No fucking way. Is that…
It is. I’d recognize that motherfucker anywhere with his shark eyes and smarmy grin. Two million people in the metro area alone and this douche shows up at my girl’s table tonight. And even more intriguing is that he and Brett don’t seem to know each other. Yet…
She and her friends wonder if Wells sent her the drink. And when I see him move it away from her, I want to tear his fucking arms off and drink his blood. It’s bad enough I have to watch her willingly interact with the one who’s already a thorn in my side, now this asshole shows up just to test my patience.
Brett wouldn’t stand within 50 feet of him if she knew who he really is. Not to mention he’s not her type at all. He’s too…clean. It sounds weird, but she likes some grit with her cologne and fabric softener. I know how her mind works. She turns and says something to him and, after a few minutes, I know exactly what she’s doing. It would be smart, if I wasn’t already onto her.
Brett starts to relax the longer Wells stays, but he’s not much of a deterrent. It’s subtle, but I see the way she recoils when he touches her arm. Not only does she have good intuition, but she’s a good girl. She’s a loyal girl.
At least she will be to me after all of this is over.
Tonight, she’ll put up with some discomfort for a while if it makes her feel safer. But I also know she likes the taste of being a bad girl. She likes the order, the routine, and the lack of complication, but sometimes she gets an itch. It’s why she loves me, and it’s why she’ll never get me out of her head. She’ll try to make the best out of her arrangement with him, so I’ll cut her some slack for throwing some smiles at this idiot.
It’s girls’ night, after all.
I watch them from the edge of the room, blending into the wallpaper. Places like this look hilarious when all the lights come on at the end of the night, like a film set for The Addams Family. All the colors and design have to look over the top in the daylight so it looks sultry and moody when the lights go down.
Soon, she and Wells stand up and walk to the bar. They’ll be there for a while. He stands behind her patiently while they wait, but after a minute he puts his arm around her and says something in her ear. She turns to respond, but doesn’t touch him back. I clench my jaw when I see his other hand creep up to touch her. His eyes are fixed on the bar over her shoulder, but his attention is elsewhere.
Everything around me melts away and the room goes silent. All I can hear is my pulse in my ear and all I can see is his hand eclipsing the perfect curve of her hip. His fingers are kneading her curves back and forth and it looks how nails on a chalkboard sound. Soon, I watch his hand slide around to her stomach, low at first, threatening to dip below the tie on her jeans. Her face is relaxed, but she’s not smiling anymore. I know she doesn’t like it.
He turns to inhale her hair and breathe in her intoxicating scent. My jaw is clenched so tight it’s aching and my eyes are burning holes in the side of his face. He’s holding her against him, sliding his hand back and forth across her stomach, but she’s smart, her tank top is tucked in, so he can’t feel her bare skin. He reaches up, sweeps her curls away from her ear, and whispers something to her. She chews her bottom lip, furiously picking at her cuticles down by her waist.
He slides his hand up the side of her torso, slowly, and gently positions her right tit in the crook of his thumb. But when she feels him and tenses, he lets go and his arms fall away from her. He takes a few steps away from her and then motions to the far end of the bar. She looks over her shoulder toward her table, but then follows him. I don’t take my eyes off her as she crosses the floor to the edge of the room.
But then someone taps my shoulder. It’s a girl who can’t be more than five-two asking if the table next to me is free. I nod and step away from the wall to change my vantage point. When I look up, a large group crosses in front of me, obscuring the bar. When they finally move out of the way, Brett’s gone.
And something is very wrong.
She’s gone, I don’t know where she went, and worse, I don’t see Wells, either. I move along the perimeter on high alert, scanning the bar, glancing at their table as I pass. Barrett and their other friend are still there, along with the rest of the pack. I move through the crowd like a shadow toward the last place I saw them.
And that’s when I see the door.
Everyone has to be somewhere. No one just vanishes into thin air. I know this better than anyone. I pull my hood over my head and raise my neck gaiter over my nose as I stride across the floor. In an instant, I blend into the darkness and no one notices me throw open the door and disappear through the wall. And when I do, I find exactly what I’m looking for.
When I see her face, I can breathe again. But with that breath comes blind rage. When I see she’s terrified and Wells is holding her hands behind her back, I decide he might not leave alive.
He doesn’t know what hits him. I grab his shoulders and jerk him off of her, throwing him across the corridor. Her scream as he hits the wall only feeds my fury and as soon as he turns around, I shove him into the closet, slamming the door behind me. I send him flying into the metal shelves with a crash and grab him by the front of his shirt, ramming his back against them as he stumbles over the loose bottles and packs of paper towels rolling around the floor.
“Are you deaf? You not fucking hear my girl say no?”
I didn’t even have to hear it; I know she did. The look on her face said as much.
“Who the fuck are you?” He’s outraged, which is laughable.
I reach behind me and rip my knife from my jeans, pure fear flashing across his face for a brief moment when he sees the blade. Air hisses through my clenched teeth as I rake the serrated edge over his throat, nicking his flesh with each breath he takes.
“You fucking touch my girl again, I slice off your dick and feed it to you,” I whip my hand away from his throat and swing my arm down, bringing my knife up between his legs, “or I can now if you have problems with impulse control.”
If he had anything going on in his jeans before, he sure as hell doesn’t now.
“Alright man,” he eyes me suspiciously before suddenly getting his second wind, “what are you, her pimp? I need to pay first?”
Even now, his audacity is impressive.
“Bet that pussy’s expensive,” he taunts, “you charge extra for that ass or you keep it for yourself?”
I break his nose for that one. There’s only room for one irreverent asshole in this closet.
After throwing him to the floor and landing four impeccable blows to his face, I drag my hand across the front of his shirt to wipe his blood from my knuckles. I’d rather listen to Brett’s moans tonight than his, but here we are.
“Have a good evening, Officer,” I sneer as I step over his body, leaving him a dazed and bloody mess on the floor as I shut the door behind me.
Once I slip out the door into the main room again, I make my way around the perimeter to a dark corner where I can watch their table. Brett’s not there, yet. But I’m not worried because at least she’s not with Wells anymore. Barrett’s not at the table, either. So, I wait, and keep an eye on their friend, alone at the table with the remaining four. It’s not five minutes before he comes staggering out from the far end of the bar and slinks back to the table. He manages not to make a scene, but takes three of his friends with him when he leaves. He wants to get his raggedy ass out of here as soon as possible before everyone finds out the dirty cop got jumped while trying to rape a woman.
About 10 minutes later, Brett and Barrett return from the opposite side of the bar. Brett’s laughing again, so I let myself relax a little. I even smile a bit when I notice the uncomfortable look that creeps across her face after she starts talking to her friend and the one guy that stayed behind. I know they’re talking about me. And now she knows I’m here. I might love scaring her, but I’ll keep her safe like no one else can, especially if it involves Wells or any of his associates.
But one thing’s for sure, I can only imagine the exchange that’ll take place when he and Brett inevitably come face to face at one of the Garrison family barbecues…
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Brett
Present
“I should’ve seen it. I should’ve seen the signs. There are always signs…” I trail off, once again admonishing myself for things I can’t change.
That bitch, hindsight, and her fucking 20/20 vision.
