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MALCOLM
Screams erupted near the bar, and I looked up to see Casey in the arms of a large guy as he tried to drag her into the back. She was fighting hard and screaming bloody murder. Greg stood up to get a better view, cackling with glee at all the commotion.
“Fuck, she went batshit crazy, didn't she?”
I didn't know what compelled me to move, but I jumped up and rushed out of the booth. The big guy shoved Casey backward. Hard. There was blood covering his shirt, and I couldn't tell who it belonged to.
“Don't you ever touch me again!” Casey screamed, finger pointed in the guy’s face.
“I can do whatever I damn well please,” the guy screamed back.
He lunged at Casey, his elbow clocking her in the side of the face. That was it. Seeing him hit her like that – I just lost it. I pushed my way through the crowd of onlookers, stepping between Casey and the guy before I even knew what I was doing. The guy flashed me a cocky, “what are you gonna do” kind of smile, so I reached back and punched the asshole square in the face. He stumbled backward, his hands over his face, blood seeping out from between his clenched fingers.
The big guy stared back at me with a look of utter shock on his face. He pulled his hands off his nose and looked at the blood coating them, the look of shock on his face deepening even further. It was like he couldn't believe I'd punched him. Judging by his size, I bet few people stood up to him like that and he wasn't used to it.
“She said to not touch her,” I growled.
“Do you know who I am, asshole?” he sneered, his face smeared with blood. “Do you know who my father is?”
“No, and I don't care,” I snapped back. “When a woman tells you to leave her alone – you listen.”
The man lunged toward me, murder in his eyes, but I was ready for him. As big as he was, I still had several inches – and a lot more muscle – than he did. When he swung his big meaty fist at me, I sidestepped it and grabbed hold of his arm, flipping it around and pinning it behind his back in one smooth motion.
My martial arts classes from back in the day apparently paid off because I looked like I knew what I was doing. I pressed down on the elbow, drawing a pained squeal from the guy. He struggled against my grip, and I was prepared to break the arm if needed, to keep him from going after me or Casey again.
“I think you should get your ass back behind the bar and leave us alone,” I said, my voice low and menacing. “Got it?”
A voice called out from the crowd, and the people around us parted quickly.
“Tommy!” he bellowed again.
It was Leon, the owner of the club and he looked pissed. Not that he had any real right to be.
“Mr. Crane, let go of my son before I call the police.”
His voice was calm. He knew he had me. I didn't want any public embarrassment for my family – not during such a crucial time. With one last quick twist of his arm and a satisfying grunt of pain from him, I let go of Tommy, pushing him away from me. He turned and started toward me again, because some guys never learn. His dad grabbed his arms and held him back this time.
“You two,” Leon shouted, pointing at me and Casey. “Get the hell out of my club, and don't come back.”
“Not a problem,” I said. “I'm not a fan of places who let their wait staff be abused anyway. And I'll make sure all my friends know what kind of a club you're running here, Leon.”
I turned to walk away and came face-to-face with Casey, who didn't look happy to see me. Her eyes were narrowed, and her jaw clenched. She looked every bit as pissed as Tommy had.
“You didn't have to save me, you know. I can handle myself.” She scowled at me, her eyes filled with utter contempt.
“I know,” I said.
Leon continued shouting. “You're done, Casey. Get out. Now”
Casey looked over my shoulder at Leon, and a panicked expression suddenly replaced the angry one. She stared, wide-eyed at the man and her eyes shimmered with tears. Her face blanched before my eyes and I could see the fear, bright and hot, in her expression.
“Please, Leon, it's not my fault,” she stammered. “Please, give me another chance.”
“No.”
Just one word. One word and it was more than clear that Casey, no matter how much she begged or pleaded, would not be getting her job back. She stood there, tall and defiant, her chin held high, but I noticed the trembling in her hands. I took her hand in mine, and for a second, she let me hold it.
“Come on, let's go,” I said softly to her. I leaned down, smelled the soft coconut scent of her hair and whispered into her ear. “It'll be better if we leave on our own.”
