The Hurricane by Nicole Hart Page B

pussy to hurt, right fucking now.
    “Ryker, stop!” I heard a roar behind me. Fucking Cain. His voice causing me to still. This was his restaurant, his opening. I couldn’t ruin it for him. I stopped fighting them. I had to get a fucking grip.
    Johnson was backing up toward the door, his bodyguards in front of him. He was smiling, but there was fear in his eyes. I saw it. I knew that look; he couldn’t hide it from me. He started shadow boxing, swinging at the air.
    “Fuck you, Johnson!” I yelled as he walked through the exit.
    Cain’s bouncers finally loosed their grip on me. My fists were still clenched, anger still flowing.
    “Calm down, Ryker,” Cain said without a hint of emotion. I envied that about him. So much control.
    “Save it for the ring,” he said quietly, standing close to me.
    Save it for the ring.
    “You fucking set me up!” I screamed at Cain, the next second my fist was connecting with his cheek.
    “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I heard a groan behind me as both of the bouncers wrapped their big ass arms around me, trying to confine me.
    Cain remained calm as he rolled his sleeve up, wiping the blood from his busted lip. He stepped closer to me, my arms jerking, wanting these fuckers to get their hands off me.
    “You set me up,” I seethed, through gritted teeth.
    “Brother, if you would just fight, you could shut him up once and for all,” he whispered, nose to nose with me.
    “Not your fucking call,” I said, my body trembling with fucking anger.
    “Get some air, bro,” Cain said as he swept his tongue over the blood gathering at the corner of his mouth.
    “Get him out of here,” Cain told the bouncers, who immediately started to escort me out of the building.
    “I’m leaving, get your fucking hands off me,” I said, not that it did any good.
    “Sir, we have to do as Mr. Hamilton says,” The bouncer on the left said quietly.
    Natalie. Natalie. Fuck. I looked over my shoulder but didn’t see her. The door swung open and the bouncers took their hands off of me as soon as I felt the night air. They returned, back inside the building, without looking back in my direction.
    “Son of a bitch!” I yelled, my fist swinging in the air.
    “Ryker,” I heard her voice as the door flew open once again.
    “Ryker,” she repeated as she walked toward me, but didn’t get too close.
    My eyes met hers and I saw fear. Fuck. I didn’t want her to be scared.
    “Give me just a second, Nat. Please,” I said, as calm as I could muster, and turned my back to her. I put my hands on my knees and tried to control my breathing. I had to get a fucking grip. I stood up straight, putting my hands behind my head.
    Breathe in. Breathe out.
    I felt her hand softly touch my back.
    “Are you ok?” she said, quietly.
    I couldn’t answer right away. But her touch soothed me. I felt the anger start to flow out of me, just from her presence. She was the calm to my storm. A second later, I noticed my truck pulling up beside us. A different young kid hopped out of the driver’s side and walked around to me, with my keys jingling.
    “Mr. Hamilton, I was told to bring your truck around,” he said nervously, and held the keys out in front of his body, at a safe distance.
    “Thank you,” Natalie said, and took the keys out of his hand.
    “Do you want me to drive?” she asked as she looked up at me.
    “I’m ok,” I said quietly, feeling guilty for scaring her.
    “Are you sure?” she whispered.
    “I’m sure,” I said as I walked to the passenger’s side, but unable to make eye contact with her, and opened the door for her.
    The calm to my storm.
    Who calms a fucking hurricane? Natalie Taylor, that’s who.
     

 
    Ryker’s Blend
     
     

    I didn’t want to stare at him, I tried to keep from it, but I couldn’t help it. I had never seen anything like that. He scared the hell out of me, if I was being honest. The look on his face right before he flipped the table was scary. I screamed his name but he