Page 21 of Falling for the Grumpy Bad Boy

“Let’s go,” Simone said.

But Hwan wasn’t done.

“I know who you are,” Hwan said. “What you are.”

“Fascinating,” I said flatly, not moving toward the limo but not taking the bait either.

“It sounds like your whole family’s got a thing for knives,” he said, grinning like he’d just delivered the punchline to the world’s funniest joke. “Of course, they use theirs for different purposes than we do in the kitchen. Couldn’t cut it in their world, huh? Had to take those knife skills into the kitchen. Sucks to be the black sheep.”

Conroy spat on the asphalt, a gesture of disgust that perfectly captured what we were all feeling.

“Bad press is a two-way street, Hwan,” Simone warned. “I would suggest you carry on your merry way before you say something you can’t take back.”

The smart thing to do was listen to her warning and stumble off to whatever hotel room he booked for his evening’s entertainment. Instead, he doubled down.

“Oh, the ice queen speaks,” he sneered, focusing his bleary attention on Simone. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Didn’t your boyfriend tell you he was trying to get in little Clem’s pants? Playing the white knight when everyone knows he’s the dark knight.”

“Not my boyfriend,” Simone hissed.

Hwan looked her up and down. “But you want him. You want to ride the Mortician.”

That did it.

I was moving before I consciously decided to, my hands already curling into fists as I closed the distance between us. The girls flanking Hwan abandoned him with little shrieks of alarm, but he was too drunk to react quickly enough to get out of my way.

Simone’s hand clamped down on my shoulder with surprising strength, her fingernails digging into my suit jacket hard enough that I felt them through the fabric.

“Stop,” she said. “Right now. Don’t do it.”

“He needs to learn some fucking manners,” I growled, not taking my eyes off Hwan’s suddenly pale face.

“And you can’t teach them to him if you’re behind bars,” she shot back. “Use your head, Rhett. You can’t feed hungry people from a jail cell. This bottom feeder isn’t worth it.”

The words hit me like cold water. She was right, of course. She was always right when it came to keeping me from making decisions I would regret later. One assault charge would unravel everything we had built, everything we all worked for. It would all disappear in a cloud of scandal and legal proceedings.

But God, I wanted to hit him. Wanted to teach him that there were consequences for running his mouth and treating women like disposable entertainment.

My pulse hammered in my temples. Adrenaline flooded my system with the familiar cocktail of violence and rage that had gotten me in trouble more times than I cared to count. The only thing standing between Hwan and a trip to the emergency room was Simone’s grip on my shoulder and the knowledge that she was absolutely right about the consequences.

Slowly, I unclenched my fists and took a step back.

Hwan seemed to realize how close he had come to making a very serious mistake. Some of the drunken bravado drained out of his face, replaced by the dawning awareness that he just poked a bear with a stick.

“That’s what I thought,” he mumbled, but his heart wasn’t in it anymore.

“Get the fuck out of here,” I said quietly. “Before I change my mind about listening to good advice.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He gathered up his companions and disappeared into the night.

“Feel better?” Simone asked dryly, finally releasing her death grip on my shoulder.

“Not particularly,” I admitted, the adrenaline crash leaving me feeling drained and irritated.

“You can’t beat up everyone that says stupid stuff.”

“I don’t see why not.”

Conroy grinned and climbed into the limo. Simone got in next. I made sure Hwan was really gone before I slid into the seat.