He moved in closer. So close she could smell the bourbon on his breath. “That’s what I’m telling you. You don’t have to leave. You don’t have to go back to your sad little world. You can spend the night in mine. I’ll take care of you.”
He reached out, his hand starting for her chest.
And she was done being polite. She thought she heard a growl come from her left but she ignored it because she had something to deal with. She had to shove down her fear. It was there because he was bigger than she was. It was there because all the times that she’d been physically vulnerable came rushing back in that instant. But she’d learned that fear could freeze her or it could be fuel.
She took a breath and let her body do what it had been trained to do. She pushed out to gain space, using the wall behind her as leverage. When she had space, she brought her knee up as hard as she could. When he moved to cup himself as any wounded man would, she brought her fist up in an uppercut that caught his chin. Pain flared in her hand, but she would bet it was nothing compared to what Brock was feeling.
“I don’t need anyone to take care of me.” She stepped around him, and when she turned there was a massive dark shadow at the end of the hallway.
“You okay?” Michael stood there looking big and strong and safe.
She nodded. “I am. I think Mr. Foster understands that I already have plans for the evening.”
“Bitch,” Brock hissed. “You have no idea who you’re fucking with.”
Michael took a step forward.
Brock ran for the men’s room. Well, ran was giving him too much credit. He kind of stumbled and moaned.
She put a hand on Michael’s chest. “I would like to go now.”
She would learn a lot about the man by what he did next. Everyone talked about how angry he was, but she thought he was mostly sad. If he was as angry as they said, he might take this moment to indulge himself. He could make the excuse that she needed to be avenged or some masculine crap. She believed she’d made her point clear, and she hadn’t even had to go for her pepper spray.
His jaw tightened and she could see the impulse there in his eyes. He wanted to follow Brock into that bathroom and teach him a lesson. His choice would make hers easier.
He reached out a hand. “All right. But we’re telling Zane what happened. Okay?”
Of course. It was Zane’s place of business, and he needed to make sure Callie didn’t come anywhere near that man. “Agreed.”
She followed him out, liking the way he held her hand.
* * * *
That had been a close thing.
Michael still felt the adrenaline thudding through him as Lucy unlocked the door to River Lee’s place on the Rio Grande. He wanted to murder that guy. When he’d walked into Trio and Callie had told him Lucy was getting ready in the back, he’d gone behind the bar to wait for her. He’d been talking to Alexei when he’d noticed the lanky guy make his way to the back. He hadn’t thought much of it until he’d heard Lucy talking.
Then the fucker had tried to touch her, and he’d almost launched himself at the guy. But then Lucy had surprised him.
“So where did you learn self-defense? Did Zane teach you?” He followed her. She’d left a light on inside, giving the cabin a friendly glow. As though everything good and warm was inside that house.
It was the opposite of what he could offer her. His place was nothing but cold, and he wasn’t merely thinking of the rickety cabin he stayed in now. His place in Florida might be neatly kept, but it was cold compared to this cabin.
She shrugged out of her coat and hung it on the row of pegs just inside, then reached out for his. “No. I mean, he offered. All the guys always offer to teach the ladies, but I’ve found I prefer a woman instructor. So Laura teaches a class, and I’m in a group who meets regularly to practice.”
That was odd coming from her. “Seriously? You don’t want a man to teach you? I assure you Nate and Zane know what they’re doing.”
Nate and Zane had once been federal law enforcement. It would be the same as telling him that he didn’t know what he was doing and had nothing to teach her.
“Of course they do. They know exactly how a large, muscular guy takes down another guy,” she replied. “They could teach me all their moves, and they could even teach me the philosophies and mechanics behind a small person taking down a larger opponent. But they don’t know what it means to be a woman.”
She was missing the point. He’d taught plenty of women how to defend themselves, including Jessie. They’d sparred often to keep their skills up, though now he had to wonder if she hadn’t done it because she genuinely liked hitting him. She would often “slip” and end up landing a hard punch and then apologize with a smirk on her face. Yet another red flag he’d overlooked. Maybe he was missing them with Lucy, too. “They know what it means to be human, and I assure you they understand fear. Just because I’m bigger than you doesn’t mean I’ve never been afraid in a fight.”
“Yes, I’m sure you were scared in a fight, but do you worry when you walk down a street at night? When you jog on your own?” Lucy asked the question with a practicality that made him wonder if she was holding back her emotions, if she’d perhaps placed a polite wall between them. “Bliss is mostly safe, but I still feel vulnerable in certain situations. Even smaller men are going to be physically stronger than me. I should know. The man who nearly killed me was pretty much my weight. He had a little height on me, but when I had to fight, I had no shot. So when I wanted to learn, I went to a woman who understood what it meant to be powerless before a man.”
Laura. Laura had been FBI until she’d been stalked and kidnapped by a serial killer. She’d barely made it out, and now she was strong and offering women like Lucy her expertise. And he was arguing with her choices because he didn’t like feeling butt hurt.
Shit. He’d been an asshole. He hadn’t liked the idea of her dismissing men and forgot entirely why she should fear them. She’d been assaulted, and he was questioning her choice of who could make her feel safe. It was selfish, and he was falling into the habit of being selfish because he’d spent two years concentrating on nothing but his own misery.
He handed her his coat and then held out his hand when she turned back to him. “Forgive me. I’m glad you had Laura. I’m glad you have a place where you can feel safe. I was feeling dismissed, and that wasn’t what you were trying to do. I’ll be less of an asshole if you give me a second chance.”
Her smile lit up the room, and she took his hand. “Of course.”
She let him bring her close, allowed him to wrap his arms around her, and the tension he’d felt eased. He could fucking breathe, and it made him wonder how long he’d been so wound up.
She rested her head against his chest, the affection coming off her soothing to his whole damn soul. “Thank you for not beating the crap out of that guy.”
He chuckled. “I thought about it, but you handled it well.” He didn’t like to think about the time she almost hadn’t gotten herself to safety. “I wish I’d been around when Hope’s ex-husband tried to hurt you.” That was wrong. He had been around. “I wish I’d known you better then.”