Page 244

He spun on his heel, facing them, and called out, “Hey, do you guys need some help?”

One of the guys snorted. “I think we can handle her.”

Carter had no doubt, which was precisely why he stepped closer. “She with you guys?”

One of the three, apparently sober and wary enough to give Carter a look, narrowed his eyes. “She is now.”

“You want in?” the third, arm around the woman’s waist, asked with a huge grin.

If his stomach hadn’t been turning before, it was at those words. There wasn’t much in life that disgusted him, but even he could still be bothered by the evil in the world.

Carter looked at the woman as she slumped, hair falling over her forehead. “She doesn’t look like she’s really in a place to be down for anything.”

“Seems fine to me,” the third said, still giving him an easy grin.

“What’s it matter to you?” the second, still suspicious, asked.

“Call me old-fashioned,” Carter said with a shrug. But I prefer my women, you know, conscious.”

Not strictly true. He hadn’t been with a woman since his fumbling attempts as a teenager, and after his more comfortable experience with a guy from the next town over, hadn’t bothered with the fairer sex since. Not that they needed to know that. The last thing he needed was to add fuel to a fire he was already helping to create.

“She can talk,” the first informed him.

“Is that what we’re calling it?” Carter asked.

He wasn’t surprised to see the second man’s suspicious gaze turn into a hard glare. “Move on, bud. This ain’t none of your concern.”

“See,” Carter said, wiping his hands on his jeans. “That’s where you’re wrong. To me, it looks like three guys taking advantage of some woman they dragged out of a bar because she was too drunk to put up a fight. That does make it my concern.”

The other two men, drunk as they were, realized there was a problem larger than getting the drunk woman into their backseat. The man holding her released his hold, letting her slump against the car limply so he could turn. Now he had all three men’s attention. Carter wondered if there was any chance of getting out of this withoutsomeoneending up bloody.

And found he didn’t care all that much, even looked forward to it.

“I think you should fuck off,” the second man told him, voice low and dangerous.

“Funny, I was going to tell you the same thing,” Carter said.

Their advance was slow, but they were moving forward, separating to cover him from three angles. Carter kept his breathing even, feeling the initial hard thump of his heart in anticipation before he also calmed that. Fights were won by the one most intent on winning and the one in the most control.

He wasn’t surprised when they lunged forward, going for the first blow, confident in their numbers.

It wouldn’t be their last mistake of the night.

MARCO

Music pulsed through his body, vibrating down to his feet. Lights flashed a kaleidoscope of color and piercing white light. The smell of alcohol and cologne assaulted his nostrils. Most prominent was the sharp tang of spicy cologne belonging to the lithe blond practically hanging off him.

Pulse was the liveliest gay-friendly club in Port Dale. He didn’t go clubbing as much as when he was younger, but when the itch came, he was willing to scratch it. Which was precisely why Marco had a good-looking man with an arm slung around his shoulders trying to shout something over the music.

“What?” Marco called, head pleasantly fuzzy from the drinks.

The man, whose name Marco remembered was Kevin, leaned closer to yell into his ear. “You want to get out of here?”

A phrase that was universally understood. Marco grinned, knocking back the rest of his drink and setting it aside. Neither of them was going to be driving anytime soon, based on the amount of alcohol they’d been consuming. Marco had planned for that, though, so he’d elected to catch a ride to Pulse and would order one to get home, with his current company or not. Or to leave the other man’s house later.

Marco nodded, pushing away from the bar with the blond close on his heels. Having already anticipated they were getting close to leaving, Marco had already closed his tab and safely stowed the card in his wallet.

They stumbled out of the dense warmth of the club and into the cleaner, cooler night air. In the other man’s case, literally stumbling as he stepped wrong. Marco caught him, hooking an arm around his waist.