Ashley doesn’t smoke, but she may have gone outside for some fresh air, possibly to look for me when she couldn’t see me at the bar. Yes, that must be it. Now I have a plan, I can feel my panic receding. Even if she’s not out there, I could use the space and to feel the breeze against my hot skin.
Tottering over, I smile at the bouncer and receive a stamp on the back of my hand which will allow me re-entry to the club once I’m done. Stepping over the threshold, a huge breath of relief escapes me as soon as the cool night air surrounds me, swallowing me in a calming bubble as the music from the club is dulled by the door.
Thank the pastry gods.
Glancing around, it doesn’t take me long to see that Ashley isn’t out here, but I’m not too worried. I’ll stay put here for a bit and I’m sure she’ll track me down eventually. Walking over to an empty space, I lean up against the wall and sigh in relief oncemore. Closing my eyes, I drop my head forward, rubbing at my temples with my fingers, massaging the tension away.
“Bad night?”
My eyes shoot open at the deep voice and for a heart-pounding second I think that the bad boy has found me. Nope. A tall, lanky man in his mid-thirties stands close to me, smiling sympathetically, and my heart sinks. Wait, do I actuallywanthim to track me down?
I don’t have time to think about that now, not when the guy in front of me is waiting for a response.
“Oh, it’s just been a long day,” I reply with a tight smile.
“Sorry to hear that.” His word are at odds with the slow smile that stretches his lips, not looking at all apologetic. “My name is Chris. Why don’t I buy you a drink?”
Something about him makes me uneasy, even though he’s done nothing to indicate he’s anything but a friendly guy looking out for a woman he thinks is in distress. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, I smile back and shake my head slightly. “That’s very kind, but I’m fine.”
Annoyance flashes in his eyes, his smile tightening. “Come on, just one drink.”
Instantly, alarm bells are going off in my mind. This guy wants a lot more from me than one drink, and if he’s offended by my gentle rejection then he’s definitely not the type of person I want to be around. Still, I’m British and awkward, so instead of telling him where to go, I smile politely and take a step away.
“I need to go and find my friend; she’ll be looking for me.”
Face twisting, the stranger drops his mask and allows his frustration free range. “You don’t need to make up a story. What is it with women? You turn down a nice guy offering you a drink, but you’ll jump to impress the fuckboys.” He looks down at me like I’ve just told him I eat babies for fun, his disgust written clear across his face. “Fine, I can be an asshole too.” He reachesout and grabs my arm, fingers wrapping tightly enough to cause a mark. Pulling, he jerks me forward towards him. “You’re coming for a drink with me and we’re going to be civil.”
I stumble, my stupid heels making me totter about and I have to reach out and brace myself against the wall. There is no way in the flaming pits of hell that I’m going to use him to steady myself and would rather faceplant the wall than have to have any more physical contact with him.
What the hell is wrong with this guy, thinking that the only way I would spend time with him is by force? This sort of behaviour can’t possibly work on women; his sense of entitlement is sickening. Clearly, he seems to believe that women should be flocking to him, and because I rejected him, he’s showing his true colours. I may be broken-hearted, but I’m also strong enough to know an asshole when I see one.
“Get off me.” Frankly, I’m impressed with how even my voice is. There’s not a hint of a wobble or fear to be heard, just a simple order. Should be easy enough for him to understand.
Snorting, he shakes his head, eyes raking over me. “No, I know women like you.” Tongue flicking out, he licks his lower lip, a look of anticipation gleaming in his eyes. “You want to be treated like a little bitch, so that’s exactly what I’ll do.”
Wow. I am disgusted to my core.
“How fucking dare you?” I roughly jerk my arm down, twisting in the way I was taught in self-defence class, managing to pull from his grip. “You have no idea who I am, or what I want. Where do you get off treating people this way?” It’s my turn to look him up and down, making sure my revulsion is clear enough for him to understand. “I owe you nothing. If I don’t want to have a drink with you, then I have the right to say no. Like it or not, you have to accept it.”
Taking an ominous step forward, his arm flashes out and grabs me before I have a chance to do anything about it. Hisface is in mine, the smell of stale whiskey washing over me and making me want to gag. Up close, he’s so much bigger than me, blocking out the light as he backs me up against the wall.
“I don’t want to hear it, bitch.”
My heart is pounding in my chest and I’m not too proud to admit that I’m afraid. I won’t let that consume me, though. The worst thing I can do in a situation like this is freeze. My old instructor’s voice sounds in the back of my mind, drilling me on what to do. There isn’t much space behind me, but his wide stance is perfect for what I have in mind. Chris is about to get his walnuts crushed.
“If you don’t let go of her in the next five seconds, I’m going to rip your arm off and feed it to you.”
The deep, low voice rolls over me, causing the hairs on my arm to stand on end. Although I know I’ve never heard this person before, it feels like a familiar caress. There’s a definite note of promise behind the words, only adding to the threat. This man is threatening to disembody another person, I shouldn’t feel such relief. Not to mention I can’t even see my potential rescuer. Even so, I’m placing my bets that I would prefer to be standing with him right now over asshole Chris who won’t let go of me.
Clearly Chris senses the same threat and lets go of me to turn to face the stranger. Only, it’s not a stranger, but the guy from the bar. He’s managed to track me down, and instead of finding that disturbing like I should, I’m relieved to see him.
Although he’s shorter, the newcomer has an aura about him that makes him feel so much larger, and that’s without taking into account his muscles that look as though they’re about to burst through his T-shirt. His crystal-blue eyes hover over me, scanning for injuries. I shake out my stinging wrist, a slight red mark encircling it, but really it’s nothing. The biggest sensation Ihave is the need to wash my arm and remove any trace of where Chris, the entitled asshat, touched me.
This doesn’t seem to matter though, and spotting my motions, anger flashes in his eyes before turning his attention back to Chris.
Facing a sudden adversary, Chris rolls his shoulders back, trying to appear bigger, but he can’t possibly out-macho my muscly hero. Sneering, he bares his teeth, hands balling into fists at his sides.
Oh holy cheese-balls, this is going to turn into a fight. I knew coming out tonight was a bad idea. Why did I let Ashley guilt me into it? Shuffling my weight from foot to foot, I look between the men. Do I say something?