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He thrust Adam away from him, and Adam staggered sideways, almost comically, before regaining his footing. Rubbing his neck and gasping for air, he doubled over heaving in rasping breaths. Hands braced against his knees, he glared up at Hope.
“You’ll pay for this, you lying fucking bitch. You fucking ruined my life, you cheating who—”
Before he could finish the word, something snapped inside of her, and she hadn’t realized she’d moved until her fist collided with Adam’s face. Fury tore through her in red hot bolts of rage. Three years of carefully hidden anger, pain, and resentment flooded out of her in a flurry of violence she didn’t even know she was capable of.
“You son-of-a-bitch,” she shrieked, as she hit and clawed and kicked anywhere and everywhere on Adam that she could make contact with. She pulled out every move she’d ever learned at the kickboxing classes she’d taken. Her knee came up full force to Adam’s groin, and she heard his satisfying groan of pain as he fell to his knees. She continued her attack, not caring that he was down.
She heard herself scream unintelligible words as memories intertwined with reality feeding a storm inside of her—filling her with a power she could’ve never imagined. She wanted nothing more than for Adam to finally pay for all the hurt he and his friends had caused, all the lies they’d told.
Behind her, steady arms wrapped around her waist, dragging her away from Adam. She protested, struggling against the force, but it was too persistent, too… calming. A familiar voice, deep and steady, rumbled in her ear.
“Hope. Sweetheart. Come with me.” Gabe’s words broke through her rage.
She felt her body being spun around, away from Adam and closer to the warm and reassuringly firm wall of Gabe’s chest. He held her there, cradling her body to his, as she struggled to catch her breath.
“Go inside,” Sean instructed from beside them, his baritone voice controlled but also lethal. “I’ll deal with the trash.”
She glanced up from Gabe’s chest in time to glimpse Sean giving Gabe a hard, level look that must have communicated something between them, because Gabe responded with a curt nod before he glared down at her. His eyes were dark and his mouth was set in a grim line.
And Hope knew—now that Adam had been handled like the trash that he was—her own time of reckoning had come.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
Grabbing Hope’s hand, Gabe pulled her into the pub, dragged her past all the partygoers—who paid them no attention, having apparently already forgotten about the evening’s excitement—and down the hall where he pushed her, not too gently, into his office.
He shut and locked the door, then spun to face her.
“What. The. Hell.” He growled.
She had to agree. From where she was standing, it truly did feel like hell all over again. Lost for anything to say, she wrapped her arms around herself. Her body still shook from the whole encounter, and she needed to get her emotions under control for what was still coming.
She’d known that the past would eventually catch up with her. She just hadn’t expected to be confronted by it in the flesh. Seeing Adam had shaken her more than she could have imagined.
Gabe inhaled deeply, shutting his eyes for a long moment, and she realized he was struggling for control, too. When his eyes opened again, he seemed more composed, his anger in check.
Slowly, he moved toward her and gently placed both hands on her shoulders. He took one final step into her space and dropped his forehead to touch hers. The connection was intimate—and soothing.
“You okay?” he whispered.
She nodded but didn’t unwrap her arms from around herself—afraid if she did, she’d completely unravel. She nodded again, hoping to convince herself. But there was no convincing anyone, so she shook her head slowly, letting the tremors starting inside her roll over her in waves.
“Not okay,” Gabe confirmed, as he wrapped his strong arms around her, rubbing his hands up and down the length of her spine.
He did this for several long minutes until his body heat seeped into hers, moving up through her back into her chest and down to her toes. Eventually, she unwrapped her arms from between them, and locked them around his waist, hanging on tightly, pressing into every part of him until she felt like they were one. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, rubbing her nose into the spot where his skin met the collar of his t-shirt.
Then and only then did she allow herself one long, shuddering sob.
* * *
Gabe held Hope tight. Considering he had no fucking clue what was going on, it was all he could do. What he did know was that he’d just watched Hope go batshit crazy on some evil fucker, and while he’d been confused as hell, not to mention terrified of her getting hurt, watching her pull out her moves had been pretty damn impressive.
She’d beat up that dirtbag pretty good, and he’d never felt prouder.
But none of that could erase the fact that something was very, very wrong. And neither of them was leaving this room until he found out what it was. Not that Hope looked like she was in the talking mood. A better man might have given her the time and space to recover from the confrontation before badgering her with questions, but his better side flew out the window the second he’d heard glass crashing in his bar and realized it’d come from her table.
When he’d approached and seen the barely veiled fear in Hope’s eyes, and a normally laid-back Sean in an offensive position, any thought of diplomacy or decency had gone right out the window. He’d almost choked a stranger with his bare hands inside and then outside his own goddamn bar. So whether it made him an asshole or not, he wanted—no, heneededto know what the hell was going on.
When he felt her body finally relax, he led her to the couch in his office. Then he gently hooked a finger under her chin and lifted her face until her dark gaze met his.
