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He gave a short laugh. “After abandoning her. Nope.”
“I’m not leaving this bar without her.”
“Look, lady, Corey said get lost. You don’t want Brick to say the same thing because then you’ll really be in trouble.” Then Tamara, if she heard correctly, snapped her attention at the man holding Amelie. Brick? Ricky? She had no clue what the guy’s name was. “Give her to me like I told Corey. He might need you.”
“What’s going on?”
Tamara rolled her eyes. “His past coming to bite him in his ass, what else? Brick, I told you he was bad news.”
“As much as I love you like you’re family, watch what you say to me about my brother, Tamara.”
Dang. Tamara was right. She didn’t want to tussle with Brick. The sharp bite in his tone said he wasn’t messing around. But would he physically hurt a woman? Because she could handle any verbal thing he threw her way. Hell, she could handle him physically, too. Her brothers taught her self-defense. She could knock a man to his feet with finesse—most of the time. She didn’t always win when she sparred with her brothers, but she’d say there was about a fifty-fifty chance she could take them. That was better than nothing.
Noise from the back had them all directing their attention that way.
“See. I knew it.” Tamara shook her head.
Brick pulled a baseball bat from underneath the bar and looked at her. “Corey said to leave, you best leave. Amelie isn’t going anywhere with you. You should’ve thought about the consequences when you abandoned her.” Then he looked at Tamara. “Do your job. I’ll handle whatever that is.”
“With Amelie?”
Yeah, she had to agree. He couldn’t possibly be bringing the baby back there to whatever mess was going on. Knowing Corey, nothing good. The exact reason she was here was to take Amelie home. To a safe, loving environment.
“Mind your business while I mind my bar.”
Then he walked around the counter with one hand on Amelie’s back and a baseball bat in the other.
Shit.
This didn’t go the way she’d planned at all.
Corey might’ve won this battle.
But he wouldn’t win the war.
2
“You better get your hands off my brother right now.”
Corey didn’t move when he heard the wonderful sound of his brother’s voice. Not because he was afraid of what Ricky might do. But because he was pinned against the wall by a guy much, much larger than him. His hand was around his neck, making it quite difficult to breathe. Of course, he was trying like hell to act like he wasn’t affected by the hostility.
“Get lost.”
Corey didn’t flinch or react in any way when the guy increased the pressure on his neck. Though a muffled groan might’ve slipped out, making the guy smirk that he knew he was hurting him.
“You have two seconds to let go of my brother before I swing this baseball bat.”
Shit.
The last thing they both needed was a fight in their bar. Getting arrested. Another mark against his record.
Losing his daughter—potentially—if that so-called woman claiming to be her mother took him to court.
“One. Tw—” Ricky counted, stopping when the guy released him and took a step back, turning toward Ricky.
Corey’s eyes bulged when he saw Ricky holding Amelie. What the hell was he thinking bringing her back here?
“You want to take on your brother’s shit? Fine. Jones wants his money by tonight. When I come back, you’ll need more than a baseball bat to make me leave.” Then the guy swiveled around and walked out the back door with two other unsavory men trailing him.
