Grayson came back from the booth, running a hand through his hair. His shirt was a little rumpled, his sleeves shoved up, and he was zipping his trousers without much hurry.
Connor stood at the end of the bar like it was his personal lounge, clocked it instantly. He didn't work the floor — never did — but somehow he was always exactly washere he shouldn't be. He had one arm resting on the counter, a half-finished beer in front of him, and that perpetual smirk ready to fire.
"You might wanna be careful with that," Connor said, nodding toward Grayson's hands, voice pitched low enough for just the two of them. "Wouldn't want to tuck it away before Kane's finished with it."
Grayson didn't give him the satisfaction of a pause. He just moved behind the bar, flipping a towel over his shoulder. "Do you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?"
"Not when I'm right." Connor's smirk twitched wider as he took a slow pull from his beer.
Tessa drifted over from the other side, an order pad in hand, her gaze flicking between them like she'd walked in on the tail end of a conversation she wanted in on.
"Gray, you know that girl who came in the other day," she said. "Tall, blonde, carrying a pharmacy bag. Who was she in the end?"
Grayson reached for the gin, keeping his voice even. "A friend."
"Friend-friend, or…?" Tessa asked, one eyebrow raised.
"Roommate," he corrected.
"She looked tense," she said, tone a mix of curiosity and mild concern.
"She probably had a long night," Grayson muttered, already reaching for the shaker. "She's a dancer."
Connor didn't miss a beat. "Correction — was a dancer."
"…What?"
Connor, who'd been listening with lazy interest, leaned forward on his elbows. "She was working somewhere that didn't suit her," Connor said with a shrug. "I took care of it."
The words landed like a hook in Grayson's spine. He stilled, the gin bottle suspended mid-pour. "…What does that mean?"
Connor's smirk went slow and deliberate, the kind of look that made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing. "Means I made a call. Your little roommate doesn't work at that dump anymore."
Grayson set the bottle down a little too hard. "You what?"
"I told you, she was wasting herself there," Connor said, his tone maddeningly calm. "Bad lighting, bad money, worse men. I did her a favour."
"That's not your call to make," Grayson said sharply, heat edging his voice.
Tessa glanced between them, eyebrows raised. "Do I need to leave before you two start throwing punches?"
Connor just shrugged, unbothered. "It's exactly my call to make. Because now she's available." He took a slow sip of beer, letting the pause stretch. "And guess who's got an opening here?"
Grayson's jaw tightened. "She's not working here."
Connor didn't blink. "That's cute. But if I decide I want her here, she's here. And if she's not…" He let the pause hang, his smirk widening. "I'll take her somewhere else. Somewhere she'll be mine."
Grayson leaned on the bar, voice low and dangerous now. "You can't just mess with people's lives like that."
Connor tilted his head, almost like he was amused at the outrage. "Isn't that exactly what Kane's doing to you? Pulling you out of one life and planting you in his?"
The words lodged in Grayson's chest like a splinter. He wanted to argue, but Connor's eyes said he already knew the answer, and he enjoyed it.
Connor took another drink, slow and satisfied. "Difference is," he added, "I don't pretend it's not personal."
****************
Grayson found Holly in the living room when he got home. The apartment lights were off, the only glow coming from the thin blue glare of her laptop. Her fingers moved over the trackpad without much purpose, click, scroll, close. Click, scroll, close. She didn't even seem to be reading the listings anymore, just going through the motions.
He leaned on the doorframe for a moment, taking in the set of her shoulders. Tense, but tired. "You're still up?"
Her eyes stayed on the screen. "Apparently unemployment doesn't come with a bedtime." The humour was there in the words, but her tone was bone-dry, stripped of anything resembling a joke.
He crossed the room, glancing at the page she was on. Job boards. A mix of retail, service work, and bottom-tier clubs advertising "fast cash" and "flexible hours." The kind of places that took more from you than they gave back.
"Any luck?" He asked, already knowing the answer.
She huffed, the sound small. "Not unless I want to sling drinks in some dive or sell data plans in a strip mall. No one's hiring dancers right now unless you're willing to work the kind of rooms where you need to watch your drink more than the customers do."
Grayson hesitated, feeling the weight of what he was about to drop on her. "You're not gonna like what I have to say."
Her gaze flicked up, sharp. "What is it?"
He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Connor's the reason you got fired."
It landed like a stone between them. For a second, she just stared, brow pulling together like she wasn't sure she'd heard him right. "What do you mean, Connor's the reason?"
"He made a call," Grayson said. "However he does his thing. Either way, he made it happen."
Her expression tightened, the first thread of anger pulling through. "And you're telling me this now?"
"I didn't know until today," he said, careful. "But yeah. It was him."
A humourless laugh slipped out of her. "Why the hell would he—" She cut herself off, realization settling in like a shadow. "Because he wants me at Elysium."
He didn't answer. He didn't have to.
She sat back against the couch, arms crossing over her chest, like she needed something to keep her steady. "I hate to even ask, but… are they hiring?"
The word was out of his mouth before she'd even finished. "No."
"Grayson—"
"No," he said again, sharper.
Her jaw set. "I don't have a lot of options here. Rent will be due. My savings aren't exactly thriving."
He shifted his weight, exhaling through his nose. "One of their dancers is pregnant, yeah. So there's a spot. But it's not for you."
Her brows rose, disbelief cutting through her frustration. "Why? Because of Kane?"
"Yes. Because of Kane. Because I know exactly what he's like and I'm not letting you anywhere near him."
She laughed again — short, sharp. "You're not letting me? That's cute."
"I mean it, Holly." He stepped forward, lowering his voice. "You were right about that place. About what it does to people, and I don't want you to be a part of that."
Her gaze didn't waver. "I don't see another choice."
"There's always a choice," he shot back.
She shook her head. "Not when someone like Connor decides otherwise. If he's got the pull to get me fired, then maybe the fastest way to get out from under him is to take the job, make my money, and get out."
"That's not how it works," he said, voice low. "Nobody gets out clean. I know that now."
The silence between them stretched, heavy and unmoving.
Finally, he broke it. "I swore I'd keep you out of Elysium. Away from Kane."
"And I swore I wouldn't end up broke," she said, her voice quieter now but no less firm. "Looks like we're both about to break something."