Page 4 of Love Bites
"Hey there, pretty boy."
I recoiled. Sheesh, how many gay people were there in this non-gay bar and how did they all know that I was batting for their team? My brothers might have said that the glitter in my hair was a dead giveaway, but I maintained that every man had a right to be fabulous, gay or not.
"Sorry, not available," I said without looking at the man by my side.
"Oh, c'mon, don't be like that. I don't see no ring on your finger, sweetheart."
"Fuck off," I grunted. I might have been more polite if he hadn't called me by a stupid pet name, but there was a limit to what I was willing to put up with. Especially tonight.
Fortunately, the stranger got the hint and left.
I sighed and searched the bar for the good-looking scarred silver fox to take my mind off that encounter, but he was nowhere to be seen now.Figures.Might as well head home.
I paid my bill, left a generous tip, and slid off the bar stool to make my way to the exit.
Outside, I zipped up my jacket. The breeze blowing through town had grown even chillier than it was before. My fingers were still fiddling with my zipper when I heard the door to the bar open behind me.
Of course it was Mr. Not-So-Right.
I stepped aside to let him pass, hoping beyond hope that that was all he wanted because I was so not in the mood for this, but... Fortuna was not on my side.
"Leaving so soon, sweetheart?"
"Would you stop fucking calling me that?" I dug my thumbs in my pockets in a defiant stance. The stranger was bigger than me, but probably not as quick. If he made a move for me, I could probably dart away. Maybe duck behind him back into the bar to call a cab or something.
While I calculated every possible course of event in my head, though, there was something I didn't bargain for.
The stocky guy in front of me waslightningon his feet. So much so I didn't even see him move. One moment, he was right there in front of me and the very next, he stood behind me with one arm wrapped around my waist.
And while I was still puzzling over thehows andwhys, his hand cradled my chin.
His fingers looked oddly like claws.
What was worse, theyfeltoddly like claws too.
Lightly, he dragged one of his fingernails over my cheek. They felt sharp, like they would definitely leave a bloody gash in their wake if he pressed any harder. I held my breath.
"Don't move," the sicko grumbled. I stopped myself from nodding because his claws—they weredefinitelyclaws—were still too close to my face. Some guys looked better with scars—like the sexy man at the bar—but I didn't think I could pull it off.
"Let him go." An unknown voice cut through the silence, and I couldn't locate its source before an unseen force whisked away the man who had been holding on to me. In a high arc, he flew away, only to crash onto his back several feet away.
I stared.
What the hell was going on?
"You know this isn't your hunting grounds." That voice again. I turned to identify the speaker—and came face to face with the handsome stranger from the bar. He had one arm outstretched in the direction of the guy with the claws. Whatever had thrown my attacker, he must have been the source of it.
But how?
Curiosity burned at the back of my mind, but this was not the time to ask questions. This was the time to get away.
The man with the claws was getting up. "None of your fucking business," he grunted, face drawn into a deep scowl, and I took several steps back, toward the entrance of the bar. If this was going to be a freak fight I didn't want to be caught in the middle of it.
But my savior pointed a finger at me. "You stay," he commanded without looking at me. It was as if he knew exactly what I was doing even without seeing me. Then again, he had just blasted a human being with the powers of his mind or something, so maybe that wasn't outside the realm of possibilities.
God, Collin,I chided myself.You're starting to sound like your old man.
My eyes darted to the door again, but I didn't move any farther. I didn't dare. Not as long as I didn't know what I was dealing with.
