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She doesn’t listen; she jumps to her feet and tries to grab my hand. "Come on! Let’s go!”
I barely hear her as the guy who'd sent the security guards after her steps out of a room and eyes me.
"Are you the owner here?"
"Who wants to know?"
“The person who is going to beat your ass for trying to grab my girlfriend here.”
"Your girlfriend needs to be taught a lesson. She shouldn't be trying to kidnap my employees. And now I've lost a worker and I need a replacement. Your girlfriend looks like she's going to do very well, I hope she likes it rough."
The blood thudding through my ears sends a surge of adrenaline to my muscles and I charge for him.
Someone else grabs my arm and swings me against the wall, and I bounce off it, winded.
My bodyguard charges forward with his shoulder, ramming at the one who attacked me. I run to catch up with the club owner disappearing back into his office; I get there just in time and shove the door open.
"I don’t like it when men exploit women. And I especially don’t like it when men rough up my girlfriend." My voice sounds foreign to my ear. And then I jump over the table he’s hiding behind like a little bitch and wrap my arm around his neck, throwing him to the ground.
There's a ferocious banging outside, and a loud yell, but I can’t focus on that right now. My anger blurs my vision, but not enough to stop me slamming my fist into the club owner's face over and over. My knuckles feel like they’re cauterizing, layers of skin ripping off each time I smash his face. Through the red haze, I can hear him splutter, spitting blood. I roar as I lay into him, my height an advantage as I twist his arm and shove him to the ground, pressing my knee into the back of his neck while I twist his leg until there's a sickening crunch.
He screams and it thrills me.
"Don't ever fucking look at my girlfriend again, or I will break every fucking bone in your body."
“Just fucking try. She's never going to set foot into a single club in Hong Kong again," he says just as Kiara shows up at the door, a scratch on her face stoking the rage in me again
I slam my foot down on his hand, feeling his fingers break under my shoe.
She listens to him scream and then runs in to grab my hand, pulling me out the door. "Come on, let’s go!"
I look back just once to see him cradling his hand, crumpled on the ground in a bloody mess.
Behind us the bodyguards follow, barely touched.
"Go, I've got this," I yell to them and I watch them jump into their cars but don’t leave, following orders to make sure that we’re okay.
Frank has trained them well.
Kiara and I run until we reach the car and before I can open the door for her, she swings her arm, her hand connecting with my face in a stinging slap.
"What the fuck was that about?" she shouts at me, her face a confused mess of emotions.
"What? You were in trouble! I was helping!" I yell out of surprise from being attacked when I was just trying to help her.
"I had it under control!"
She’s got to be kidding, did she hit her head and just forget what happened? "Kiara! They had grabbed you!"
"It's not the first time! They take me back to their offices and rough me up a bit, but I always make it out. Always!”
The realization that this is not the first time that some sleazy club owner has had his goonie lay his hands on her makes all the anger from before coming flooding back to the fore.
“Kiara! That is not acceptable! Getting roughed up on a regular basis is not fucking normal!"
She storms off three steps and then comes back, a dark, furious cloud swirling around her head. “When have I ever told you that I want something normal? This is the job!" She points to the building and yells, "Now that bridge has been burned! I'm never going to be let in here again!”
"Good!"
