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He tightens his grip, “People don’t tell me no, sweetheart. Now turn around and back that ass up, or I’ll…” The sleazy man can’t finish his sentence before a hand grabs him by the collar and slams him to the ground.
Great. Now I made the bouncers cause a scene.
It’s not one of the bouncers, though. It’s Finn. He has the man pinned to the ground while Mac rears his fist back and slams it into the guy’s nose, instantly splitting the bridge. “You don’t get to fucking touch her!” The rage in Mac’s voice is unlike anything I’ve ever heard. Blood begins pouring out of the douchebag’s nose, but Finn doesn’t let him go, and Mac doesn’t stop punching.
I don’t move. I just stand there. Watching the two of them beat the hell out of this guy. Frozen in place. Not out of fear but in awe. The way their muscles ripple underneath their suits, the pure rage coursing through them because someone touched what was theirs… me.
I notice the man is no longer fighting back and has gone limp. Alright, this has gone on long enough. The guy doesn’t need to die over it.
“Mac!” I shout over the music… “I think that’s enough.” He doesn’t stop. Neither of them acknowledges me. I step closer, “Finn, I think you got him!”
Still nothing.
Mac pulls his fist back for another punch, and I grab his arm. His head spins towards me so fast I’m sure he pulled a muscle. He’s looking at me, but it’s almost like he doesn’t see me, like he’s looking right through me. Blinded by rage.
I cup his face with my hands, “Mac, I’m okay. That’s enough.”
His face changes almost instantly, and I know he finally heard me. He stands in front of me as Finn lets go of the man’s shirt. He roars at the security guard beside us, “Get this fucking asshole out of here.”
The guard grabs the guy by the front of his shirt and pulls him up to his feet, his eyes opening ever so slightly. Finn gets in his face before the guard can pull him away, “The only reason you aren’t dying tonight is because of her. If I ever see you again… If you ever come near her again, I will not fucking hesitate to rip your spine out of your fucking asshole and shove it down your fucking throat.”
Without another word to the guy, Finn takes a couple of steps towards me, fire burning in his eyes. He grabs my hand and drags me through the crowd with Mac hot on our tails down a hallway in the back of the club and into what looks to be their office. Mac slams the door closed before he comes to stand next to Finn in front of me. Both of them look like they’re about to boil over with rage.
I should have stayed in the booth. I should have waited.
Shit, Harper. Can’t you just do as you’re told? Ronan’s words from earlier pound through my head. My eyes well up in frustration. I don’t want them to be upset with me. I wanted to have a fun night. I ruined it. I feel a tear roll down my cheek as I look up at the two of them standing there. Breathing heavy. Not speaking.
“I’m sorry. I–I didn’t mean to.”
They’re pissed that I caused a scene. That I didn’t behave. They’re going to realize I’m not worth the trouble. They’re going to leave me.
Just like everyone else.
20
Finn
“What?” I’m still firmly planted in my spot next to Mac, fucking stunned and trying to simmer the rage that’s boiling inside me. Why in the hell is she apologizing?
“Princess, why are you apologizing?” Mac keeps his voice low, trying not to startle her.
“I–I should have stayed in the booth and waited for you guys. I just wanted to dance. I wasn’t trying to draw attention, but then that guy…” Tears spill down her cheek, and she sucks in another harsh breath. “I thought I could handle him, but he wouldn’t let go… and then… then you guys showed up… and… I’m sorry I made you do that.”
Harper has her arms wrapped around her middle, now looking at the ground like she’s trying to make herself as small as possible.
Seeing her like this is something I wasn’t prepared for. I want to move mountains to take her pain away, to stop her from being upset. Seeing tears stream down her face, knowing I could have prevented them, fills my body with a wrath I’ve never experienced before. I’m clenching my fists at my sides, willing myself to get a grip. I need to be calm. She needs to understand that we’re not upset with her. The only person I’m upset with is that asshole sitting outside on the curb, who is lucky enough to still be breathing.
Mac moves towards Harper to comfort her. He’s always been better at that. He reaches up to cup her face and brushes a tear away with his thumb. “You have nothing to apologize for. Yes, I wish you would have stayed in the booth and waited for us, but,” Harper raises her eyes to meet Mac’s, “just because you were dancing alone doesn’t give anyone permission to put their hands on you.”
“Ever,” I snarl from behind Mac.
Harper’s gaze meets mine. “You are ours. Fucking ours, Harper. Anyone who puts their hands on you will be lucky to walk away with them still intact.”
Her mouth drops open as if she’s shocked we would be capable of something so violent. Most people think Ronan has the worst temper out of us. And really, I don’t blame them. His hard-ass exterior and short temper do nothing to convince them otherwise. But Mac and I, we’re the ones you should fear.
If Mac comes for you, you’ll wish you were dead. His rage has no limits, and he will do anything to get his point across. It’s how he was trained. But me? You won’t have time to wish you were dead. You already will be. My anger is something I keep under careful lock and key all day long. So, when it does boil over, it’s an explosion of epic proportions. That fucking asshole sitting outside should be thanking god for Harper. Because she is the only reason I didn’t drag him behind the club after Mac was done with him and snap his fucking neck. But no, just two words from her, “That’s enough,” was all it took to get Mac and me to stop in our tracks.
“I don’t want you to have to do that for me… It’s not worth it,” she whispers.
