Page 126
Emcee raised a hand. “Hey, man. Hi. How’s it goin—” He had started for me.
I glanced once at Nimrod, who abruptly straightened, alarmed and immediately pushed his way back through the crowd. Before Emcee could get any closer, I asked, “What did you tell Roger about my girl?”
Emcee visibly swallowed. “Uh. Um…”
Roger’s head inclined. “He said you were sharing a girl.” He shuffled closer, bending toward me and lowering his voice. “I don’t think you really want to hash this out—” He choked off the rest of his words, because my hand was around his throat.
And I squeezed.
And squeezed.
He began struggling, hitting at my hand, and kicking.
I picked him up and walked him backward until I was holding him against the nearest wall. With one hand. And I was still squeezing.
He was starting to lose color. “Dude—” he rasped out.
I allowed the minimal space for air to get through for him. I didn’t want to kill him. Not in front of witnesses. “I’m sharing a girl?”
“That’s—” wheeze, “what,” wheeze, “he said!”
There was another commotion from the group around us. I ignored them, leaning closer to Roger. “I’m going to make this very clear because I don’t like the tone I heard from you. I’m not sharing anyone. I have a girlfriend. She’s dating two of us. That’s it.”
“Yeah.” Another cough. Wheeze. “You’re sharing her.”
My vision flashed to black.
I wanted to kill this mother fucker.
Really. Truly.
I squeezed the last little bit, covering it so he couldn’t get any air.
He began to struggle, and I waited.
He began to thrash around. Violently.
“Jesus!” Hands ripped me backward and off him.
I ignored those hands because I knew who they were. Cassian’s.
Roger fell to the ground, bent over and dry heaving to get air into his lungs. I stared at him, coldly, as Cassian was trying to move me backward. “If you ever fucking disrespect my girlfriend again, I’ll make you disappear.”
Roger looked up, paling, as he met my gaze. Terror flared in his eyes, briefly. He knew I meant it. A second later, Nimrod shoved his way through the crowd, coming to stand between us. He slapped a hand on Roger’s back and raised the other one in the air. “Nothing to see here! Who wants shots? Do we have a DJ? I think we need a DJ. Let’s get some ‘Sweet Caroline’ playing.”
Cassian shot Nimrod a look. “Neil Diamond?”
Nimrod was tense, but he clapped Cassian on the shoulder with that free hand. “It’s the song, Ripp. It plays and people sing. No matter what. People stop whatever they’re doing and they sing. It’s like a universal law of newton.”
“Newton’s Law?”
“Yeah.” Nimrod snapped his fingers at Cassian. “That.”
“’Sweet Caroline’ is a Newton’s Law?”
“Exactly.”
Whoever was in charge of music got the request and the song changed. It took one bar, but attention shifted and people started to sing when the first words came through the speakers.
