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The man, whose name I still don’t know, starts to scream in pain, but Nero moves closer, crowding into the stall, and clamps his non-knife hand around the man’s throat, once again cutting off his air and stifling his sounds.
Eyes rolling, the man tries to reach for his damaged arm with his good one. Accepting the offered limb, I grab that wrist too.
He tries to shake his head, because he knows what’s coming next, but no amount of pleading or begging would stop me.
I force his arm straight and grip his elbow, his other arm worthless in the fight against me. “You deserve to die for touching what’s mine. Consider this a kindness.”
Then, with faster movement than he deserves, I snap his second elbow backwards.
The cracking vibrates up my arms, filling me with satisfaction.
Nero’s whistling drops to a low note before he drops his hand and fakes a shiver. “Man, I felt that crack though his neck.”
“Makes us even for that pinky finger,” I tell Nero, who only snorts in response.
Then, because the fucker deserves it, I knee the man as hard as I can in the balls.
As he gasps for air, I shove his hunched over form onto the toilet.
To make sure he hears what I say next, I bend down until I’m right in his face. “I know you’re going to want revenge. And I know you think your brother will be able to help you. But he can’t. Because we are The Alliance. And we own this fucking city.”
* * *
When we stepout of the bathroom, I notice Nero’s hung anout of ordersign on the door, but I don’t have the patience to ask him where the fuck he found it.
I need to get back to Savannah.
I need my wife.
CHAPTER60
Savannah
“Here we go!”Payton hurries back to the table, where Aspen and I have been standing in silence, with a trio of tall shot glasses filled to the brim with a red liquid.
My sister-in-law takes one and I tentatively take the other.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I think she called it a Red Snapper.” Payton shrugs. “I just asked for something strong we could slam that tasted good.”
I glance in the direction that King and Nero went, but they only disappeared a minute ago and there’s been no sign of them since.
I really don’t know why I got so emotional. It’s not like it was the first time I’ve been groped by a man––The time at that wedding. The time at the house party. The twenty times in a bar. The time working at the campus bookstore in college––but this one, it just made me think of every time. And how every time I’ve just had to grin and bear it. Because I never had someone to go to for comfort. Even past boyfriends, I’d never tell them. Because what would be the point? What would they do about it?
The image of King staring at me, head tipped to the side, eyes filled with vengeance, will forever be seared into my heart.
I don’t know what he’s going to do, but he’s not doing nothing.
King would never just do nothing.
A shot glass moves in my periphery, and I find Aspen holding hers out towards me.
The fact that I didn’t even need to explain the situation says so much. And it makes me so mad. That even us, this trio of unlikelies, we all have this in common.
Because all women have this in common.
Aspen holds my gaze, “To having dangerous men on our side.”
