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There was some shuffling inside and footsteps growing louder, a low grumble joining them. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” The door pulled open, Emmett’s eyes meeting mine and instantly growing wide just a moment before he tried to force the door closed again.
I slammed my foot forward and leaned in, driving my shoulder into it and sending it flying open again, banging back against the wall behind it while Emmett stumbled back. I stepped inside, letting the door swing shut behind me, the silence making the soft click almost deafening.
Emmett stood at the other end of the short hallway. There was a door leading to a bathroom to the left, and behind him, the room opened into a small space with enough room for a king bed, small sofa, and two nightstands, not to mention a window overlooking the Las Vegas strip.
I didn’t need to walk in, though what I needed to say could be said from right here. “Go home,” I ordered sternly, instantly earning me a reaction. Emmett stood a little taller, and his nostrils flared. The bastard obviously didn’t enjoy being told what to do. “It’s in your best interest to get the hell out ofmytown and stay the hell away frommyfiancée.”
“In my best interest?” he repeated, his lip curled as he shook his head. “Yourfiancéekilled my brother.Stabbed him. And she just gets to move on with her life?”
“Yes! She fucking does,” I roared, taking a step toward him. “Your brother deserved everything he fucking got for how he beat her, manipulated her, and tore her away from her family.”
Emmett’s chest was heaving, his breathing heavy and deep. There was no doubt he was having trouble controlling his anger.
“You’re just like him, aren’t you, Emmett?” I taunted as his hands curled into fists, and he narrowed his eyes like he was sizing me up, aligning the target. But I didn’t stop. “You hate the idea of a woman getting the better of you, you hate not feeling like the manliest person in the room, and you hate seeing a woman who should be weak, scared, and submissive finally stand up and say, fuck that.”
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he roared, edging forward, his breathing more erratic now, less controlled.
I chuckled, pushing those buttons a little harder. “Actually, I do. I’ve met plenty of guys with small dicks and big egos who thi—”
He came at me.
Fast and furious but not at all controlled.
Which is why it was easy to dodge his swing, and because he’d put so much force behind it, he couldn’t stop himself once he was moving so he continued forward, hitting the door behind me fucking hard.
I grabbed his arm before he could turn around, pulling it up behind his back while I pressed against his shoulder with my other hand. He wiggled and squirmed, but I simply pulled a little harder, forcing his arm into a position that had him screaming out in pain before I loosened it, and he stopped struggling. “Good boy,” I taunted, my voice low and even. I knew that would make him more furious, knowing I wasn’t at all fazed by his little act of dramatics. “Now you’re going to listen to me, and you’re going to listen very… fucking… carefully.”
This was me being smart about the situation just like Dad had suggested. Though, I wasn’t sure me going to his hotel room and throwing him around was what my dad had in mind.
“Fuck you,” he cursed, baring his teeth.
I pulled him back for a second before slamming him hard, face-first back into the door. “I said listen, motherfucker,” I hissed, grabbing a fist full of his hair and pulling it back before driving it again into the solid wooden door, the tension in his body giving way slightly.
When I was sure he was done trying to be the bigger man, I finally spun him around and shoved him back against the door, fisting his shirt in my hand. With a split lip and blood smeared across his teeth, he stared me down.
I had to give him credit.
Though I figured the dark glare probably wasn’t strength as much as it was stupid.
“You’re gonna leave Cassie alone,” I told him, tightening my grip on his shirt. “You’re gonna go home, you’re gonna bury your brother, and you’re gonna move on with your life.”
“And why the fuck would—
“Because if you don’t, I’ll make it so you wish you didn’t have one,” I whispered, getting right up in his face. I didn’t need to yell or scream abuse to get my point across. “If you continue to come for my woman, I’m going to make your life a living hell. I’m going to take your business. I’m going to take your home. I’m going to take your car and your parents’ home and farm they just remortgaged to build that brand new shed. The one you’re meant to inherit.”
“You can’t d—”
“Then, I’m going to take your reputation,” I cut in, knowing that bastards with egos like his, possessions weren’t always the part that hurt them. “I’m going to post pictures of what your brother did to Cassie all through your town. I’m gonna print them in your newspaper and play them nightly on your fucking news stations until everyone you know has seen the way he treated her, the beatings she took, the bruises and broken bones and fucking concussions that could’ve left permanent damage.”
He wasn’t talking anymore.
No running his mouth.
No trying to fight to be the bigger, stronger man.
Because he knew he wasn’t.
“And to top it off, I’m going to make sure everyone knows you just stood to the side and let him do it.” I stepped back, finally releasing him.
