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In the background, music continues to play, and there’s a steady rise and fall of conversation around us. No one pays us much attention as I hold the man in a headlock, and we spin around in a circle while he tries to gain the upper hand.
Fucking bull. It’s no wonder I’m able to take him on easily. He isn’t even challenging at this point.
When I do let him go, he staggers back and gives me a withering look. I keep my eyes on him as I take a few steps back till I reach the bar. Then I take a few sips of my drink. He talks to another smaller man, his chest rising and falling unevenly. I turn my back on him to gesture for another drink, and he lunges at me again.
I grunt as he pushes me against the bar.
With a frown, I punch him again, sending droplets of blood in every direction. Suddenly, two large, burly men materialize before us, and they don’t look pleased. One of them shoves my opponent outside, muttering to him the entire way. The other one tries to do the same to me, but I keep ducking out of reach.
Adrenaline bursts through me as we circle each other until he grows impatient.
When the second bouncer returns, the two of them advance on me until I stumble out of the double doors and onto the dimly lighted street. I draw myself up to my full height and try to fight them, but neither of them is taking the bait. Eventually, one of them holds me down while the other punches me in the stomach.
Stars burst in my field of vision, but I don’t care. It feels good to feel something other than the pain of being apart from Isabella.
I crumple into a heap on the ground as the two of them hit me again, sending another sharp bolt of pain through me. When I lift my head up and look at them, I give them both a bloody smile. Then, I spit out a mouthful of blood onto the pavement. The two of them exchange a quick and uneasy look before shaking their heads. One of them, the shorter one, steps forward and pauses.
“I’d think twice if I were you.”
I push myself to my feet and squint over my shoulder, frowning at Tristan, who leaves Ernesto’s side and takes a step in my direction. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Tristan doesn’t acknowledge me as he steps forward and folds his arms over his chest. “We got a problem here?”
A long and tense moment passes.
Slowly, Tristan pulls his jacket back, revealing the outline of the gun hidden in the waistband of his jeans. Both of my assailants stem their aggressiveness and take involuntary steps back. Without warning, they spin on their heels and scurry back inside, the doors thudding shut behind them. I wait until they’re far enough away to push Tristan.
He loses his balance and gives me a confused look. “What the hell?”
“I don’t need your fucking help,” I snap, pausing to spit out another mouthful of blood. “I had it under control.”
Tristan raises an eyebrow. “How is getting the shit beat out of you having it under control?”
I press Tristan against the nearest well and bear my bloodied teeth at him. “None of your fucking business, that’s how.”
Tristan doesn’t look fazed as his dark eyes study my face. “This really isn’t good for you, Carter.”
I place one hand on either side of his shoulders and give him a firm shake. “Don’t tell me you came here to waste my goddamn time by playing shrink.”
Tristan shrugs. “Maybe I have.”
I shove Tristan again, but it’s not as satisfying as I want it to be. And it doesn’t drown out the voices in my head.
After a long moment, I release Tristan and take a few steps back. “You’re not worth the effort anyway.”
Tristan adjusts the collar of his jacket. “I’m glad you think so highly of me.”
Ignoring him, I wrench the back door of Ernesto’s SUV open and pat around in the semi-darkness. When my fingers close around the familiar bottle, I smile and take it out. Then I spin around to face Tristan, press the bottle to my lips, and take a large swig.
The familiar liquid burns a path down my throat, chasing away some of the knots in my stomach.
Every last part of me is sore. But I know it isn’t enough. If I have any hope of being able to sleep tonight, I need to find someone else who can take me on.
Tristan shoves one hand into his pocket and studies me. “You forgot, didn’t you?”
“Forgot what?”
“He’s been like that since he came to stay with me,” Ernesto replies with an exhale. “I’m out of ideas.”
