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Marcus leaned in closer, his lip brushing her ear before he whispered. “He’ll be too busy fucking his new bimbo to notice anything we’re doing.”
She winced before she stopped herself, wanting to reel back, wanting to smack this smug bastard across the face, and not stop smacking him until he left Maynard’s and Harlow altogether.
Her stomach roiled, and she clenched her fingers on the tabletop, forcing herself to stay and pretend what he said didn’t bother her.
Even then, her gaze unintentionally slipped to Ally. Sarah had made her brother a promise. As archaic and ridiculous as his request had been, he’d warned her about looking out for this very thing. Maybe there was something about Ally that he knew and she didn’t, or maybe he was more of a knuckle-dragging caveman than she’d ever figured, and his warning was based purely on possessiveness. Either way, nothing about this situation seemed right, and warning or not, she would never stand aside without trying to stop a looming wreckage such as the one staring back at her now.
“You see, the problem is”—she slid her hand forward and grabbed Marcus’s wrist, digging her fingers hard into his overly soft flesh—“I have a few extra years on you, and I don’t think this would be an even exchange.”
His pupils spread to wide pools, and his face lost color. Her terse tone was not lost on his privilege-addled brain since he twisted his wrist and tried unsuccessfully to break free of her grip.
So, she pulled him closer, adding to his misery and whispering in his ear. “Not so fast. I’m not finished.”
She’d spent her teen years training to return two-hundred-mile-per-hour serves, then her years working the bar, and her efforts maintaining strength through exercise. All these things buoyed her decision to grip tighter, to level a threat this dirtbag might comprehend. “That ‘bimbo’ your friend is with, is my friend. If I hear even the slightest complaint about how she’s treated tonight, I’ll make sure the meanest people in these parts find you and your buddy and break all your legs and other appendages. Understand?”
No one in Harlow actually ran around breaking pieces off other people, but Marcus wouldn’t know that. And still, her thoughts switched to Dean since, for some reason, she could imagine him being really good at hunting people down and breaking legs.
Marcus pulled at his wrist again, his nose wrinkled in a disgusted sneer. “What the fuck is wrong with you, woman?”
She let him go now but patted him on the cheek just to return his condescension from earlier. “I mean it. Be a good boy now, okay?”
Marcus’s friend rose from his chair, the legs releasing a high-pitched scraping against Maynard’s old boards. “Is mega bitch here laying down the law?”
“Yeah.” Marcus jutted his chin out at her. “Seems she doesn’t like you hooking up with her friend.”
Ally rose and wrapped her arm around the blond guy, her glare burning into Sarah, like she was an embarrassing parent scaring away the cool kids. Somehow, Ally looked angrier than Marcus. Then again, she’d hadn’t heard what Marcus had said about her earlier.
“Your friend here has issues.” Blondie scowled down at Ally before shaking his arm and pushing her away.
Her taut look of panic dropped to slack disbelief. “But I thought—”
Blondie rolled his blue eyes and marched over to Sarah, poking his forefinger into the hard plate just below her collarbone. “If you knew who we are, you wouldn’t be threatening us. One word to my dad, and I’ll have this whole shitty backwater flattened.” He scoffed and peered down at her in disgust. “This sad excuse of a bar will be the first to go.”
Despite the pain from where his finger stabbed at her, she drew herself taller and rolled her shoulders back.
“You’re really leading with the, ‘I’m gonna tell my daddy’ approach?” She slapped his hand away, the action designed to highlight the weakness in the toffee-nosed brat’s threat. “And over what, some small-town girl insulting your feelings? I’m sure your poor dad, whoever the hell he is, lost hope in you years ago.”
“Sarah!” Ally’s cry broke the moment, and she squeezed in between the action. “What are you doing?”
Blondie’s face paled from its angry shade of red, the muscle twitching along his jaw easing too. His mouth lifted to a toothy grin while he pulled his gaze from Sarah and onto Ally. “You’re right, honey. What are we doing? You and this crazy bitch aren’t worth our time. Enjoy your days milking cows in shitty paddocks, or whatever the fuck you hicks do. We’re outta here.”
Before he left, he took a second to shake his head at Ally in a pitying sort of gesture, Marcus laughing and trailing behind him on their way out of Maynard’s.
A slow minute ticked over and Sarah watched Ally, her eyes sparkling and her thick eyelashes batting back tears. She took two quick steps as if to follow the boys, but Sarah lunged forward and grabbed Ally’s elbow. “No. Stay.”
Ally swung around, the tears winning out and streaking down her face. “You don’t get it, do you? You had no right to interfere.”
“If you’d heard what that boy said…” Sarah clapped her spare hand onto Ally’s shoulder, pleading for her to listen. “Besides, they insulted me too.”
Ally shook Sarah off in a flurry of weak slaps. “Unlike you, not everyone wants the hermit life.”
Sarah drew back, an ache hitting her square in the chest. Sure, she had a reputation for keeping to herself, but she’d spared Ally a likely horrible night, hadn’t she? She peered around her, at the dozen or so patrons still staring at her, this whole public scene defying her comfort zone.
Maybe Ally’s frustration didn’t make all that much sense, but there wasn’t any point talking this out in the heat of the moment. So, she eased back farther, nodding and conceding defeat as Ally turned her tear-streaked face and stormed away.
