Page 6

Anger rained over the man's face. “I don't have to do shit. Get me my drink and we won't have any problems.” He spoke through gritted teeth, lips thin and pulled back tight.

“You can get the hell out if you're going to talk to me that way,” she huffed, pointing towards the door.

She's feisty, I like that.

A woman who doesn't take shit, now that's a fucking turn on.

I watched the man cautiously, taking in his presence. He was a big guy, long hair pulled back tight against his head in a pony tail. His muscles bulged through the tight v-neck shirt, veins pulsing down his neck as he spoke. “Didn't I just tell you to get me my fucking drink? If you know what's good for you, you'll turn your little ass around, and do your job.” His finger raised close to her face, bouncing with intimidation.

Who the fuck is this guy?

My blood began to boil the more he disrespected her. I wasn't going to just sit by and let this asshole talk to her like that.

I didn't come here looking for a fight, but that didn't mean I wouldn't welcome one with open arms.

As much as I wanted to have my way with her, a woman still deserved respect. I didn't care who it was, no man would ever talk to a girl like that while I was around.

I wouldn't stand for it.

“Look, Nico, I don't know who you think you are, but you can't just go around here barking orders. I'm not your fucking dog, maybe you should remember who you work for.” Cadence's words held weight. If they could have held form, they would have been razors to slice him apart.

It was obvious, and she didn't hide it; Cadence hated that guy. It didn't take a psycho-therapist to figure that one out.

The man's lip curled to one side, his body leaning in close, hovering over the bar. His image reflected back over the glossy lacquer of the wood, and he looked too comfortable displaying the dominance he thought he had. “I'm going to tell you one more time. I want my drink and I want it now. You have one fucking job to do, Cadence. Don't make this more difficult for yourself.” His mangled fingers gripped the edge fiercely, knuckles whitening as the blood drained from inside.

Is he trying to intimidate her?

No, this ends now. She's had enough.

And so have I.

Picking up my glass, the alcohol flooded my throat. With a quick grimace it was down, and I was standing. A deep inhale of stale air filled my lungs, legs moving forward without a second thought.

“Who the—”

Cutting off Cadence's words, I stepped in, holding an arm up. “Is this guy bothering you?” I asked, my chest puffed out, arms rigid and flexing as the adrenaline began to surge.

The man turned to his buddies behind him as he spoke. “Really? Mind your own business, Asshole, this doesn't involve you.” His eyes slowly reconnected to mine, a deep laugh rolling outwards into my face.

A bubbling anger inflamed my gut as I glared into the emotionless eyes of the predator before me. Instinctively, I clenched my fingers by my sides, nails burying so deeply into my palms, I was sure blood would soon trickle off the knuckles.

“Quinn, don't, you don't need to do this. Let me just handle it. You don't know this guy.” Her voice was sincere, trying to coax me out of my stance. Bringing her hand up to rest it on my shoulder, she squeezed.

The small touch lit me on the insides, cementing my need to have her, to keep her safe. And I liked that feeling there, it gave me a sense of meaning, of knowing that I was doing the right thing.

I wasn't someone who backed down, and this motherfucker had just woken up a piece of my past I vowed to keep hidden.

“Yes, I do have to do this,” I said, never breaking eye contact with him. “You need to leave.” Each word fell strong against my tongue, layered in angered emotion.

Cadence had called him Nico. She knew the man that had so wrongly talked down to her, who disrespected her with such ease. And that made me hate him even more.

Regardless, Nico made the mistake of doing that in front of me.

The two guys with him covered their mouths and laughed feverishly. As if that was supposed to scare me off... Fuck that.

One of the men in a black leather jacket hit Nico in the shoulder while barking, “Take him out, Nico.” I noticed his nose was slightly askew on his face, his smile a gaping hole of broken teeth as he nudged his friend forward.

His broken grin held a familiar comfort, it was a face I had seen countless times before. Busted, damaged, and happy to have that mask; a fighter for sure.