I frown a little, looking Jackson over, wondering what his plans are. I mean, he’s dressed – he’s got a coat. If he was just going back to his room, he’d be in pajamas, wouldn’t he?
“I’m going to go watch the fight in a bar,” he says, nodding to me. “Actually, the one I used to work at – I’m going with the guys I used to live with, those three months I lived here.”
“The rough boys?”
He grins at me. “Yes, the rough boys,” he says, a little laugh in his words. He leans forward, conspiratorial. “Don’t worry, Ariel, I can take them.”
I frown a little, narrowing my eyes. “And they’re taking you to the restaurant you used to work at? With the waitresses?”
Jackson bursts out laughing now, but a vicious little snarl slips from between my teeth.
Because I do not like that. I do not like that
