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I do it again, this time hurting myself more than him.
He backs up and then bounces forward, ready for war. I clench my eyes shut in fear, knowing that I am no challenge, bracing myself for what he thinks I deserve. I scream as a reflex, cowering and trembling, attempting to shield my face.
Arms bind around me in a death grip, making my eyes flash open. I do not need to look to see who has me trapped in his arms; the woodsy citrus smell tells my brain that Graham has me safely cocooned. “Don’t move,” he orders, muttering a string of curse words under his breath. Something flies past my head in a flutter. The sound of a boxing bag getting beat is what enlightens me to the fact that Graham hit the man who was threatening me. His venomous voice toward the man causes shivers to pulse up my spine. Graham is in full rage mode. This is very different from all of the Mark Tanner encounters, where he reined in his anger and was just moody.
“We are going to do things my way,” he growls at me, making me shrivel at the intensity of his sharp tone. “Quit moving!”
Graham continues to hold me around my waist, bulldozing through the crowd with ease. Apparently his scowl and bad mood are evident to those around us to the point where they just submit and part ways to create a path. My feet do not even touch the floor as I am zipped through the crowd, until we reach the side metal door to the outside.
Once the air hits us, Graham sets me down on my feet but does not let go of my elbow. He steers me toward the black Mercedes-Benz. “Get in.”
I turn to him. “Are you insane?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going back to get my friends,” I scream as soon as I am able to catch my breath.
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am!”
A group of girls exit the same door we did, huddle into a circle, and light up cigarettes.
“Get in the fucking car, Angie. I swear to God I am at my wit’s end with you.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Coming from the girl who just hit a guy twice her size?” he asks. “What were you thinking? He could have hurt you. Then what?” His glare says everything that his mouth doesn’t. He’s furious with me. But why? Why does he care so much? I am not his responsibility. Actually, I am not anyone’s responsibility.
“He deserved it,” I defend quietly, staring down at Claire’s damaged shirt. I will try to sew it and add more sequins. If that doesn’t work, I’ll just have to try to buy her another. Hopefully it is a recent one that can be ordered online. I smooth out the ruffled gray skirt, still feeling the perv’s hands on my butt. Maybe I am crazy.
“Not arguing that. But seriously, Angie, are you trying to get yourself killed? The thought of what could have happened if I wasn’t there to…” Graham stops midsentence and shakes his head as if to remove the worst-case scenario from his brain. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you. That’s all.”
“What happens if he calls the cops?”
“He won’t.”
“Why the hell not?” I press. “You assaulted him.”
From my periphery, I see Collins make his way through the exit of the building, talking into the air at no one in particular. It is then that I see the communication device in his ear. He gives Graham a nod as they exchange looks before finding his seat in the front of the vehicle.
“Because having the police show up will blow his fake ID cover.”
“Oh,” I mouth.
Collins must have found the guy and checked his wallet for identification—just in case he was planning to try to come after Graham.
I shiver in the night’s air. My exposed parts of my arms sprout goose bumps. What was I thinking not bringing a coat?
Graham opens the door to the backseat, pushing me gently to get inside. I do not budge. “Please, Angie, let me take you home.”
“I have a DD.”
“We are not going back inside that dive.”
“Too seedy for you?” I joke to try to lighten the mood and melt away some of the tension.
Graham’s chuckle is music to my ears. “Something like that. Now get inside before I have to put you in this car myself. And Angie?” He stares into my soul. “I will do it if you keep pushing me. Another mistake you can make tonight is underestimating me.”
