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"No." His smile only spread, reaching up into his eyes and making the beautiful brown orbs twinkle. "That's my name, Tinker Bell. Pick, short for Patrick Jason Ryan. You like?"
Like? This guy totally blew my mind. Why would he care if I liked his cool-ass, unique name?
"Anyway . . . " The woman I still didn't know cleared her throat, gave the two of us a strange glance, and turned back to the group. "She didn't have any of the water retention this girl has in her face."
I gasped and covered my cheeks so hottie boy Pick couldn't see how fat I'd become. Oh my God, how hideous did I look? And why would Reese let me leave the apartment this way? I swung to her for immediate support. "I have water retention?"
"What? No! No, sweetie. Barely any at all."
Oh my God! Barely any at all was so far away from none that she might as well have called me a bloated whale. "So I do then?"
Reese fumbled a moment before sending the other woman a scowl. But as she opened her mouth to calm me, Mason grabbed her arm. His face paled as he stared at something over her shoulder.
I glanced around to find a new person entering the nightclub—in a long tan trench coat.
Oh, hell. My best friend was going to go to jail tonight for murder.
"Anyone have a hatchet handy?" Reese growled, stepping away from the bar to face off with Mrs. Garrison. "Because I'm feeling a compelling need to hack a bitch."
"Dude." Ten bumped his elbow into the fifth bartender who might be Gamble—or not. Hell, I didn't know who was who anymore. "Chick fight. Awesome."
As I reached for Reese to stop her and failed, Mason jumped over the bar, much the same way Pick had hopped over it to fetch me more beer nuts. He had more success at catching Reese than I'd had and curled his arm around her waist, keeping her from attacking.
"I told you not to come back," he snarled at Mrs. Garrison. "And I made it crystal clear before I even left Florida that I never wanted anything to do with you again. Why are you doing this?"
She ignored him, smiling evilly at my girl. "Reese," she murmured, nodding her head in acknowledgement. "It's been too long since I last saw you."
"I know, hasn't it?" Reese answered
with the same fake pleasantry before she sneered. "My hand's stopped ringing from the last time I bitch-slapped the shit out of you."
"Ohh!" Ten cried, smacking his hand on his knee and hooting. "Burn."
Mrs. Garrison narrowed her eyes. "You need to release him, dear. He doesn't belong here."
Everything went incredibly tense then. Mason and Reese ganged up on the rapist, trying to get to her to leave, telling her they didn't believe a word she said. And Mrs. Garrison just oozed evil as she ripped open her coat, revealing a swollen stomach.
"If I'm not pregnant, then how do you explain this?"
"Oh, please." I rolled my eyes and waved my hand at her. "That's the fakest pregnant belly I've ever seen."
When Mrs. Garrison swiveled my way with a scowl, I slid off my stool and pooched out my little girl. "This is the real deal, honey. So why don't you stop picking on Mason and my cousin Reese, crawl back home to Florida, and find someone new to harass. In fact, look up Madeline and Shaw Mercer why don't you? They actually deserve your brand of attention."
Ooh, I would just love to watch the two rapists go head to head. Might actually be a bit of a challenge for my father to chew Mrs. Garrison up and spit her out. Might take him a whole hour to destroy her.
She narrowed her eyes. "I should've guessed you were Reese's snooty little Mercer cousin. Eva, isn't it? The one who tried to trap Alec Worthington into marriage by getting herself knocked up—"
"Okay, that's enough," Reese snapped, and I'm grateful she intervened because just hearing Alec's name made me tense and shut down. But what the hell? Did everyone back home think I got pregnant on purpose to trap him into marriage? Eww. No way on God's green earth had I wanted to settle down with an egotistical ass like Alec Worthington. I wouldn't let that man back into my life now if he came crawling, begging, and offering money for me to forgive him.
While my head still swam, wondering what all my old cronies back in Florida really thought of me now, Reese and Mason and Mrs. Garrison went 'round and 'round some more, until the woman I soon learned was named Dr. Kavanagh pulled a pregnancy test out of her purse and told Mrs. Garrison to supply some physical proof.
Once the rapist finally agreed to pee on the stick, there was some debate over who'd accompany her back to the bathroom to oversee her test taking. When I tried to chime in and say I'd gladly escort the wicked witch—so I could be the first to laugh in her face when all her lies were revealed—Pick whipped out his hand and reached across the bar to grasp my elbow, halting me.
"I don't think so, Tinker Bell. If Lowe doesn't trust his woman alone with that broad, then you sure as hell aren't going near her. Not in your condition."
I blinked at him, startled into silent stupidity. Not in my condition?
Really, just who did this guy think he was to act so proprietary of me, making sure I had clean food and stayed away from evil rapists? No one was ever that nice for no reason at all. Made me wonder what his ulterior motive was. I jerked my elbow from his grip, glaring him down.
