It takes me a minute to register his words. Her? Home?
The switch flips and suddenly I know who this skinhead-looking asshole is.
Toni’s ex. He’s talking about Toni.
“Fuck off and leave her alone,” I snarl defiantly, pushing against him. “She doesn’t want to have anything to do with you.”
Asshole responds with a laugh and a sucker punch that shocks all the air from my lungs.
“Yeah, you’d like to think that. You’re not getting any, so nobody else gets to either, is that it? I know all about your little diary. Shit, the only reason I let her keep that job was because you were a bunch of harmless dick lovers and the money was good. But that’s over now. As soon as we have a chat about you staying out of my business, I’ll be giving her all the dick she can handle.”
She took him back? Did he force her? Did he make her set me up with his friend so he could—
I can’t think anymore as the two men start to chat. One fist glances off my cheekbone while another, less forceful punch pounds into my side. It still hurts like hell, but I’m counting my blessings that they’re either almost as bad at fighting as I am, or not really trying to kill me. I dodge as much as I can, swear and kick out, managing to connect with someone’s thigh. I hear an agonized shout as my left eye swells.
“You queer piece of shit,” Billy Ray whines. “You almost kicked me in the balls.”
“I can’t kick what you don’t have, jackass,” I manage. I’m hoping the driver I called will show up soon to scare them off. Until then, I’ll have to distract them.
“Come closer and I’ll give you what you begged me for a few hours ago.” I mime jerking off with my hand, baring my teeth in a grin that’s all bravado.
“I didn’t want that.” I hear his quick denial, followed by a push that slams me back into the wall. “It was an act. You were the one begging for it.”
“I’ll never be that desperate.” There’s blood in my mouth and I grimace at the coppery taste. “A waste of closeted space and a guy who has to hit girls to make his tiny prick pay attention? I wouldn’t touch either one of you if you paid me.”
The tiny prick in question bunches my shirt in his fist, tightening the fabric around my neck. “Shut your dick-sucking hole or we’ll forget we’re just talking and get serious.”
But I can’t. I refuse to go down like this. To let an eighties’ reject and his abusive buddy beat me up outside a bar. It’s too fucking clichéd.
“I’m guessing you’re the dick-sucker,” I challenge Asshole. “You should know your buddy wants it bad. He was practically pushing me out the door, desperate to get some before you got here.” I try to laugh, but cough instead when his fist twists, tightening the fabric like a noose. “You two are perfect for each other.”
I might have gone too far. No filter is not a noble cause of death. I see the rage building in Asshole’s eyes and I’m really wishing Fiona hadn’t parked out back. That big, intimidating Brady was still here. That I could—
“Who the hell are you?” Asshole asks before he releases my shirt, disappears and let’s out a scream that’s loud enough to wake the dead.
I slouch against the wall and rub my sore throat, trying to breathe. Why is he making so much fucking noise?
I hear talking over the rush of blood pumping through my veins and then Toni’s ex is whimpering. “You don’t need to call the cops, man. I’ll go. Please. It hurts...”
Am I a bad person for enjoying that? My knees go liquid, my back scraping down the bricks until my ass hits hard concrete. I hear myself moan, but it’s more from relief than pain. I’m just happy my part in the punching and choking portion of the evening has ended.
“Damn it.” The curse is followed by swiftly retreating footsteps.
I think it’s over. And I might need to throw up.
A pair of large, calloused hands push the hair away from my face, and when I try to jerk away instinctively, they freeze. “They’re gone, JD. It’s Carter. Carter Willis. You’re safe, but I need to make sure it’s okay to move you.”
I let out a shaky breath. “Carter. Good. Safe is good. But I’m not in a hurry to move anything.”
Safe is good.
“Can you open your eyes?”
“Of course I can.” But do I want to? Not at all. “What are you doing here?”
There’s silence for a heartbeat or two, and then, “I was trying to stop you from getting your ass kicked. You want to tell me what you were doing out here alone in the first place?”