His fingers pressed in harder as he steered me toward the exit. I kept smiling, but I knew what that pressure in my skin meant:
I was going to pay for that snark.
I still don’t know why the country club even has a room like the one he took me to. It was like someone’s rich grandmother’s bedroom, minus the bed. A tall bureau stood in one corner, a desk along one wall, heavy crimson drapes obscuring the windows. The air was stuffy and reeked of furniture polish. A thick rug underfoot had been vacuumed flawlessly.
I had about half a second to register those things before Raymond was on me.
He turned that claw onto my throat and slammed me up against a bare stretch of wall. “Have you lost your f*****g mind?” he hissed in my face. “Embarrassing me like that?”
“Embarrassing you?” I rasped.
