Page 135 of Bad Attitude
She steps into the elevator, out of sight, and I pull him off the wall then slam him into it again for good measure. His head cracks hard, and he winces and goes limp.
“I didn’t like the way you spoke to her,” I growl. “Remember, Raven knows where you live, so I will too in just one minute. You learn some fucking manners for how you speak to a woman, and if she ever mentions you again, you better run before I find you.”
I give him another shake, then release him. He sags against the wall, and I step for the elevator before the doors close.
“Psycho,” he mutters behind me, voice hoarse. I hope his throat fucking hurts.
The elevator takes us up, and I stand in the middle of it, breathing hard. That was an unusual loss of control for me, but I don’t regret it. Not for one fucking minute.
“Are you all right?” she asks. She’s standing at the side, giving me space.
“He practically called you awhore,” I grind out. I still want to go back down there and finish the job. Hell, if she hadn’t restrained me…
“It’s… uh… it happens.” She’s far too accepting for my liking.
“It’s my fault,” I say. “I made that crack about being short of time, and he took it like that.”
“It’s his fault, not yours.”
“Yeah, but I put the thought in his head.”
“And I chose to wear this damn raincoat.”
I force a smile. “And I’m really glad you did.”
“Yeah,” she says sadly. And that pisses me off most of all. That asshole took something that she made special, and dirtied it. “Thank you for standing up for me.”
“I did what needed to be done.” My fists clench, as I’m not sure I did enough.
She bites at her lip, that tell for when she’s aroused, nervous, or both. “You didn’t have to doanything. It doesn’t matter. It’s just part of… life.”
“I’m only sorry I didn’t hit him.” I should’ve hit him. I did bounce his head off the wall, though. Gave him a concussion with a bit of luck.
“I’m sorry I didn’t too,” she says bitterly, with a flash of her usual spirit. “He just caught me unawares.” She sighs. “If I’d been in my leathers, I would’ve smacked him.”
“But not in just a raincoat, huh?” I feel responsible. She wouldn’t be dressed like this if it wasn’t for me.
The elevator arrives. I step out first, but the hallway outside is clear.
She gives a dry laugh. “It would undermine the whole thing if I managed to flash him while punching him in the face, wouldn’t it?”
“I love watching you beat the crap out of men,” I tell her honestly, as we walk down the hallway. “But from now on, I’m going to get there first whenever I can. Which door is his?”
“That one.” She points it out, and I memorize the number. “Just… don’t get into trouble, okay? Not for me.”
There’s an irony there somewhere, but I’m not in the mood to explore it. “Absolutely for you,” I tell her. “No hesitation.”
She stops outside her door, fishing out her keys. “Thank you, Declan. It’s… unusual that someone cares enough to…”
“I care,” I say as she trails off. Except I didn’t, not back at Franco’s when Pablo was harassing her. Although that’s not true either; I did care, but I was playing a role. A different role to the one I get to play now.
And she dealt with Pablo the same way she dealt with the men in the pool bar.
“You don’t need me to protect you,” I tell her as we walk in. “There’s a reason I call you ‘Hellcat.’ Defending you is a privilege, not a necessity, and I’m happy to do it whenever you want to dress up in just a raincoat.”
“Never again,” she says quickly. “I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.”
That’s almost a shame, though I will feel better knowing other men won’t see her like this. “You got the effect you wanted though, right?”
