“You came back home and tried to run your shithole bar.” Dylan sneered at him.
A shithole, huh? “Seems like a popular enough shithole to me. Don’t hear lots of complaints. Just see a long line of folks eager to get in.”
“You tried to stop fighting, but you were addicted to the bloodlust. Messed up on the inside. So you started working cases even the cops didn’t want to touch. Slumming it with criminals.”
“I don’t slum it with anyone. Thanks for asking.”
“Breaking laws to get what you wanted! You were already over the line, sinking in deep. Deemed too dangerous to be in the field any longer, you came back here. And then you just turned all of those pent-up emotions loose. You were a ticking bomb waiting to explode. Not my fault if you saw a picture of Rose enjoying time with me and you lost it—”
A sharp gasp from behind War.
Dylan’s attempt to provoke him was cute. In a sad, annoying-as-fuck way. Dylan thought he could push War’s buttons. Not this time. “Been doing some digging, have you?”
The SOB looked so pleased with himself. “Gary told me a thing or two about you.”
Just how had Gary come up with that intel so quickly? A point to analyze later. For now… “I did some digging of my own.”
He’d been busy during the night. Too wired to sleep, he’d turned up a surprising amount of information once he started digging—and calling in favors from sources. “Does your boss know about that arrest you got when you were in Atlanta last year?”
Dylan’s lips parted. He blinked. “That was a mistake.”
“That was solicitation of a prostitute.” He made sure his voice was nice and loud. Just like Dylan’s had been. Yeah, I get we have an audience. I can work a crowd, too. “And it wasn’t the first time you tried to pay for services. Same thing happened to you the year before. You just can’t distinguish between undercover cops and the real deal, can you? Busted twice.”
“Lower your voice!”
He raised it. “Two solicitation charges. I would think stuff like that would be big news. Breaking news, if you will. I am sure the station manager would love to know all about—”
“Shut your fucking face!”
Oh, Dylan was getting angry. Not angry enough. Not yet.
“Is that why you were trying to force your attention on Rose?” War asked as he tilted his head to the right. I am taking your ass down. “Because you usually have to pay for a woman to spend time with you? Rose wasn’t interested. She told you to back the hell up, but you wanted—”
Dylan swung at him. War took the blow. A necessary act. And, hell, it was one bullshit blow. Barely even clipped him on the chin.
“War!” Rose’s worried voice. Her heels tapped across the floor.
He’d figured she was the one who’d left production.
She curled her fingers around his shoulder. “War, are you okay?”
“Fucking fantastic.” He wanted to smile at her, but he wasn’t done.
“He’s fine.” Dylan grabbed her arm.
Fatal mistake.
War rolled back his shoulders. His eyes locked on Dylan’s hand. His fingers were wound way too tightly around Rose’s fragile wrist. “Move it.” That wrist was still faintly bruised from the cuffs.
Dylan focused only on her. “Forget him, Rose! We need to talk. That was some serious bullshit that went down last night. I-I didn’t attack you. I didn’t—”
“Get your damn hand off me,” Rose told him.
When he didn’t, she slammed her high heel down on his shoe.
“What the hell? Rose—”
War carefully pulled her out of his grip. “Excuse me.” He eased her behind him.
“War?” Rose’s finger poked at him.
Dylan the dumbass tried to get to her. “I can explain! I can tell you—” He grabbed for her again.
And that was it. War grabbed him. He caught the SOB’s arm and twisted, yanking it up and high behind Dylan’s back. Dylan let out a frantic yell—half pain, half horror. He tried to kick at War.
Stupid, weak kick.
War slammed the fool into the nearest wall.
“Security!” Dylan yelled. “Suh…cure…it…eee!”
Cordell assured him, “Don’t worry. I’m calling the cops.”
Dylan spun around and swung at War with a right hook. A pathetic hook. War dodged the blow and slammed back with his own fist. A direct hit to Dylan’s nose that resulted in the crunch of bones and blood spurting down the man’s face.
Dylan howled and his hands flew up to cover his nose.
War surged toward him. “You stay the fuck away from her.”
“War…enough.” Rose caught his arm and tugged him back.
Absolutely. He would let her tug him back. But if Dylan made any move toward her, if he tried to grab her again, War would stop the jackass.
“I want him arrested!” Dylan was pinching his nose. “When those cops get here, he should be arrested!”
Cordell moved to stand between them. His hands were on his hips.
A petite, elegantly dressed woman with perfectly styled short, black hair also stepped forward.
Simone Davis. The station manager. So she’d caught all the action, too? War opened his mouth—
“Brawling at the station. Unreported arrests. And after the way I’ve recently learned you treated Rose…” Simone shook her head. “You are fired. Clean out your desk.”
Dylan dropped his bloody hand. “You can’t do that!”
“Certainly, I can. It’s my station! Rose is a star right now. She has an inside scoop on the biggest murder investigation in the city—”
Was that why Simone was kicking Dylan to the curb? Because she didn’t want to lose her scoop? And not just because Dylan was a dick?
“And you are delusional if you think I will not do anything and everything to protect my station. You are out.” She nodded to Cordell. “Make sure he packs up his desk.”
Cordell grinned. “With pleasure!”
When Cordell closed in, Dylan threw up a hand. “No! No! I am filing assault charges—against him.” He pointed to War. “You all saw it. You’re witnesses! Whether you want to be or not…you saw it!” His gaze jumped to Rose. “You saw what this psycho did. You’re honest, Rose. You tell the truth. One of the things I love about you.”
Had he just used the l-word with her? War’s hands fisted as a growl vibrated in his throat.
Rose’s hold tightened on his arm. “Do not. I get what you were doing, but stop.” Her voice was low.
“We all saw.” It was Cordell who spoke. “I will happily give a statement about what I witnessed. First you…” He pointed at Dylan. “You hit War in the jaw. War didn’t touch you before that. You swung first. Then you grabbed his girl. He was pulling her out of your way, putting her behind his back to keep her out of the range of your flying fists, and you went at him again. The man defended himself. You can’t fight for shit, by the way, so you’re lucky he didn’t leave you in a bleeding heap on the floor.”
An option that War considered to still be on the table.
“Same thing I saw,” Simone informed them crisply. “You created a spectacle, Dylan. You are done.”