“You okay?”

Absolutely not.

Time has a new meaning. Each second feels like eons, and when Emmett finally walks into the bar, I feel like I might pass out.

Just as I suspected, his entrance is quite the ordeal. I swear the volume of the music dips slightly. Gravity bends in his direction. He has us all ensnared as he stands near the door, scanning the room. It’s an eerie thing to watch a predator at work, to endure the gut-clenching fear of knowing you’re the one they’re seeking. I force down a hard swallow and wet my lips.

He’s wearing what I now realize is his signature look: black suit; black button-up shirt, unbuttoned at the neck; silver watch glinting on his wrist. Inky dark hair and a harsh glare. The devil called—he wants his wardrobe back.

When he finally spots me, Collette’s leaning in to tell me something, talking right against the shell of my ear so I can hear her over the music, but it’s no use. I’m not listening. Emmett has my attention.

My stomach twists as he takes his first step in my direction. He doesn’t waver in his pursuit, even as people try to talk to him.

He has a face like thunder as he watches Heath put his arm around the back of the booth, skimming his fingers along my bare shoulder.

It’s intentional, I know. Heath sees Emmett walking toward us. He hears the chorus of greetings.

“Emmett!”

“Emmett, you made it!”

“Pull up a chair. Or, here, we can all scoot in.”

Heath doesn’t move his hand, but he does lean over the table just as Emmett arrives at our booth, ensuring Emmett can hear his goading tone.

“Nice of you to show…I’ve been keeping your fiancée company.”

Emmett doesn’t even look at him. His dark gaze captures mine.

Pissed is an understatement.

He holds up his hand, waving his pointer finger and middle finger in a universal gesture for, Come here.

I don’t move.

I’m not sure he understands what’s going on, but I know he got my note. I’ve called it off. You’re free. I don’t belong to him. He can’t beckon me like a dog.

But even if I’m willing to stand my ground, the others aren’t. These are Emmett’s loyal subjects, after all. The people to the left of me start scooting out of the booth, clearing the way for me, Collette included. How annoyingly helpful of them. I give Emmett a dirty look and start to slide out. Everyone watches me. I’m surprised no one throws out teasing barbs. It feels like my daddy has come to collect me from a party, like I’m about to be dragged home and grounded for weeks.

I slip out of the booth, stand, and straighten my regrettably short dress. Nerves threaten to win out. The urge to keep my gaze on the ground, to bow my shoulders and shy away from this confrontation is strong, but I’ve always been a wallflower. Tonight is a chance to be bold for once. So, rather than brushing past Emmett with my face half-hidden behind my long hair, I walk right up to him, meeting his surly expression with a menacing one of my own.