Chapter Twelve
“Get out of my apartment!” Adalia sprang into the upright position and shimmied off the couch. She covered herself up and DeShawn stumbled back and forth, eyes marred by a red haze – drugs, obviously.
“You heard her,” Trent growled, but her ex-boyfriend didn’t turn away. “Get out of here.”
“You get outta here, man,” DeShawn slurred then straightened. There was an iron rod between his shoulders, a bar of tension that spelled danger.
Adalia had seen that stance before – she’d witnessed DeShawn beat a guy to a near pulp for saying the wrong thing. He was built like a bulldog, and even more ferocious when he was intoxicated.
“Calm down,” Adalia said, and both men shot her a look of venom. They wanted her to butt out of it, but she wouldn’t let them fight over her. This was
