Page 32 of Logan
Hank freezes, his eyes wide. “I… Mr. Pearce…” His voice stutters, and it would almost be funny if I were not grinding my teeth.
Shaina reappears. “We good?”
“Not really,” Kenzie says without missing a beat. “This customer won’t let me go, and Hank is refusing to step in.”
“Stay out of this, Shay,” I warn, but she is already walking away. I start to breathe again, thinking she is going to leave it alone, when pain explodes along the side of my head. My ear is in her grip, and she is dragging me off the stool.
The crowd parts in front of us as she hauls me toward the back. I keep my balance, but just barely, her fingers locked in a grip like steel. When we reach Allison’s office, she shoves me inside and lets go.
“Are you out of your mind?” My voice fills the space, making Allison flinch where she sits behind the desk.
“You. Will. Stop. This.” Shaina jabs my chest with each word. “It is over. It is toxic. It is bad for business. How dare you grab her at the bar? Do you know what kind of example that sets for every drunk idiot out there?”
I look between her and Allison, whose expression has shifted from confusion to anger.
“Tonight’s the night, brother,” Shaina says, her voice sharp enough to cut. “In or out. Claim her or walk away. I used to look up to you. Now I can’t stand the sight of you.”
The door slams behind her, and I barely have time to process it before the crash of breaking glass rips through the music outside. I am moving before I think, tearing out onto the floor.
Shaina and Kenzie stand in front of the bar, both shaken but upright. Hank is shoving some drunk toward the door.
“What happened?” I demand as I follow them outside.
“Asshole grabbed Mac’s ass as she was walking away from him because she didn’t give him her number,” Hank says, breathing hard.
The guy turns his bleary eyes toward me. “He gets it!” he slurs. “That little tease was asking for it.”
Shaina’s voice from earlier echoes in my skull.
How dare you grab her at the bar? Do you know what example that sets?
She was right. All of this is my fault.
“I’ll take care of him, Hank.”
Hank goes back inside, and I decide this prick is about to learn exactly what happens when you cross the line here.
The night air hits like a slap, cooler than inside but thick with the smell of cigarette smoke and motor oil from the bikes lined up in the lot. The drunk bastard stumbles on the curb, still laughing under his breath, and it’s the sound that flips the switch in my head.
He turns, thinking this is a conversation. “Look, man, I didn’t mean nothing by it. She’s just—”
I step in so close he has to lean back to keep from hitting my chest. “Finish that sentence. I dare you.”
His smirk twitches, but he’s too far gone to read the danger. “She was asking for it. Dressed like—”
That’s as far as he gets before my fist connects with his jaw. The sound is solid, ugly, satisfying in a way that does nothing to cool the burn under my skin. He staggers sideways, but I catch his shirt before he can hit the ground and slam him against the side of the building hard enough that the siding rattles.
“You ever put your hands on a woman in my club again,” I growl, my voice low enough that it’s more threat than words, “and I’ll make sure you don’t have hands left to use.”
He tries to twist free, but I shove him harder, the back of his skull hitting the wall. The fight leaves him quick when he realizes I’m not bluffing.
“This is her place,” I keep going, my face inches from his. “She’s under my protection. That means you don’t touch. You don’t talk. You don’t even fucking look at her again.”
He nods fast, but it’s not enough for me. I grab his arm, twist it behind his back, and march him toward the edge of the lot. He’s cursing now, but it’s weak, the slurred protest of a man who knows he’s beaten.
At the far end, I shove him forward so he stumbles into the gravel. “Get the hell out of here before I decide to finish this.”
He scrambles to his feet and half-runs down the street, looking over his shoulder like he’s not sure I won’t follow. I watch until he disappears into the dark, my fists still clenched so tight my knuckles ache.
