"What if some asshole came into the shelter, going after one of the kids. Maybe an abusive stepdad?" he says. This time, he slaps my ass and I whirl around. He's already out of reach. "You're just gonna stand there and let him take her?"
"No!" I snap. "There's contingencies in place. We always have plans."
"Not when the son of a bitch is standing right in front of you with his fist raised, now do you?" he says reasonably. This time the back of his hand lands against my bare stomach with a loudswack!
The burn spreads across my skin. "You cut that shit out!" I shout at him.
The devil's grin creeps across his face. "Now we're getting somewhere. First position." He takes a menacing step forward. "You're gonna let me push you around again?"
He comes at me and I shout, "Oh, fuck you!" I twist out of his way as he'd taught me, using his momentum to jam my elbow hard at the side of his jaw, causing him to stumble a couple of steps. "Oh, crap Roman, I didn't mean-"
He wipes the smear of blood off the corner of his mouth, looking absolutely delighted. "What did you just say?"
"I said…" I step backward, clenching my fists. "I said, fuck you. I'm not weak. I put that fucking shelter together all by myself."
"Oh, but with Daddy's money," he says mockingly.
I know he's trying to get a rise out of me, and it's working. When he comes at me this time, I hook my arm through his as he passes, leaping onto his back and wrapping my other elbow around his throat, legs squeezing his waist like I'm trying to crush his internal organs.
"You don't know who you're fucking with!" I shout.
He spins gracefully on the balls of his feet a couple of times. It doesn't throw me off, but I'm getting dizzy. "Who am I fucking with?" he taunts.
"Violet Monroe, and you're pissing me the fuck off!"
God,that feels good.
I'm still clinging to him like a howler monkey on a palm tree and he doesn't seem to mind, looking back at me. "You've always had to besopolite, haven't you, sweet Violet?" He reaches back with both hands, cupping my ass and bouncing me higher. "It feels good to get pissed off, doesn't it? To shout out the occasional'fuck!'" He shouts it at the top of his lungs, the sound bouncing back from the windows of the gym. "It feels good to say 'fuck those guys!' All the people you have to deal with, The Chads, your dickwad stepfather. What do you say?"
"Fuck 'em all!" I shout and laugh at the same time. It feelssogood; the stream of fury leaving my throat lighter. I feel unstoppable.
"Good." He deftly flips me over his head and sets my ass down on the mat. Walking to the far end, he goes into a crouch. "Let's try it again."
Chapter Twenty
In which sometimes, bruises are prized souvenirs.
Roman…
Violet cooks dinner that night, a huge seafood feast sent over from one of our suppliers who owes me a favor. She insisted that the twins' security team and Ivan join us because, "God knows these poor men deserve a decent meal after what my sisters put them through."
"Put me to work, Chef," I say as she darts between the broiler to an enormous pot of boiling water, and piling sliced lemons and limes into bowls.
"I'm sure a big, strong man like you knows how to work a grill, right?" She gives me a saucy little smile.
"I'm pretty sure I would have my dick removed along with my man card if I didn't."
"If you wouldn't mind grilling these scallop and shrimp skewers, I would be grateful," she says, cheeks pink.
"Are you sure you don't want more help?" I ask. "I can drag some of the men in here…"
"Iris and Rose already made a lemon torte for dessert, and I like cooking, it relaxes me," she says. "Do you think I've been making all these dinners because I was trying to be courteous and thankyou for your extended hospitality?" She winks at me as she buzzes by, stirring a bowl of melted butter and lemon.
"My chef's getting aggrieved that you've taken over his job," I say, "but I've never eaten better."
"Don't you dare let him go!" She points her spatula at me. "I love that man's stroganoff."
It's a good night.
