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He gets up then, pushing the chair back with a scrape along the floor. The waiter has scurried off into the kitchen, clearly aware that a line is about to be crossed. “I can handle myself just fine,” he says. Then he does something that absolutely makes me see red, pushing me over the edge. He grabs hold of Gabby’s wrist off the table and yanks her up to stand beside him as if he’s about to walk out of the restaurant with her.
He’s not going to get a chance.
Fueled on even more by the sound of her terrified gasp, I take the one stride necessary to get into range and then launch my fist full into his face. He doesn’t even have time to react. He just sags backward, hitting the wall and almost bouncing off it, letting go of Gabby as his hand goes to his face. A second hit on the other side, and he drops to the floor, rattling the chair and almost tipping it over.
“You can’t do that!” one of his friends exclaims. The others are getting to their feet in a rush, thinking they might have a chance at taking me if they all come at me at once.
“My father’s going to hear about this!” the boy on the floor shouts. “I warned you!”
“Lord Almsely?” I snort. “You’re going to tell Lord Almsely that you had a run-in with Oswald Patterson, are you?”
The reaction ripples through them all one by one. They pale, going still. The boys that are still around their table look at one another doubtfully, unspoken words hanging on their lips, questions in their eyes. The one on the floor goes suspiciously quiet, too.
They glance back at me as one, as if suddenly thinking that they should verify my claim. Could I be Oswald Patterson? They must be thinking. They must be comparing photographs they’ve seen in the paper, trying to mentally gauge whether I really am who I say I am.
And they know that I’m telling the truth because their eyes drop to the table and there’s a sudden, definitive amount of foot-shuffling.
“Sounds like you boys had better leave,” Marco says from behind me, where the door into the kitchen sits. I don’t turn to look at him. I stand my ground, stance strong, ready to hit another one of them if I have to – but I know I won’t have to.
None of them have the guts to take me on, now that they know who I am.
“By the way,” I say, calmly, as the little snot who started this all picks himself up off the floor. His friends are already shuffling towards the door, trying to look as though it was their idea to go in the first place. “For future reference, that’s how you drop a ‘don’t you know who I am’ without sounding like a little arsehole.”
It’s a little immature of me, but I do enjoy how his face colors and he sidles past me silently, clearly wanting nothing more than to try to hit me back but too afraid to do it.
Only when they’ve gone do I let the tension leave my body. I step toward Gabby offering her a hand. “I’m terribly sorry about that,” I tell her. “I promise you, not all English boys are like that. Some of us have actually been raised well.”
She shudders slightly when she touches my hand, it’s like everything in her calms, her posture relaxing. “I can see that,” she says breathlessly, though she’s trying very hard to sound as settled as possible.
Chapter Nine
Gabby
I can’t breathe.
That was so impressive, I don’t even know where to start.
I was so afraid – until Oz showed up. And then I just felt so safe, even knowing he was in the room. While there was still a chance that something might happen, I was tense – but not even so much for myself. I just knew, instinctively, that he wasn’t going to let anything happen to me. That he would rather see himself get hurt than me. I knew that whatever happened I was going to be alright.
It was him I was worried about.
But those boys – as soon as they heard his name… they just ran.
Maybe I need to do a little research. Oz has always just been Oz to us – my dad’s best friend who lives in London. But by the way, those boys reacted, I know that his name must mean so much more here.
I was already impressed enough by him. And now there’s more?
“Are you alright?” he asks, quiet and gentle. He’s already spoken with Marco while the waiter picked up the fallen chair from the scuffle. The other couples who were seated at the tables around us have murmured their approval of his actions, though I didn’t exactly see any of them rushing to my aid when it was clear I was being harassed. Still. I suppose they didn’t think it was their place.
