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Fuck no. Not today, or any day that ends in y asshole.
She reaches the bathroom, and he’s right there. All I see is his slimy hand on her back, on her bare skin, and I see fucking red. I shove through the mass of people and stalk toward them. The balls this asshole has.
I remind myself that making a scene will do me no good, but then also remind myself that a scene will teach other fuckers not to touch what isn’t theirs. The asshole peers at me over his shoulder, then focuses his attention back on Bel again.
His grip curls around her bicep. Bel twists around, trying to escape his touch, and I swear I can smell the panic rolling off her.
"Release her," I hiss through my teeth, trying to keep my damn cool.
Probably too softly with the music playing from the ballroom, but he seems to hear me because his eyes shift to mine, and his mouth turns into a smirk. He's older, probably early thirties, and one of the uncles from the gun-running crew. Paccio, I think, is his name. Not that his name really matters. I don’t give a shit who he is or what he does.
"Run back to your daddy and stay out of this." He smirks.
I smile, wide, white-teeth, my good ole American all-star smile, then I do exactly what I said I wouldn’t do and lose my cool.
Tightening my hand into a fist, I pull my arm back and punch him in the face. My knuckles slam into his nose, and the sound of bone breaking echoes through my ears. It’s a glorious sound. Blood sprays from his wound and down my hand. Dammit. I hope Dad didn’t rent this tux because if so, he’s going to be pissed.
The adrenaline pulses in my veins, and all I can see is the asshole in front of me.
I’m vaguely aware of someone behind me shouting, but I ignore the threat until it’s upon me. Paccio, or whatever the hell his name is, releases Bel and grabs his nose, while taking a wobbly step back.
That’s right, fucker.
“I think it’s you who needs to run back to your daddy,” I mock and take a step forward, intending to hit him again, but this time a hand closes around my bicep, hauling me back.
"Drew." Sebastian's warning tone makes me pause.
I barely spare him a look, my gaze instead darting to Bel. She is blinking slowly, a mixture of shock and fear pitching her delicate features. I notice her hand on her bicep, touching the space where he grabbed her. I want to remove the memory of his touch for her. I should’ve broken his arm, hand, shoulder. He deserves worse than a busted nose.
"You okay?" I ask.
She nods, and then as if realizing all the attention is on her, she squares her shoulders. "I'm fine. It was nothing."
The bleeding man shouts at me, "You fucking asshole. I'm going to kill you."
Sebastian steps between us, and right into the guy's face. "Do you know who I am?"
The man's gaze widens, recognition taking place. He nods and then drops his hands, spitting a gob of blood onto the shiny tile. It wouldn’t be a true meeting without a little bloodshed, right?
Sebastian gestures to Bel. "Do you know who she is?"
The man shakes his head. "I thought she was your date or something. A hot piece of ass for the after-party."
Seb's face shifts from perfectly neutral to downright deadly in an instant. I’m ready to step in and stop him from beating this guy's ass, but Seb maintains composure and stops me in my tracks with a hand to my chest.
"This is my sister, Mr. Paccio. My. Sister." There's so much menace in his tone that even I'm a little worried right now.
Fear slowly trickles into the asshole's eyes. "Fuck."
"Yeah, you got that right. Spread the word. Touch my sister, and I will remove your balls and feed them to you while she watches. Fuck with my family again, and it will be the last thing you do. Do you understand?"
The man nods, and Sebastian takes a wavering step backward. Since his grandfather’s death, he’s been more menacing, colder, and, dare I say, crueler. It’s like all the trauma is finally weighing down on him. I can’t imagine what it’s like to carry that weight, even if he does so well.
Bel looks between Seb and myself, almost as if she’s uncertain which one of us is the bad guy. Before she can make her decision, Seb gently cups Bel's shoulder and leads her back into the party.
She glances back at the bathroom door longingly, and I shake my head. Paccio sneers at me, and I’m certain I’m going to have to wipe the floor with his face, but he chooses better of it and turns, heading toward the kitchen as one of the staff scurries to clean his blood off the floor.
"I see you're making friends already, Son." My father's cold voice greets me from behind.
