Page 115 of Shadows of You

The man’s jaw dropped. “You all heard that. He threatened me. I’m going to have you arrested.”

Jonesy began to whistle. “The only thing I heard was you intimidating a woman who asked you to leave her establishment.”

The reporter’s face turned beet red. “I have a right to ask my questions.”

I prowled toward him. The rage swirling inside me was a living, breathing thing. A monster hungry for blood. “You don’t have any rights. And you sure as hell don’t have the right to terrorize an innocent woman with your fucked-up ideas.”

He stumbled back a step, then another. “It’s the truth. I’ve spent more time reporting on this case than you’ll ever know. I’ve spent time interviewing the accused. You should listen to what John has to say. He—”

I shoved the man’s chest hard. “If I wanted to listen to bullshit, I’d follow you to the damned toilet.”

Anger flashed in the reporter’s eyes. “Careful who you ally yourself with. She’ll take you down, too. Spin lies about you and ruin your life. She’s a bitch, just like the rest of them—”

I struck before I had a chance to temper my response, my fist connecting with the man’s nose, the punch ending in a satisfying crunch.

He crumpled to the floor in a heap, curling in on himself and cupping his face. “You broke my goddamned nose!” he howled. But his voice was all wrong.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and Officer Smith appeared. He frantically searched the room. “Oh, shit.”

I glared in his direction. “Where the hell were you? You were supposed to be watching the door.”

Aspen stepped into my space. There wasn’t even a hint of fear in her beautiful green eyes. She pressed a hand to my chest. “It’s not his fault.”

“The hell it’s not. He was supposed to be watching for assholes like this one.”

“I-I had to use the restroom. I’m sorry,” Officer Smith stammered.

“Get some damned Depends next time,” I clipped.

Jonesy choked on a laugh, but the other woman in the café just stared at the man on the floor, clearly in shock.

The reporter struggled to his feet. “Arrest this man,” he ordered Smith, still holding his nose. But the blood had leaked out, running down his face and onto his shirt. “He hit me. That’s assault.”

Aspen whirled on him. “You might need an MRI because your memory is obviously faulty. You tripped and hit your face on the floor.”

The man gaped at Aspen, then his expression went hard. “You lying little—”

I took one menacing step toward him, and he stumbled backward. He tripped over a chair and landed on his ass again.

Jonesy let out a hoot of amusement.

Officer Smith crossed to the man, helping him up. “I’m going to have to escort you out.”

The reporter jerked his arm out of Smith’s grasp and stomped toward the door. “You can’t hide the truth for much longer, Tara. I’m not the only one who sees.”

Aspen began to tremble, and I wanted to break the asshole’s face all over again.

Officer Smith followed him out with another muttered apology. I strode toward Aspen, framing her face in my hands. “Look at me.”

Her eyes slowly met mine, but they were unfocused.

“He touch you?”

“No,” she whispered.

“You okay?” I knew she wasn’t, but I had to ask anyway.

Aspen’s head bobbed up and down in my hands. “He was the worst of them.”

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