Page 32 of Chilled

“You’re just like them all. Holier-than-thou. It’s people like you that give women a bad name. Think you’re all smarter than us dumb, stupid men.” Before Brenna knew what was happening, Victor shoved her against the wall. “You’re not smarter than me, you know.”

He held her arms so tightly she knew she’d have bruises where his fingers were. And she sure as hell didn’t have to put up with this. With a jerk, she kneed him in the groin. When his grip loosened on her arms, she shoved her hands up between them and brought her fists together and down over his head.

Victor crumpled to his knees, moaning.

When Brenna moved to step around him, he grabbed her ankles and yanked her feet out from under her. She crashed to her knees, wincing as they hit the hard tile.

Crawling up her body, Victor straddled her, sneering down into her face. “Bitch.”

Brenna spat in his face. “Get off me or I’ll scream.”

Victor raised his hand to strike her.

Closing her eyes, she struggled to get her hand loose to block the blow, but suddenly Victor’s body lurched off her.

When she opened her eyes, the first thing she noticed was Victor dangling from Nick’s very strong arms. “Want to apologize to the lady?” Nick asked, his voice a snarl.

All Victor could do was blink. The fist clenched around his vocal cords cut off any words he might have said.

Nick shoved him to the wall and held his collar tight against his throat. “Get started with your apology.”

“I’m sorry, Brenna,” Victor muttered.

“That’s better.” Nick turned to Brenna. “Special Agent Jensen, do you want to press charges against this man?”

“No.” Her face burned as she climbed to her feet.

Nick scowled at Victor. “I don’t like a guy who beats up or takes advantage of women. So don’t piss me off.” He jerked his hand loose, and Victor all but crumpled at his feet.

“I could press charges.” Victor shot a look of loathing at Nick and then Brenna.

“I could tell your wife.” Brenna climbed to her feet and fixed Victor with a cold, direct stare. “Everything.”

Victor’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. “This ain’t over.”

“Wanna bet?” Brenna brushed the dust from her sweatpants, like she’d brushed him from her life two years ago.

The blond man straightened his collar and ran a hand through his hair, glancing from Brenna to Nick as if they might jump him before he got away. Then with a grunt, he turned and limped away, a little bent at the middle from Brenna’s knee connection to the groin.

Brenna watched until Victor left the bar, avoiding any further conversation with Nick, hoping he wouldn’t ask what she knew he would.

Once the other man was out of the building, Nick turned to her. “Care to explain?”

“Not really.”

“Then humor me and do it anyway.”

As her father would say, a good defense was always a good offense. Brenna summoned all the rightful or unjustified indignation she could muster and answered with an attack of her own. “Look, why do I have to tell you anything? You practically know my life history, whereas I know nothing about you.”

Before Nick could open his mouth to rebut, Brenna jumped in again. “Not to mention, I’m exhausted and starving.” She stopped him with a look and dared him to say anything else about Victor.

“Fair enough.” He took her elbow and steered her toward the bar. “I had them bag our wings so we can take them back to the room. After we eat, you can tell me all about the man who was getting the better of you.”

“He was not. I was doing fine before you got there.”

Nick smiled. “Do you always argue? Or is it your hunger making you so cranky?”

Brenna grabbed the plastic bag of food from the counter. “I’m not answering any more questions until I’ve had at least six wings and a soda.”

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