn and walk away with her head held high.
If that bitch was my mother I would tell her exactly where to go and even buy her a fucking express ticket to get her there faster.
“What in the hell was that?” I mutter to myself as I continue to stare at Layla down on stage. She looks nothing like the diva with an attitude I witnessed earlier and everything like a puppy that was just kicked in the teeth.
“Shocking, isn’t it?”
The quiet voice directly behind me has me tensing my shoulders and spinning around in a protective stance with my fists clenched at my side calculating the threat and waiting to strike.
“Whoa, easy there, rough rider. It’s just me,” Finn says with a smile, his hands held up in the air like I have a gun pointed at him. He’s lucky it’s down in my ankle holster or I would have already had it pressed underneath his chin, threatening his pretty face.
I relax and tip my head in Layla’s general direction. “So, is that the norm around here? Eve smacking the shit out of Layla with her words and Layla just taking it?” I ask.
Finn shrugs and slides his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “That? Oh, that wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg. Eve is actually in a good mood today.”
I shake my head in confusion. If that was Eve on a good day, how the fuck does she act on a bad one?
“Why the hell doesn’t Layla tell her where to stick it? This is her career, her life.”
Finn laughs but it’s not meant to be a cheerful one. It’s a laugh filled with disdain and irritation.
“You would think, wouldn’t you? Layla is the star. She’s the one bringing all the money in and has people falling all over themselves to make her happy. One would naturally assume that she’s the one who makes all the decisions, Chief Marshall,” Finn says with a raise of an eyebrow.
“I’m not with the Navy anymore. It’s just Brady.”
Finn cocks his head at me, a pensive look on his face as he holds his chin in between his thumb and forefinger and furrows his brow.
“Oh, my bad. I just assumed once a SEAL, always a SEAL. The kind of person who shoots first and asks questions later, someone who follows orders no matter who gives them and never thinks for himself. You know, someone who makes snap judgments about a person before they really know anything about them.”
I want to be mad. I really do. I want to punch the smug look off of Finn’s face, but I can’t because he just described me to a T. I can’t even pretend to be offended. Not twenty minutes earlier, in the text I sent to Gwen, I called Layla a “self-centered attention whore.” “You know what happens when you assume, Brady,” Finn adds with a smile.
“Alright, you made your point,” I concede.
“Judge not, lest ye be judged.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Seriously. Shut the fuck up. I get it. Stop talking in idioms. There’s more to her than meets the eye. Understood.”
A banging noise breaks into our conversation, and we move so we can see the stage. The mic stand that previously stood front and center is now rolling in a giant circle at the far end, and Layla stares after it, her hands on her hips and her chest heaving with what I assume is the remainder of the energy she used to angrily chuck it in that direction.
“I better go check on her,” Finn says quietly, his voice filled with concern as he starts to walk down the aisle behind me.
“You’re her friend. Why haven’t you done something to stop this?” I ask, my words making him stop in his tracks.
“What makes you think I haven’t?” he replies with his back to me.
I watch as he walks out of the row and makes his way down the center aisle to the stage. After a few minutes, making sure he gets to Layla before I go, I head the same way he does, but instead of turning left to the stage, I make a right and head out of the arena.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I and dial Gwen. “Hey, change of plans. Put Finn Michaelson’s background check on the back burner. Focus on Eve Carlysle. Get me everything you can ASAP.”
“You really need to find another hobby. This waking up at the ass crack