Page 91 of Thiago

“This ain’t no damn parking lot!” another person yelled.

He ignored the commotion and took long strides toward India and Simon, his eyes zeroed in on where the doctor gripped her arm so she couldn’t get away.

“I said, let go of me!” India yelled, pushing at Simon and simultaneously trying to yank her arm out of his grasp.

“Hey!” Thiago yelled.

Both India and Simon swung their heads in his direction.

“Thiago!” she said with relief.

Simon’s face twisted with annoyance.

“Let her go,” Thiago said.

“What is your problem? You’re just her boss.”

“I said, let her go.” Thiago stopped just a few feet away from them, his body tense as he barely restrained the urge to hit the guy.

“Get the hell out of here. She doesn’t need you!” Simon shoved Thiago in the middle of the chest.

Thiago snapped.

His fist whipped out and connected with Simon’s jaw. A clean, sharp jab that knocked the doctor to the pavement with a thud. He lay sprawled on the ground, his body unmoving.

India gasped, pressing both hands to her mouth. She dropped to a crouch. “Oh my goodness, what did you do? You didn’t kill him, did you?” Tentatively, she shook Simon by the shoulder.

Thiago knelt beside Simon’s still body and pressed two fingers to his neck, checking his pulse with a practiced touch.

“He’s not dead. If I wanted to kill him, I would have hit him in the temple.”

As a martial artist, he knew a temple strike was a particularly dangerous move. The skull bone is thinner in that area, with an artery running underneath. A blow to that part of the head could cause a skull fracture, brain bleed, or even death.

India stared at him. “You said that way too casually. What do we do? We can’t leave him here.”

Thiago’s attention was drawn to the curious onlookers, several of whom had taken out their phones and were recording from a safe distance. “I’ll move him inside. Call an ambulance.”

Holding Simon under the arms, he dragged him the short distance to India’s apartment building, and the doorman followed them inside.

“What happened to him?” he asked.

Thiago propped the unconscious doctor against the wall. “His face collided with my fist.”

India hung up the phone. “An ambulance is on the way.”

“When he wakes up, tell him if he touches her again, next time I won’t stop at one punch.” Thiago handed the doorman a C-note and then ushered India out the door.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“I need to move my car.” He nodded in the direction of his vehicle.

“You left a two hundred and fifty thousand dollar car in the middle of the street?” she asked, winding through traffic alongside him.

He shrugged as he opened the passenger side door. “I had something important to take care of,” he said, looking directly into her eyes.

Her lips turned up a little at the corners as she slid onto the car seat. A good sign if he ever needed one.

When he settled behind the wheel, she asked, “What’s this?” She held the paper sack with the two containers inside on her lap.