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I stood up, using the table as a deterrent and placing it between us. “I was just leaving,” I told him. His face lit up, so I quickly added, “Alone.”

The smile transformed in a flash and I knew I wasn’t getting out of here without drawing attention. I countered his now angry demeanor with a scowl of my own. It was like we were in some Mexican standoff. One of us had to move and I had a feeling if it was me, that he wasn’t about to let me pass peacefully.

“All you women here are the same, fucking stuck up. Think you’re better than everyone else, even in your…” he waved his hand over me like he was dissecting my outfit, “…street rat clothing.”

I didn’t take offense, hell, I almost laughed. If that was the best he had, I was going to win this battle intellectually by a mile. But it wasn’t that that I was worried about. He was a big guy and I was tall, but even I knew that brawn sometimes came off on top over brains.

“You need to go pick on another barfly,” I told him seriously. Hoping he would deem our little encounter too much trouble and move on to harass the next woman.

Apparently, I was hoping for too much and this guy either had a really stupid or really stubborn streak. Neither of which was going to bode well for me if I didn’t get out of this situation quickly.

People bustled around, ignoring what was happening as if they couldn’t do anything to stop it. So why bother. Just like at the train station. If it wasn’t your fight, why get involved?

Selfish.People were selfish.

I decided to go for it. Hoping that he would be too drunk and slow to try and make a move as I slid past him. I slipped between the booth and the table I’d just been sitting at, twisting my body sideways around him and attempting to keep the space between us. I underestimated how far his reach was and found my arm encased in his hot sweaty hand. His manicured fingernails dug into my skin.

“Ow!” I yelped, pulling at his wrist with my other hand. “Let go.”

Leaning in closer, he growled right in my face, “Stop being such a stuck up bitch.”

“Let me go,” I snapped, giving up on his hand and pushing at his chest. My arm burned where his fingers dug into me. It was the kind of pain I hadn’t felt in a long time. The kind of pain you only feel when it’s inflicted on you by another human being. I pushed at him again but he didn’t budge. Instead, he began to pull me. I dug my heels in, but he was strong.

“Hey!” a voice called out. Suit man looked up sharply. His eyes narrowing. “Let her go.” The voice was stern and unforgiving.

“Mind your own business,” my attacker growled. His hand tightened on my arm and with the sharp jolt of pain that shot through me, I decided I didn’t care if I caused a scene any longer. I brought my foot back and lined it up, throwing all my strength into it as I plowed it straight into his nuts.

Or at least, where they should be, because it was becoming quite apparent that this asshole didn’t have any if he liked to prey on women like this.

The force of my kick caused him to instantly keel over, but as he did, he threw me backward. I braced myself, expecting to land straight on my ass, but instead, two arms wound around my body catching me as I stumbled.

They were covered in tattoos. Brightly colored tattoos, with no free space to be seen.

“Well, I guess I didn’t get to save you from that ugly bastard, but I did save you from hitting the ground. Does that give me bonus points?” His mouth was right next to my ear and as he spoke his breath tickled my neck. I shuddered and quickly found myself propped up on my own two feet. “Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for.” He chuckled.

I spun around, my feet almost catching on one another. He reached out once again to steady me and I managed to get a good look at his face. He had a beard that covered his jawline, strange to see on someone who seemed so young, but sexy none the less. A black beanie covered his head, but it was the cut he wore that stood out the most.

Shaking my head while trying to clear my thoughts, I apologized, “Sorry. That was intense.” I looked back at the man who’d had a hold of me. He was managing to claw his way across the floor, heading in the direction of the men’s room.

“Hate assholes like that.” The guy with the tattoos snorted. “Fucking bastard.”

I rubbed at my arm, it was tender and I knew there’d be bruising later.

“Thanks,” I told him, letting it hang in the air.

“Skins,” he offered, I knew right away it was a road name.

“Are you okay, honey?” I realized suddenly that I was standing right outside the booth where club members were seated. Jackie—I remembered they had referred to her as—was looking up at me worriedly.

I needed to get out of there fast. “Yeah, sorry for disturbing you guys,” I rambled.

“You didn’t disturb us,” Skins said, raising an eyebrow. “We ain’t gonna sit and let some fuckhead treat a girl that way. But like I said, you seemed to have saved yourself so my superhero duties will have to wait for another day.” He winked at me and I couldn’t help but laugh. Skins was attractive. His brightly colored tattoos stood out like a beacon against his white shirt and black leather cut. They were distracting and mesmerizing, completely different to what you’d expect to find on a biker.

“Thank you, for saving me from a broken ass,” I told him with a smile.

His grin widened. “It’s just so pretty. To see it broken would be a crime.” I shook my head as I turned away from the group. “See you round?” he called after me.

“Maybe,” I threw back over my shoulder as I made a hasty exit.

Adrenaline powered through my veins as I climbed the staircase to my room. I was on the fifth floor and even then I was still pumping with energy.

I had a small bit of information now. Information that I could either ignore or use. If I chose to ignore, I would simply pick up my papers tomorrow from the college and be on my way home. Home, I’m not even sure that’s what it was. Athens always felt more like home than any other place I’d been since my mother died.

The other option was stay. Stay and try to use what I’d just learned to make some kind of difference. Listening to the pain in Jackie’s voice, I knew she needed someone to help. And if the Brothers by Blood were in on this, then they needed someone too.

I wandered into the bathroom and placed both hands on the vanity. Staring at myself in the mirror had been a hard thing for me to do when I was here last. Because I knew that I wasn’t the person who was looking back at me. I’d turned into someone else and had let myself be transformed into something else. It was only now that I was starting to see the reflection of the real me looking back. She wasn’t all there, but there were little bits and pieces emerging again.

I wanted her back. I wanted to see myself reflected back at me.

And if that’s what I wanted, then I needed to fight for her and prove that she was still here.

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