“Hi.” I give him a small smile. “What’ll it be?” I ask him, and confusion clouds his face until I tilt my chin toward the bartender waiting to take his order.
His eyes roam over my body before he shakes his head. He orders a Jack and Coke, and I notice his gaze falling back down my body like a predator sizing up its prey.
I order my drinks next and wait for the bartender. Glancing over my shoulder, I see Julian’s fists connecting with his opponent’s face over and over again.
I’m not missing anything new. Although the way his muscles dip and bulge ... that isverynew and not at all like the boy I knew ten years ago. I subconsciously bite down on my lower lip.
“Feeling brave enough to step into the ring yourself?” the guy asks, his voice dripping with innuendo. “I bet you’d put on quite a show.”
“Thanks, but I think I’ll leave the fighting to the professionals,” I shoot back. My tone turns icy as I try to create some distance between us. But if he notices, he doesn’t show it.
Instead his hand suddenly grips my arm tightly, and he pulls me closer.
“Come on, don’t be like that,” he murmurs, his breath hot on my neck as his other hand slides around my waist.
Panic rises within me, along with a fierce surge of anger.
How dare he touch me like this?
“Get your hands off me,” I snarl before shoving him away with all my strength. The force of my push catches him off-guard, and he stumbles.
“You fucking bitch,” he hisses, his breath putrid as it engulfs me.
In a second his hand connects with my face in a vicious slap that sends me stumbling backward.
The crowd cheers with madness as Julian deals a blow to his opponent’s temple. Everyone is too high on adrenaline and other substances to notice my predicament.
Before I can regain my senses, the man grabs onto my arm with a bruising grip and pulls me away from the crowded bar. His fingers dig into my skin, leaving red marks in their wake as he leads me into a corner, hiding us from prying eyes.
The shadows seem to close in around us as I try to pull away, but his grip only tightens, trapping me in this secluded space alone with him.
“Let go of me!” I shout. But my voice gets lost in the cacophony of the crowd as I struggle to break free.
He’s too strong, and he knows it, as he presses me against the wall. His hot, alcohol-laced breath traces my neck as he whispers, “With this little dress, you are just asking for it, aren’t you, baby?”
I grunt in frustration, pushing with all my strength at his chest. But he doesn’t budge.
“Such a pretty little thing.” He sneers, hisfingers digging into my flesh as he starts to tug at the hem of my dress. “Look at you squirming for it. You are making my dick so fucking hard.”
“Stop it!” My insides tighten as his intention becomes horrifyingly clear.
“Quiet. I’ll make it quick. You’ll beg me for more afterward.”
His clammy hand covers my breast and he squeezes in delight. Air tickles my inner thighs, and I know he’s seconds away from touching my center. The sound of his belt unbuckling is enough to wake me from the fear.
I remember the knife I brought with me, concealed in my combat boot.
Searching for it, my fingers tremble as I lift my leg and feel the hilt in my palm. In one swift movement I free it, pointing it at his chest—but something flashes beside us, catching my eye, and the guy gets yanked away from me.
“Touch her again and I’ll rip your fucking throat out.”
I hear Julian’s deep growl rip through the air before he stands over the man. Anger seeps out of his pores. He can barely contain himself. His light eyes are now a pool of intense darkness, matching his body, which is covered in blood from the fight that ended seconds ago.
The metallic scent of iron fills the air, mixing with the tang of sweat and adrenaline, as Julian’s muscles tense and ripple beneath his stained skin.
Then the sickening crunch of bone echoes through the air as Julian’s fist connects with the man’s face, sending him crumpling to the floor, unconscious.
Just one punch. And the bastard is now lying on the ground. Where he belongs.