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“No, thanks, Darren.” I jerked out of his grip and my seat wobbled alarmingly. “I’m not interested.”
“Are you serious?” He looked like I just insulted his mother. “What do you mean you’re not interested?”
I pushed my drink out of the way of Darren’s flailing hand. He was just about to knock the thing over. “I don’t want to invite you up to my hotel room. I don’t want to have sex with you, or whatever you think is going to happen up there. Honestly, I think you should probably go home now,” were my gritted words.
Darren bared at his yellow teeth at me. “You can’t be for real.” He gripped the edge of the table and leaned over it. A huff of his bourbon breath rushed over my face. I cringed. He rushed on, voice rising higher and higher. “You should be getting on your knees to thank me!” he announced with a princely air. At that moment, the bartender stared over at us from his station, as if sensing trouble. The man frowned, yet did nothing as Darren continued. “I was the only guy who wanted to be with you in high school. Because of me, you didn’t have to spend your entire four years as a blob of pus.”
“What?!”
This guy was crazy. I didn’t have to put up with this because this is no way to treat a woman.
“Darren, you’re just being super rude,” I warned and grabbed my purse, getting ready to leave.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He lurched toward me and shoved his hands under the table. Long, gangly fingers clamped down on my thighs, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises.
“Ouch!” I stared at Darren in shock as my legs throbbed from the pain.
But the man was on a roll. He jumped from his stool and groped me harder, in full view of everyone at the bar. Darren was always strange, but never did I think he would do something so heinous. On a mission of disrespect, his hands shoved up my dress and fumbled towards my crotch.
No! No!
Frozen in my chair, I trembled, fingers clenched around my purse. Panic burst into my chest and pushed me to the edge of hyperventilating.
This can’t be happening. No way. Darren was a terrible person but he’d never done anything like this before.
Unfortunatley, the burst of his breath against my face made the assault even more real.
“You owe me, Kate!” he whined aggressively. “For saving you in high school!”
Still in shock, I tumbled off the stool as the man continued groping. A sharp cry left my throat as I fell.
Oh god!
But instead of hitting the floor, I tumbled back against a warm and firm chest. Strong arms wound around my stomach just as the familiar scent of clean, masculine sweat and citrus soothed me.
Hard Fought was here, thank god.
“Are you okay, baby?” rumbled Hudson. “Are you hurt?”
But Hudson was calm compared to his bandmates.
“Get the fuck off her!” came a furious growl.
I opened her eyes just in time to see Gunner slam his fist into Darren’s stomach. The asshole doubled over with a gasping whoosh! leaving his wide open mouth.
“You touch her again and see what happens then,” Hudson hissed, yanking Darren’s head back by the hair at the same time Gunner slammed his forearm against his windpipe. Darren turned purple, staring from one guy to the otherm, eyes going wide as he realized who they were.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” the bartender bellowed, heading towards the scene. “Pierre, call the cops!”
Darren choked. “I can’t brea—” He wheezed unable to go on.
Gunner pulled his muscled forearm off the guy. “What you can do is get the fuck out of here before we tear you apart.” He shoved Darren away like the touch of the man’s skin disgusted him.
When Gunner was done, Brody yanked Darren by the collar of his wrinkled shirt and pushed him toward the door. “Fuck off, you piece of shit.”
Darren stumbled and fell, then clumsily picked himself off the floor as both men stalked toward him with looks that could kill. Pure terror twisted his face when he saw how close they were to trampling the doughy man. He yelped and pumped his doughy legs, scrambling furiously towards the exit.
“Yo, you can’t do that!” the bartender called again. “The cops are coming and you’re all gonna get arrested! I don’t care who you think you are—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Brody cut him off. “You didn’t stop an assault in this bar a few minutes ago. We did. Call the cops if you want but you know that you’ll be in as much trouble as we will.”
The waiter, Pierre, was standing by the phone, hand hovering over it like he wasn’t sure what to do.
I blinked when Hudson touched my cheek and brushed his fingers through my long hair. His touches grounded me, bringing me back from the fear that had taken me over when Darren attacked. “Talk to me, Kitty-Kat. Are you okay?”
