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“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” The meathead lifted his arm and pointed at Zeke. “Get the fuck out of here and mind your own business before I beat the fucking shit out of you.”
In a flash, Zeke grabbed Mark’s wrist with one hand, his other hand shot up and wrapped around his throat, tightening until Mark gasped.
“What I mean is that I will fucking destroy you. And I don’t mean like this.” Zeke closed his grip, cutting off more air until Mark began to wheeze. “When I destroy you, it won’t be by beating your face to a pulp. It will be by pressing charges and then suing you for every goddamn thing in your miserable life.”
I sucked in a breath, my heart thudding wildly against my chest.
“I’ll start with the aggravated assault charges. I can tell you right now, as soon as you have that ‘attempted rape’ allegation attached to your name, the investors for that new gym you’re planning on opening will disappear faster than your dick did after taking so many steroids.” Mark jostled angrily against Zeke’s hold. “Speaking of steroids. Once Kenzie calls the police, and they get here and search your bag and your truck, we both know what they’re going to find. Possession of anabolic steroids is illegal. They’ll confirm it once they book you and make you piss in a cup. So that’s going to add another year on top of the three for aggravated assault.”
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Zeke. The way his voice was so calm. Yes, he had his hand around another man’s throat, but it was his words that were controlling Mark. As much as he struggled like he wanted to fight, I could see fear poking holes in his anger, realizing he hadn’t just picked some fight outside of a gym that would be handled with fists; he’d picked a fight with a man who was going to level him to the ground without lifting a finger.
“Four years, Mark. Minimum. And assuming you even make it out of jail, you’ll never have a career in fitness again. Not with the assault charge and the steroid use staining your reputation.”
Mark sputtered angrily, though it now appeared like he was trying to simply escape Zeke’s hold and his threats rather than wanting to fight back.
“So, here’s what’s going to happen,” Zeke said in a low voice. “I’m going to let go so some oxygen can go to your pea-sized brain, and then you’re going to decide if you are going to walk away from this place with your reputation intact and pretend like this never happened, or you’re going to come at me like the dumbass I’m tempted to think you are, we’ll get the police involved, and you’ll spend the rest of your life knowing I destroyed you and it was within your power to stop it.”
Zeke kept his hold steady for another second and then released Mark with a shove, sending him stumbling backward several feet away from the two of us.
Rage glittered in his eyes and his nostrils flared as Mark fought to catch his breath. His hunched over body and venomous expression reminded me of a bull stamping at the ground, ready to charge at the red flag.
My breath caught, and for a moment, I worried that none of what Zeke said mattered—that this guy was really that stupid.
But then he straightened, rubbed his neck, and shook his head. “You’re fucking insane,” he charged, yanking his bag from the ground.
“Keycard,” Zeke demanded flatly. “I’ll let Roy know you’re canceling your membership to the gym.”
Mark ripped his keycard off his bag and whipped it onto the ground.
“Bitch isn’t worth this,” he snarled and then stalked toward his lifted pickup truck.
Neither Zeke nor I moved as we watched the truck come to life and rip out of the parking lot like he had one last thing to prove. Only once he was out of sight did I let myself look over at Zeke, my throat feeling like there was a beach ball lodged in it.
He’d defended me.
I’d never been defended before.Certainly not by Stan, though he would argue differently.Stan only defended me when it was at no risk to himself; he defended me only when it made himself look better. But Zeke…
He’d risked himself to make sure Mark never bothered me again. I wasn’t a lawyer, but I knew that there were claims—charges—that could probably be made against Zeke that could damage his career. Maybe even risk his license.
But he’d risked all of that to protect me.
“Are you alright?” Zeke said with a low rumble.
He didn’t come closer. He didn’t reach out. He didn’t overstep a single boundary with me, and my chest ached wishing that he would.
“Yeah.” I tried to swallow. “He only grabbed my arm and not that hard.”
Zeke’s jaw flexed angrily, then mention of it still making him edgy even after Mark was gone.“Let me grab my stuff, and I’ll walk you back to the house.”
I glanced at my watch when he went inside. It was after curfew which meant that my security code for the door wouldn’t work, so Zeke would have to let me in. Not even thirty seconds later, he returned, his bag slung over his shoulder. He opened his mouth to say something, and a crack of thunder ripped through the sky.
Zeke’s gaze flicked up, and his expression hardened. “We should get moving.”
I followed his lead through the parking lot and onto Ocean Drive. When we reached the sidewalk there, the rain started to fall in heavy drops.
“Thank you,” I blurted out, afraid if I didn’t say it now, I wouldn’t get the chance.
“I knew he was going to try something the way he was watching you,” Zeke muttered, and I noticed how he didn’t accept my thanks.As though there was something more he should’ve done.
