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I saw the security guards rush over then, grabbing the drunk guy, hauling him out as he cursed loudly.
My heart was hammering, pounding in my chest. Sweet was so tall, so powerful, so close to me, just standing glaring at the man being hauled out. I could hear her loud, ragged breathing.
“Finish theset,” I hissed at her, worrying it would make Tress feel more conspicuous to cancel the whole show.
“Are you OK?” Sweet asked me, and I was surprised when she turned to me, hands feeling my face gently, trying to see where I had been hit.
“I’m fine, I’m fine!” I insisted. “I’ve had worse injuries getting in between Schwarb and the vending machine getting refilled.”
But then she saw the drunk guy turn around, and to my horror I felt her go forward, like she was going to follow him, and I grabbed her arm.
“Sweet, for god’ssake, just finish the set,” I said through gritted teeth.
“I’m not dancing any more tonight,” she said. She still had a tight grip on me, and I had no clue why.
“OK, he’s gone,” I said, twisting in her grip, but she hauled me beside her out to the quieter hallway, and I heard her yell for the security guards.
They rushed up anxiously. Je Sweet towered over all of them.
“Why thefuckis El doing the security for this club?” she asked, and you could have heard a pin drop in the hallway.
Sweet tapped her feet in those tall cream boots and they suddenly stumbled all over each other to protest that they didn’t know, they hadn’t heard, they would have been over if they had seen Tress in distress.
She dismissed them angrily and walked with me to the First Aid station. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take you to the ER?” she asked.
“Sweet, what’s gotten into you?” I said wonderingly. “I’m fine!”
“Stay here and get checked out at least,” she said, knocking for the nurse. “I’ll be right back.”
I submitted to a quick check-up, even though I knew perfectly well I was fine.
But I knew I should have been more vigilant when I saw Maria come up to me.
“Where’s Sweet?” she asked.
Shit.
I knew exactly where she would have gone.
I raced outside, knocking into every wall on the way out.
My gut instinct had been right.
Sweet was out there in front of the club, beating the shit out of the patron who had hit me.
14
JE SWEET
Iknew he’d still be hanging around outside. Drunk jackasses like that never know when they’ve been beat.
There are other people around at the tables, drinking cocktails, some of them taking video with their phones, but I don’t give a shit.
The occasional harassing asshole patron is part of the job, but this is different.
This guy hit Elowyn, and I just can’t let that go.
Nobody fucking messes with Elowyn but me. No onetouchesElowyn but me.
