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“Well, polls aren’t a bad thing,” Sloane said, leaning forward to look at Dahlia. “It certainly clarifies everyone’s opinions.”
“Sloane,” Trey warned.
Rogue sidled up next to him with his glare aimed at Sloane. “Mine is the only one you should give a shit about right now. Get the fuck out!”
Sloane arched her neck. “Okay, if that’s what you all want.”
“I’m gonna fucking kill her,” Rogue said under his breath, but Trey heard. At this moment, he wasn’t fully opposed to the idea.
“I’m fine, Sloane,” Dahlia whispered. From where Trey was standing, her hair fell forward, shielding her face. But he could see Sloane’s reaction. Her mouth fell open. She rushed past Nash.
“Oh my God, what happened?”
“Dahlia.” Trey’s voice was firm and commanding. This would be handled by him.
She hesitated but finally looked over. Trey gave a subtle shake, and Dahlia looked back at Sloane, smiling awkwardly.
“A little altercation with my ex-roommate. I’m fine.”
Trey waved her toward the door. “Sloane, you can leave.”
“Can I just…”
“No!” Trey snapped, hardening his gaze. It would’ve deterred most people. Not Sloane Baxter. She leaned past Trey, addressing Dahlia.
“Have you called East?”
Rogue lunged closer. “Why the fuck would she call East?”
Sloane’s eyes widened.
“Do you see a property patch on her ass? No, you fucking don’t. We will handle this shit, and if I find out you told East, I’m gonna fucking fire you.” Rogue paused, and Sloane parted her lips, but he gave her no time. “And no, you can’t fucking ask one more thing!”
“Actually…” Dahlia cleared her throat. “I left a message for Grain, but he’s on a run.”
What the… Before Trey could question her, Rogue jumped in.
“Why the fuck would you do that, and we don’t fucking know about this?” He shouted, but in true Rogue fashion, he didn’t wait for a response. He pulled his phone from his chest pocket and stormed out of the room, forcing Sloane out of the room in his wake. Rogue may have been done, but Trey wasn’t.
“Why would you call East?” Trey walked back over, taking a seat on the table directly in front of her. They were so close his knees bumped against hers.
“I don’t want them coming back.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” Trey ground his teeth.
Dahlia pressed back against the cushion and widened her eyes, whispering, “It didn’t happen during work hours. And calling you would have only brought attention to—” Dahlia paused, glancing over her shoulder then leaning closer and lowering her voice. “—us.”
Trey jerked his head, scowling. It was unfair to her, even he recognized it. Dahlia was following the rules he’d set in place. Somehow, they didn’t sit right with him.
She bit her lip and shrugged, glancing down at the floor. He had no one to blame but himself. Fuck! Trey clinched his teeth and cupped his mouth.
“Trey?” Dahlia leaned closer, and he followed her lead. “They stole my credit cards and the money I had in my wallet.”
Motherfuckers!
Dahlia cleared her throat. “And there’s something else. Dave, Belinda’s boyfriend, came back because they had drugs in the house. He said he left some behind, hidden as his insurance in case I called the cops. I can’t have anyone find drugs in my house, Trey.”
I know. During his background check of Dahlia, he’d discovered her police record. It was a small infraction, and he’d read the reports. It wasn’t a concern for him or Dahlia working at the club. That would’ve been hypocrisy at its finest. However, this had the potential to become a bigger problem for her.
