He stops just short, leering, silver-capped teeth glinting at me. He reeks of booze and smoke.
“You get low pay. But it doesn’t matter. We all make money, we are all happy, yes? I take good care of big girl like you.”
The smaller man laughs and then nods for them to walk on. But the bigger one has an unhinged look about him. It’s like he’s working his way up to something.
This started as a joke for them, I sense. Oh, hey, let’s bother this random girl who wandered down the street. But the bigger man seems drunker, meaner.
I cringe when he takes another step forward.
“You do something for us, I think,” the man says. “It is only fair.”
“Go away,” I snap. “Leave me alone.”
“No, no, no,” he tuts, grin getting wider.
When he moves to put his hands on me, I freak. I’m not even sure what I’m going to do until it’s over.
I’ve slammed my palms into his chest. My voice rings out.
“Get away from me!”
My strike does nothing. He just laughs and surges toward me again. Then, with a sigh, the smaller man moves up behind me.
They’ve got me trapped.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Felix
I turn sharply when I hear her voice. It’s dim, but it comes to me through the alleyway. My whole body is beating in time with my footsteps slamming against the concrete, my heart clashing in the same rhythm.
When I ran out onto the street, I saw her turning the corner, and now she’s led me off the beaten path. I couldn’t make out the words in her scream, but I’m sure it was her.
And I’m sure she needs my help.
As I ran after her, I tried not to think about what happened. That would have to wait until after I caught up to her. One minute everything was fine and then quickly changed, her anger erupting.
It only hit me as I ran down the stairs, trying to catch the elevator. She thinks I’m ashamed of her.
She thinks I’m like all those other bastards in her high school, that I don’t want to be seen with her.
I should’ve read her better. I could’ve told her she was wrong instantly.
“Leave me alone,” she yells, closer now.
I sprint around the corner, finding two men crowding Fiona. They look drunk, criminal sorts with tattoos all over their arms. They look like my dad, the memories I have of him…I remember thinking his arms were colored-in when I was a kid, he had so many tattoos.
I dispel the memory. I rarely think about my father.
“Leave her alone,” I snap.
The men turn, not quite touching her, not yet.
“What?” the bigger man says. “She your pet?”
“She’s my girlfriend,” I snarl, taking a step toward them. “And if you don’t let her go right this second, I will break your fucking legs.”
The smaller man mutters something urgently in Russian. The bigger man grimaces at me.
“We were just having fun, friend. No big deal.”
“Get. The fuck. Away from her.”
I roar the last part, my patience snapping, as I run toward them.
They don’t expect me to charge at them like this, ready to go to war. Maybe they think my clothes mean I’m some pushover, or the color of my hair means I’m too old to fight them.
But they don’t know how badly I need to protect my woman, always, at any cost.
Yelling, they leap away from me, their hands raised.
I step in front of Fiona and square my shoulders. My hands clench into fists, and I stare at both of them hard, pinning them with my gaze, letting them feel the rage burning up and out of me.
“Leave. Now.”
“I’m sorry,” the bigger man gasps, gazing wide-eyed.
“Don’t apologize to me,” I roar.
“Sorry, sorry,” the man murmurs, looking over his shoulder as he walks away.
I stare, the predator part of me roaring that I need to go after them, break their bones, make them pay for the way they treated her.
“It’s okay, Felix,” my woman says softly. “I’m fine. They didn’t touch me.”
“That’s lucky for them.” I watch as they disappear around the corner, then turn to Fiona, offering my hand. “But we better get out of here. Men like that will come back, with friends, with weapons.”
“Okay,” she says, squeezing onto my hand. “Let’s go.”
Her response heartens me and makes me think we can heal the rift from the restaurant. I lead her around the corner, back to the main street, and up to the front of the restaurant. In the light and with all the security, the men would be foolish to strike here.
Fiona giggles strangely. I turn to find her cheeks red, her eyes shiny with tears. She’s staring down at our clasped hands. Our touches are fused, our palms pushed closely together.
“I thought you were embarrassed,” she says. “But look. And back there, you called me your girlfriend.”