To Die For - Davidson King Page 0,42

asked why Dorian Birch was allowed to return to my club. But I’m hoping that if something is going on, you can help him. Reach him.”

“Tell me.”

He gave me a curt nod. “Dorian is the landlord of both his apartment complex and his dance studio. Since he was banned from here, it looks like Dorian has been giving him a hard time. He asked if I’d release the ban, and he hopes it’ll get Dorian to leave him be.”

I knew a lot of this, and suspected the harassment, but for Sparkles to fold even a little, it had to be worse than I thought. “What did you say?”

“I told him I was having a hard time with this. I said what Dorian did would never stand for anyone, and if I lifted the ban it might give off the wrong message.”

That sounded like the Atlas I knew. “How’d he take it?”

“Not well. He begged me, Max. Said I had to, that it wasn’t just about him, and if I didn’t do it he was worried about people close to him.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “And?”

“Max, I don’t know what’s going on, but I told Sparkles I’d lift it but that if the guy caused any other issues, it would never be removed again.”

“You broke your own rules?”

“Max,” he sighed, folded his hands over the top of his desk and regarded me. “You need to go talk to him. Sparkles is like family here, and something is going on with him. I don’t think he’ll tell me, and I suspect he told me more than he even wanted to. So, go to him.”

“Now?”

“Yeah, now. I suspect he’s dealing with a lot. So much, it’s coming at him from all directions. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring for him.” He stood. “We got the bar covered tonight. Go on.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

I went out and told Shane I had to go; he didn’t ask, and I knew he understood it was Sparkles related. I grabbed my jacket and left. It was such a cold night that even with my jacket, helmet, and gloves, I felt it biting through the material.

By the time I pulled up to Sparkles’s apartment building, my skin wasn’t feeling the chill—no, it was on fire. I wasn’t leaving without answers.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Lane

I was curled up on my couch, Tank nuzzled beside me, with a bowl of ice cream and the movie Sweet Home Alabama playing, when the buzzer went off.

“Ugh!” I reached for my cell phone, which was connected to the intercom system. “Yeah?”

“Sparkles, it’s me Max. Let me up.”

Fucking hell. You needed a code to get into the building or someone to let you up, which was one thing I loved about this place. Max probably had the code Kirt gave him that night, but he was also too much of a gentleman to just use it. However, I had a feeling if I didn’t let him up, he’d have no problem utilizing it.

“Fine.” I buzzed him in and then waited. I ate my ice cream, watched Reese Witherspoon being fabulous, and in a matter of minutes, there was a pounding on my door. Tank lifted his head.

“It’s Max,” I said to him as I placed my bowl on the table, scooped him in my arms, and went to answer the door.

The door wasn’t even open halfway when he was storming in, his eyes scanning the place—looking for what, I had no idea. He turned on me, and the expression on his face was a mixture of relief, anger, worry, and need.

“Are you alone?” he asked, and I nodded. “We need to talk.”

I knew when I left Atlas’s office that there was no way he wasn’t going to speak to Max. I did, however, hope I’d have until the next day before being confronted.

“Fine.” I walked past him and flopped onto the couch, Tank cuddled on my lap. “Have a seat, and say what you came here to say.”

“What part of ‘We need to talk’ indicated that I came here to lecture you?” He wasn’t sitting, just brooding a few feet from my couch.

“Well, if you’ll begin, I’ll know why you’ve intruded on my peaceful alone time.”

He looked over at my table, the TV, and then over to me. “You aren’t sleeping and is that…” he lifted the spoon and sniffed. “Chocolate ice cream?”

“You have something against chocolate? Because if you do, this—whatever it is between us—is over.”

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t give a shit about