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He realised that when he stood, I saw it in his eyes. The smart thing to do at this point would be to back the fuck off.
The dumbass, manly pride thing to do was to step closer to me and curl his lip.
"Why can't she be interested in me?" he asked. "A girl like her, I can make her scream." He glanced toward her. "Just look at how she's dressed, she's practically begging for it."
Okay, the really smart thing to do right now would be grab Chantel's hand and march her right out the door. We could find somewhere nice. Or better yet, go home.
But she's my sister, and no one talks smack about her like that. Matter of fact, anyone who thinks a woman's clothes mean she wants sex needs to be corrected, by my way of thinking.
"She's wearing what she likes, dumbass." I placed a couple of fingers to his chest and gave Erik a shove.
He took a few steps back. Way more than necessary for a small push. Some people had to be drama queens.
His face turned red. His eyes flashed with anger.
"You sure she's not wearing what you like?" he asked.
I didn't know if I should laugh or punch him in the dick. Okay, no, that's not right. I knew I shouldn't punch him in the dick, but I was tempted.
"She's my sister, you sick son of a bitch," I said instead.
"So?" He sneered. "She looks like she'd put out for anyone."
I stepped forward, hand curled into a fist, ready to knock his lights out.
Chantel beat me to it. She jumped between us and punched him fair in the eye. She was small, but strong enough to force him back a step or two for real.
"You little bitch," he growled. He made to swing at her.
I grabbed her shoulders, turned us both and bore the brunt of the blow on the side of my neck. I guessed he was aiming for Chantel's face.
My head snapped sideways.
"Motherfucker," I swore under my breath.
I let Chantel go and turned back, ready to beat the snot out of this guy.
Before I could, someone grabbed my arm. I went to shake them off, but the security guard wouldn't budge.
"I'll have to ask you to step outside, Mr Clinton." The guy—his name tag read Tank—recognised me.
Crap.
His voice was cool and steady, but he wasn't taking no from me, or anyone else.
"You too," he said to Chantel.
Another guard escorted Erik to the door, and from the look of the phone in his hand, he was calling the cops.
"We'll come quietly," I said.
Tank nodded. "I appreciate that." He didn't let my arm go.
"I didn't touch him," I added. I shot Chantel a look. For some reason, she was grinning from ear to ear. Evidently she didn't realise how much trouble I was in now. She probably thought this was some fun game, and her dear big brother would save her ass, as usual.
Okay, I would if I could, but I had a bad feeling I wouldn't be able to this time. She'd be in all kinds of trouble with our mother if she got thrown in gaol.
"Uh-ha," Tank said. Without even a hint of doubt, he'd heard that before. Several times a night, most likely. In my case it was more or less true, but he didn't care.
