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“Indie!” I bark as I make my way up there fast, only for the prick in the middle to get to his feet. He must be six foot four—slightly taller than me, and he’s stocky with it, but older; late thirties to my twenty-nine.
“What the hell gives you the right to say something so disgusting to me?!” she shouts as I suddenly want to carry her inside the restaurant myself and teach her a very explicit lesson about dangerous men that she won’t forget.
“Just a joke, sweetheart. Lighten up.” Dead man number one turns to his friend and smirks. “Or if it’s stress relief you’re after, you only have to ask nicely.”
“Yeah, we’ll take care of you,” smirks his balding fuck of a friend.
As I make it up to her, I pull her backwards, only for her to yank her arm away.
“I don’t need you fighting my battles!”
“God dammit,” I snarl. “You get into that fucking restaurant right now or I’ll drag you in there.”
“Get in line,” snickers one of the men as I pull her backwards and stand in front of her as the main prick takes a step towards me, eyeing me slowly up and down with the kind of enraged neanderthal stare that tells me he’s been begging for a fight all day. I catch a whiff of beer on his breath and realize it would be too fucking easy.
I’d happily take out the lot of them.
“Let me guess,” he snarls. “Our white knight.”
But before I can speak, I feel the touch of a hand on my arm. More than a touch. Indie grips it tightly with both hands, pulling me back.
“They’re not worth it,” she breathes as prick number one’s lips curve into some twisted smile.
I feel my hand tense into a fist, picturing me pushing her back so that I can cock my fist and break his fucking jaw into two. The other two are more wary; I can feel it. I’d still very much enjoy feeling their blood on my teeth.
Only I don’t want her to watch the warm blood spray from this guy’s neck, nor mine if I fuck up the timing, and something about the combination of the wife-beater shirt, the stench of beer and the way he’s eye-balling me makes me think he may have a switch-knife hidden in a pocket somewhere.
But fuck, every riotous cell in my body wants me to feast on this piece of shit’s flesh.
As she yanks on my arm harder, I think of her watching some vicious fight.
I don’t want that.
“You got lucky,” I snarl as she pulls me back.
“Oh yeah?” His lips contort into a heinous grin as he bares his teeth at me.
You haven’t seen anything…
“Stop!” Indie shouts.
I take a step back, eyeballing him as we retreat. This time it’s me who takes her by the arm, pulling her into the restaurant as I spot Gideon on the far left sitting on the roof-covered terrasse overlooking the pool straight ahead.
My body stiffens in rage as I think of her vulnerability in the face of those men. “You really need to start becoming more aware of the dangers around you,” I snap in frustration.
She stops dead in her tracks in the dimly-lit, empty part of the restaurant near the kitchen. “What the fuck isthatsupposed to mean?”
I turn to find her grave eyes searching mine, watching her slim arms tense as if to conceal her outrage.
“I mean that as a woman, it’s important to be aware of yourfuckingsurroundings.”
I know I’m being an asshole but between her reckless dive into the rip tide, her habit of cycling in front of cars, and the psycho ex now on her tail, I have a feeling this girl isn’t aware of how fucking dangerous life can be for someone as small and vulnerable as her.
“Are you blaming me for those braindead troglodytes?!”
“I’m not blaming you, but maybe scan your fucking surroundings before bending down in front of a group of drunken men dressed like…that.”
My eyes roam down her barely concealed body.
