Bad Habits

Chapter 29

Hakuna Matata *It means no worries for the rest of your days.*

The door to the room bursts open and slams against the walls in my rush to get away from the two Italian men behind me who are screaming curse words left and right. I stumble through them and crash to the floor, my feet sliding from being wet, thanks to the mop bucket back in the supply closest that had soaked me.

"Mother of all things holy." I hiss as my knees hit the wooden floor with harsh impact that has me gasping from the pain.

I slowly peer up at my surroundings when I can breathe properly again and the pain from my knees subsides, while awkwardly trying to stand up on shaky legs like a baby deer standing for the first time.

It seems to be a meeting room, hidden behind all of the hustle and bustle of the front restaurant and away from prying eyes, like mine. Everything's dark wood and rich leather, with low lighting dashed here and there from small circular lights above our heads. A small bar is opposite the large oak table where a few men sit and scrutinise me in expensive suits.

Nearly all of them look angry and pissed at my sudden arrival. My eyes flick over all of their faces until I land at the head of the table.

Max sits there with those sunglasses on his face, just like the last time I seen him with Maddox. I can't tell what he feels about me being here, his face is carefully masked, partially because of the sunglasses and also because he seems to be the type of guy who doesn't necessarily like to show his feelings.

"There she is!" Someone shouts out behind me, then the sound of  their footsteps thumping against the floor can be heard as they run towards me.

All the men sitting at the table incline their heads to the direction of the two guards I just took down with a can of air freshener. Some of them look relieved at the fact I'm going to be hauled out of here, others look slightly intrigued over what must of happened a few minutes ago, i'm sure they must of heard them screaming when I sprayed them. Max lifts an eye brow, it raises up above the edging of the black glasses and his lips twitch as he fights off a smirk. His posture shifts and he rests his suited arm on top of the leather chairs arm, his head falls into his hand and the smirk finally breaks through his cool demeanour as he tilts his head to the side and watches the men behind me with mild amusement.

I feel the presence of one of them behind my back, his hot breath pants against my neck and the smell of lemons and musky cologne enters my nostrils.

"Little bitch." He hisses angrily as his hand clamps against the back of my arm and spins me around so that I'm facing him. My lip curls at the comment and my eyes slip from his angered red splotchy brown orbs and down to the metal item glinting from his belt as his suit jacket brushes upwards from the hold he has on my arm.

While his attention has shifted towards his friend behind him who's talking rapidly in Italian, hands gesturing towards me angrily before pointing behind him and to where I just attacked them, while one hand cups his manhood, I slip my free hand forwards and grab the knife that's kept in his belt.

My fingers curl around the familiar weapon and I slip it up my sleeve as the man glances away from his friend and back towards me.

His fingers dig into my arm even more and i mask the pain from it with a sly smile, he snarls down at me as the guys rapid Italian starts to slow down. The only sound is from his words and the clinking of glasses from the barman to the side of us who's cleaning glasses and ignoring the commotion of me being held against my will.